bankruptcy or sell the business. That's dated about two years ago.
'Three months later Waigel wrote back to tell Farber that he had found a buyer. Lo and behold, that turns out to be our old friend Tremont Capital. There is a whole sheaf of correspondence documenting the deal. Tremont put in forty million dollars of capital in return for 90 per cent of the company. Howard Farber remained CEO but someone called Jack Salmon was appointed liaison officer. His job was to liaise with the majority shareholder, Tremont Capital.'
'Very interesting.'
'Yes. And you know what else is interesting?'
'Tell me.'
'Bloomfield Weiss only charged a twenty-five-thousand-dollar advisory fee. I can't imagine Bloomfield Weiss doing anything like this for less than 1 per cent, which in this case would be four hundred thousand.'
'I suppose Waigel didn't want to charge himself too much,' I said. 'Talk about conflict of interest. That's great! Well done. Did you discover anything else?'
'I didn't. But the police did. They finally found Shoffman's body in a wood in Montclair, New Jersey.'
'Do they know how he was killed, or who did it?' I asked.
'No. It was hard enough to identify him after all this time. They are still working on it, but they are not very optimistic.'
'Damn. I was hoping there would be something to tie his death in with all of this.'
'There is.'
'What?'
'Dick Waigel lives in Montclair.'
'Really?' I said. I wasn't exactly surprised. 'OK, Tommy. Thanks very much for all you have done. Can you send copies of those documents to my office in London?'
'Sure,' said Tommy. 'It will be a pleasure. Let me know what you come up with.'
'I will. Thanks again,' I said and rang off.
Everything was falling into place. I had almost all the information I needed to piece together what was going on. I pulled out some sheets of paper, and spent the next two hours drawing as complete a picture as I could of Tremont Capital, the financing of the Tahiti, and the various people involved. After I had finished, there was still one key question left unresolved. Why had Debbie died?
That she had been murdered, I was sure. It seemed to me highly likely that the reason was something to do with Tremont Capital. Waigel seemed the most likely candidate: the discovery of Shoffman's body near Waigel's house in Montclair suggested he was certainly capable of it.
But Waigel's diary showed he was in New York that night. And it was Joe, not Waigel, whom I had seen just before she was killed. So what was Joe's connection with Waigel? There was none that I knew of, but perhaps Cash had put Joe up to it. I had no doubts about Cash's involvement in the whole thing. After all, it was he who had sold the Tremont Capital bonds to Hamilton in the first place.
As for motive, it looked to me as though Cash had somehow found out that Debbie had discovered the Tremont Capital fraud, and was going to see Mr De Jong about it. She had to be silenced.
And yet… I wasn't convinced. Joe had been adamant that he had not killed Debbie, and I believed him. It didn't quite make sense yet.
Still, I had got a long way. I called Hamilton. His voice travelled crisply down the phone lines. 'What have you got for me, laddie?'
'I think I have worked it all out, or almost all of it,' I said, trying not to sound too proud of myself.
'Tell me,' said Hamilton, unable to keep the eagerness out of his voice.
'Well, I am pretty sure that Waigel and Cash are behind the whole thing. Waigel created the Tremont Capital structure, and Cash sold it to you.'
'Sounds plausible,' said Hamilton. 'We know that Tremont Capital raised the money under a false guarantee, but have you found out where the money went?'
'I think so.'
'Well, don't play games, tell me.'
'Uncle Sam's Money Machine was a savings and loan, Phoenix Prosperity Savings and Loan to be precise. Tremont Capital bought 90 per cent of the company with the money raised from the private placement. They are using Phoenix Prosperity to make a series of high risk investments funded with government guaranteed deposits. One of them is Irwin Piper's Tahiti Hotel.'
'Is he involved in Tremont?'
'I don't know,' I said. 'I am not sure who owns Tremont Capital itself. I expect Cash and Waigel are shareholders, perhaps Piper is too.'
There was silence on the end of the phone. I could almost hear Hamilton thinking it all through. 'Well, it all adds up,' he said. 'You've done an excellent job! Excellent. Now all we have to do is figure out a way to get our money back.'
'Don't we go to the police now?' I asked.
'Not when we are so close to locating the money. As soon as we have got it all back, then you can go to the police and tell them everything, but not until then, do you hear?'
I heard. And in truth I was enjoying this. I was a lot more confident that Hamilton and I would work out a way to get our twenty million back.
'I'll call Rudy Geer. I want to see how he is getting on in Curacao. With this information, we might be able to crack Tremont Capital in the Netherlands Antilles. I had better get out there again soon.'
'There is one thing I don't understand.'
'What's that?'
I told Hamilton about the questions I still had about Debbie's death.
'Yes, I see what you mean,' said Hamilton, his voice thoughtful. 'There is still a lot we need to find out. But maybe if we find the money, it will lead us to Debbie's killer.'
'OK,' I said, 'what's next?'
Hamilton's response was clear. 'I get hold of Rudy Geer. I go to Curacao again. And I do some thinking.'
'What about me?' I said.
'Don't worry, laddie, you've done enough. Put down the main points of what you have just told me on a fax, and send it over. Then just enjoy yourself, and I'll see you in the office on Monday.'
As I put the phone down, I reflected that Hamilton must be pleased with me if he told me to enjoy myself. And frankly, I was pretty pleased with myself. There was no doubt that I had impressed him.
I scribbled my findings on a couple of sheets of paper, and went down to the hotel 'business centre' to send the fax. Not surprisingly, the Tahiti was kitted out with all sorts of sophisticated computers, photocopiers and fax machines, as well as two secretaries who were available to type copy for the hotel's customers at any time of day or night. I declined their services, and insisted on sending the fax through to Hamilton myself.
It only took a couple of minutes. I strolled back to the bank of elevators, wending my way through the grass- skirted beauties who worked for the hotel, and the overweight punters who were its customers. Cathy was waiting in one of the lifts.
'Hallo,' I said, as I jumped in just before the doors closed. 'Did you get my message last night? Do you fancy exploring the town later on?'
She bit her lip and looked down at the floor of the lift. 'No, I think I should like an early night.'
'Oh, OK. Do you want to meet up for supper?'
'No, I'd better not. I promised I would eat with Cash and Dick. This is my floor.' With barely a glance at me, she stepped out of the lift.
I frowned. What was all that about? And since when was Cathy so eager to have dinner with 'the poisonous frog'? Odd. I walked down the landing to my room feeling distinctly uncomfortable.
The more I thought about it, the surer I was that her aloofness was deliberate. She had decided to avoid me, to put me off. There was no other explanation, I couldn't hide from that conclusion.
But why?
I lay on my back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. I had no idea why. I couldn't think of anything I had said that might have put her off me. I lay there puzzled and afraid. It would hurt if I lost Cathy. It would hurt a lot.
