CHAPTER 21
Despite my fatigue, I slept fitfully. When the black outside my window turned to grey, I crawled out of bed, pulled on my running things, and set off round the park. I did two circuits. On little sleep it was hard work, but it did calm me down. I got home, had a bath, some toast and some coffee, and felt a bit better. I rang Cathy at Bloomfield Weiss. She had just got in to work. I asked her and Cash to come round as soon as they could. I said it was urgent.
They arrived about ten. I told them about Powell's search of my flat, and about my visit to Rob's. I also ran through all I had been thinking the previous day.
I summed up. 'So, we don't know who killed Debbie. We can be sure that Waigel was involved, but he wasn't in the country when she was killed. I suspect Rob might have something to do with it, and I also think that the Tremont Capital fraud is important. But for the life of me I can't put it all together. In the meantime, I am in serious trouble. All it needs is for Powell to come up with one more piece of evidence, which it seems plenty of people would be happy to manufacture, and I will be arrested. Unless I can work out who killed Debbie, I will be facing a murder charge. Have either of you got any ideas, because I sure as hell haven't?'
Cash exhaled. 'Jeez. This is all a bit complex for me. I don't know.'
Cathy didn't say anything. She was thinking. I kept quiet, hopeful she would come up with something.
Finally she said, 'OK, try this. What do we know about Debbie's murderer?'
'Well, he must have been in London when Debbie was killed,' I said.
'Right. And he may well have been the man pulling the strings at Phoenix Prosperity.'
I nodded. 'That's true. Jack Salmon was certainly talking to somebody. And that somebody knows the markets.' I thought some more. That somebody had approved Jack Salmon's proposal to buy Fairway bonds.
I had told Hamilton I thought Fairway was a good investment.
My thoughts were interrupted by Cathy. 'Waigel was lucky that no one checked out the Tremont Capital guarantee. He was running a risk there.'
'It was a private placement,' I said. 'The documents didn't have to be filed anywhere, and there was a restricted list of customers.'
'Very restricted,' said Cathy. 'Two, in fact. De Jong, and Harzweiger Bank.'
'You said Waigel suggested Harzweiger, and you came up with De Jong yourself?' I asked Cash.
'That's right,' he said. 'After Hamilton had indicated his interest in high-yielding triple-As.'
'Well, we can be pretty sure that Dietweiler was working with Waigel; he probably stuffed the Tremont bonds in client accounts, hoping no one would notice,' I said.
'Which leaves De Jong,' said Cathy.
'Mm. It is very odd Hamilton didn't check the guarantee, or at least get Debbie to check it,' I said. 'A rare mistake.'
The inevitable conclusion was there, staring us all in the face.
Hamilton.
It couldn't be true. Hamilton might have sacked me, but he was still important to me. I admired the man; he was the one person who was straightforward in this whole filthy mess. It just didn't make sense. I wasn't prepared to believe it.
But, as soon as I accepted Hamilton as a possibility, things began to slip into place. In partnership with his old business school buddy Waigel, Hamilton had set the whole scheme up. He had bought the Tremont Capital private placement from Cash, knowing exactly what it was. He was responsible for Tremont's investment in Phoenix Prosperity, and for directing Jack Salmon's trading while he was there.
But worst of all, he had killed Debbie.
He had seen the appointment with Mr De Jong in Debbie's diary. He had seen the marked-up Tremont prospectus on her desk. He knew she was going to talk to De Jong about the fake guarantee and he had to stop her.
So he killed her.
I felt numb. In shock. My body was physically unable to accept that conclusion.
'Paul? What's wrong?' Cathy reached over to touch my hand.
Stammering, I told them what I was thinking, the words coming out with difficulty.
They both just looked at me, too stunned to say anything.
I pulled my hand away from Cathy, and walked over to the window of my little sitting room. I looked over the little street bathed in morning sunlight.
The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. I felt foolish and betrayed. I wanted revenge, for myself and for Debbie.
'I don't believe it,' said Cash. 'Hamilton is as prim and proper as they come. He isn't my idea of a master criminal. He's too…' Cash searched for the word and then found it, 'boring.'
'Oh, I do,' said Cathy. 'I never liked him. He's not a human being, he's a machine. But I wonder why he did it?'
I had an answer. I knew how Hamilton's mind worked. 'Hamilton thinks life is all about playing the markets, and winning. He is obsessed by making money. It's not the money itself he likes, it's the act of making it. And he is a risk-taker. I think he got bored with straightforward trading, he wanted something a bit more exciting. This was the perfect crime. He would steal tens of millions without ever being discovered. I bet he got a great kick out of it,' I muttered bitterly.
'Why steal it, when the suckers give it away every day of the week,' Cash said, chuckling.
It was true, as long as there was one born every minute, Cash would never be short of money.
'So what about you?' Cathy asked. 'How come he let you nose around for so long?'
'I suppose he didn't have much choice,' I said. 'Once I was suspicious, he knew I would ask questions. He was probably better off knowing what I was doing and directing me, rather than letting me go off on my own. He did persuade me not to tell anyone what I found out, under the pretext of avoiding alerting the fraudsters before we had got the money back. I must admit I thought he would figure everything out. I suppose all that business about lawyers in the Netherlands Antilles was made up. Perhaps he didn't even go there.'
'But why didn't he kill you like he killed Debbie?'
I paused. 'I don't know why he didn't kill me. I suppose two dead employees in one month might have looked a little careless.' Perhaps he was too fond of me, I thought to myself. The pride of being Hamilton's star protege was difficult to shake. I felt a fresh wave of disgust for him wash over me. To think I ever admired a man like that!
He had tried to stop me though, and nearly succeeded. Suddenly the Gypsum investigation slotted into place. 'Berryman was right, Hamilton never did a deal with the TSA,' I said.
Cathy looked at me, puzzled.
'He used the investigation into my Gypsum share-dealing as an excuse to fire me. Once I had resigned, it was easy for Hamilton to spread a rumour around that I had been caught insider trading, which made me unemployable in the bond markets. Then, just to make sure, he got Rob to set me up as a murder suspect, and broke into my flat to plant one of Debbie's earrings, which had fallen off when he pushed her into the river.'
'But why did Rob help him?'
I had no answer to that one. Perhaps he just didn't like me.
'So what do we do now?' asked Cash.
'Go to the police?' said Cathy.
I shook my head. 'We can't. We don't have any proof. As soon as Hamilton realises the police are investigating him, De Jong will never see its money again. And remember, I am still the man Powell wants behind bars. He won't be thrown off the track that easily.'
Cathy nodded, worried. 'You are still on the hook for that. Powell won't be impressed when you try to tell him that your old boss, who fired you, is really Debbie's murderer.'
'Besides,' I said, 'I want to nail the bastard myself.'
'So, what do we do?'
'We get De Jong's money back.'
The other two looked at me blankly.
'We get De Jong's money back,' I repeated. 'And in the process we expose Hamilton's involvement in the whole
