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'Fifty million,' Cash said.

'How on earth did you manage that?' she asked.

'Partly price. He's going to have to pay 2 per cent more than the average yield for a new junk issue. But the key is the security. If Mills defaults, or tries any funny stuff, Amalgamated Veterans will have the right to take possession of the copyright of both Twilight in Tangier and Moonlight in Marrakesh and prevent any further distribution of the films. That ought to keep him straight.'

'Oh, I see. And if his heart gives out, it should keep his widow in line as well,' I said.

Cash laughed. 'Having seen Lola Mills in Twilight in Tangier, I am surprised his heart didn't give out long ago. That woman sure is some gymnast.'

I couldn't stop myself laughing with Cash. I had to marvel at his amazing ability to get two such totally different people to do business together.

CHAPTER 15

I dutifully attended breakfast and the morning's presentations. I made sure I was at the Fairway talk. Jack Salmon was there as promised. I sat next to him.

Of all the enthusiastic managements I saw at the conference, Fairway's was the most enthusiastic. There was nothing they didn't know about golf or golf carts. Demand for golf was growing in the US. More people wanting to play could be accommodated in two ways, both of them good for Fairway. One was to build more golf courses, which would need new fleets of golf carts; the other was to make the use of golf carts compulsory on existing courses, in order to get more people round a course in a single day.

Gerry King, Fairway's chief executive officer, knew everyone in the industry. He was unscrupulous in the way he used his contacts. He used top players to sponsor his carts and to suggest minor alterations to make better vehicles. He knew the top course-designers in the country, who could recommend Fairway machines on new courses. And he went to great lengths to explain his close ties with distributors.

The company was winning market share from its competitors and its cash flow had grown 25 per cent for each of the last two years. It had borrowed heavily to finance its growth, and I realised I would have to do some careful analysis when I got back to London to make sure it could support this debt. Provided the results of that were positive, it looked to me as though Fairway would make a good investment.

After the presentation, Jack said, 'Wow! How do you like that company? I can't wait to get my hands on some of those bonds. What do you think, Paul?'

'Hmm, it does seem rather good,' I said.

Jack laughed. 'Rather good,' he said, mimicking an English accent, 'it's goddamn dynamite!'

'I'll see you at your office tomorrow,' I said, and left him.

Outside the room there was a woman taking names for the trip to Las Vegas the next afternoon. There were to be visits to three casinos. The high point was to be the newly opened Tahiti. I went up to her table, and added my name to the list. I still wasn't sure why Debbie had been killed. It could have something to do with Tremont Capital. Or it might have something to do with Piper. I was looking forward to seeing him. There was a lot more I wanted to find out about Irwin Piper.

The lunchtime speaker was a famous American chat-show host whom I had never heard of. I decided to skip lunch and find a nice spot by a pool to have a nap.

In addition to the main swimming-pool, there were a number of small pools dotted round the hotel grounds. There was one I had noticed earlier that was out of the way, on the edge of the hotel premises. It was in the middle of a Spanish-style courtyard, and looked like an excellent place to while away an hour or two.

There was no one by the pool, and I found a spot in the sun, lay down and closed my eyes.

I must have drifted off, because I was awakened by the gentle splash of someone diving into the pool. I opened my eyes and saw the long, lithe form of Cathy gracefully stroking through the water. She was an excellent swimmer, scarcely causing a ripple as she glided up and down the pool.

After a few minutes she hauled herself out of the pool and dried herself on the other side of the courtyard from me. I wasn't sure whether she had recognised me or not, since I was lying facedown on a sunbed. Out of one eye half closed in the sunlight, I watched her as she slowly rubbed her towel over first one long, slim golden brown leg, and then the other. As she stood up to dry her shoulders, I admired the gentle curve of her back, teasingly revealed by her swimming costume.

She lay down and closed her eyes. After five minutes or so, someone else entered the little courtyard. I recognised the balding head of Dick Waigel. A spare tyre of fat rolled over the elastic of his Bermuda shorts. I don't think he even noticed me, as his attention was immediately caught by the prone Cathy. He waddled over to her, squatted down beside her, and began to talk. I couldn't hear what was said, but I could see Cathy sit up and talk politely back.

Then I saw Waigel let his hand drop almost casually on to Cathy's thigh. She brushed it off immediately, but he replaced it more firmly, and began to move his other arm over her shoulders.

Without waiting to see Cathy's reaction, I leapt to my feet and ran round to the other side of the pool. I grabbed hold of one of Waigel's arms, and pulled him to his feet. Waigel was small, surprised and off balance. I made the most of my advantage by landing one clean blow straight on his chin. He went flying backwards into the swimming-pool.

He was momentarily unconscious, but as his head submerged under water he spluttered and came to. He gasped for breath and waded through the water to the opposite side of the pool from where I was standing. He hauled himself out, water and fat slopping on to the paving-stones. 'What the fuck did you do that for?' he screamed at me, his wet face red with anger. 'I was just talking to the bitch. You can't hit me like that and get away with it. You had better watch your ass! I'll trample all over you, Murray!'

He picked up his towel and stalked out of the courtyard, still muttering insults and threats. I just watched him go.

Cathy was sitting hunched up on the sunbed, her chin resting on her knees.

'Do you think Waigel is finally going to get the message that every time he makes a pass at you he is going to get hurt?' I said.

'I hope so,' she said, staring at a point on the ground just in front of her feet.

I sat next to her on the sunbed. Neither of us said anything. I could feel the anger seething within her slowly subside.

'I hate this company, and I hate the people who work for it,' Cathy muttered.

I didn't reply. I felt sorry for her, having to work for scum like Waigel, to be at his beck and call, to put up with his lechery. No wonder she hated it. I didn't know why she took it. She seemed a strong person. Why didn't she just tell them to shove it, and walk out? She just didn't like to give up, I supposed.

We sat together for several minutes, both wrapped in our own thoughts. Finally, Cathy uncurled herself and stood up. She gave me a quick, nervous smile. 'Thank you,' she said in a small voice. Biting her lip, she grabbed her clothes and ran out of the courtyard.

Presentations began again at two o'clock. I watched the chief executive of a cable-TV company explain his plan to operate the biggest and best network in the country, but none of it sank in. Nor did the presentations of the two companies that succeeded him. My mind was preoccupied with Cathy. In those few minutes by the pool, I had felt so close to her. Her vulnerability still tugged at me. The aggressive corporate woman I had first seen in De Jong's offices in London had become a brave but persecuted girl who needed a protector.

The programme for that evening was drinks and a barbecue by the main swimming-pool. A breeze blew down from the Camelback, cooling the air and ruffling the surface of the pool. The reflections of the glowing charcoal, the white tablecloths and the milling crowd of blazers and summer dresses, danced across the water as I approached. The sound of relaxed laughter carried across the pool towards me, mingling with the chuckling of the crickets. All this was under a starlit sky that looked like the backdrop to a Hollywood musical.