Ian Hamilton - The disciple of Las Vegas

“His woman.”

“Lily Simmons?”

Douglas peered at her through hooded eyes. “You’ve done your homework.”

“How does she come into this?”

“Her father put up nearly all the money for The River.”

“And left you and Ashton to manage it?”

“No — are you kidding? Jeremy was running off to London every month to report in.”

“And this Lily, she is his what — girlfriend, fiancee, wife?”

“They’re engaged, he says.”

“But no wedding plans?”

Douglas shrugged. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Did Ashton meet with her father during any of those trips?”

“How would I know?”

“How about this Lily Simmons — did you ever meet her?”

“Once, in New York.”

“What was she like?”

“Tall, skinny, no tits, no ass, red hair.”

“Doesn’t sound like the kind of girl who would attract a man like Ashton. Maybe he has a thing for red hair.”

“Yeah, as long as it comes with money attached to it.”

“Okay, let’s get back to the money. Tell me, how do things get signed around here? I mean, how do you move money in and out?”

He twisted his neck and rolled his shoulders as if trying to gather strength. “We have a bank account in Vegas that we use for day-to-day operations. Either of us can sign for it. To get money from Cyprus, Ashton and I sign a wire or transfer request here and then he flies over to London and gets her to sign.”

“Not very efficient.”

“It’s the way they wanted it, and it was their money. Besides, we don’t do it very often, maybe once a quarter.”

“How much did they invest?”

“Forty million.”

“That’s a lot of money. You said earlier you were in the hole. For exactly how much?”

“Up until about six months ago the losses came to more than thirty million.”

“That’s hard to believe.”

“Believe it.”

“So the money you stole, it all went to Cyprus?”

“I said that already.”

“And it covered the losses and then some?”

“Yeah.”

“How much is in the account today?”

“Just over seventy million.”

“The rest of what they put in, plus what you stole?”

“Yeah, more or less.”

“And no one thought to take money out? Your investors didn’t want to claw back their funds?”

“We were waiting until the fiscal year-end.”

“Lucky for me,” Ava said. “Tell me, does Lily Simmons know how you came by your recent windfall?”

Douglas shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t know what Ashton said to her.”

Ava stood. “Andy, get Mr. Douglas a glass of water and then bring in an extra chair from the kitchen.” She turned to Carlo. “Bring in the little one. I need to talk to him.”

Ava heard Jeremy Ashton before she saw him, a stream of “fucking Chinese” preceding his return to the house. Carlo was walking behind him, the gun pressed into his back. It was true that Carlo didn’t speak English and understood very little of it, but “fucking Chinese” was something he did comprehend. Ava could tell that he was barely controlling himself.

When Ashton emerged from the kitchen, his eyes locked on Ava and he yelled, “You fucking bitch,” and spat in her direction. The spit had hardly left his mouth before Carlo’s arm shot out, smashing Ashton across the forehead with the barrel of the gun. He reeled back, his hand reaching for his head as blood trickled between his eyebrows and down both sides of his nose. He started to say something and then looked at Douglas for the first time.

Ashton gasped. “What have you done to him?” he cried. Whatever bravado he had left was ebbing away at the sight of his partner’s pain and humiliation.

Ava also turned to look at Douglas. He had sipped half a glass of water and some colour was returning to his face. The stump of his thumb was wrapped in cloth but blood had seeped through; he was still naked from the waist down.

“It’s worse than it looks,” Ava said, following Ashton’s gaze to the dried feces on Douglas’s thighs.

Carlo pushed Ashton towards her and motioned for him to sit in the chair next to Douglas. As he passed her, Ava smelled urine. “What happened? Did he pee himself?” she asked Carlo.

“No, it was the dog. It splashed him, I guess.”

She turned to Andy. “Tape him.”

Carlo held the gun trained on both men while Andy taped Ashton’s hands together and his legs to the chair. “Now, Mr. Ashton, just so we’re clear, I’m not going to waste my time trying to persuade you to tell me things I already know. Your partner has already confirmed that you manipulated the software and cheated various high-stakes players out of more than sixty million dollars. Some statistical analysis has already been done. The Mohneida are now cross-referencing and confirming the information they’ve been given, but they obviously believe us already. Why else do you think they were prepared to work with us? So you cheated. And you got caught. The only thing up for discussion now is how quickly you’ll return the money to the people you stole it from — my clients.”

“If they and you are so sure we cheated anyone — and I’m not admitting we did — then sue us,” Ashton said. Ava noted his accent. It wasn’t exactly working class but it was rough around the edges.

“Lawyers are very expensive and very slow. We prefer a more direct approach. Mr. Douglas has already experienced it. Maybe you would like to try it yourself?”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Mr. Douglas, would you care to talk to your partner?” Ava said.

“Don’t be an idiot,” Douglas said to Ashton.

“They can’t just do this,” Ashton said.

“I promise you, we can and we will,” Ava said. “We want our money back, and we want it back now.”

Ashton went silent. Ava noticed that sweat was mingling with the blood on his face, and his eyelids were flickering. She turned to Douglas. “Do you have a home office, a computer, a printer?” she asked.

“Yeah, it’s through the door on the left.”

“And when you make a transfer from the Cyprus account, do you use a specific form?”

“No, most times we just write a letter on company letterhead addressed to the bank, asking them to do the transaction. I sign it here, and Jeremy and Lily sign it in London and then send it off to Cyprus.”

At the mention of his fiancee’s name, Ashton’s head spun towards Douglas. “Why did you bring her into it?” he shouted.

“They knew about her already, and if they hadn’t, they would have soon enough.”

“Where is she, by the way?” Ava asked. “I’m assuming she’s in London.”

Ashton was silent.

“That was a question, and I’d like an answer,” Ava said.

“She’s there,” he said.

She turned back to Douglas. “Did you keep copies of previous transfer requests?”

“In the bottom right drawer of my desk there’s a file.”

“Thank you.”

Ava looked at Ashton. He was sweating more profusely now. “Do you need your meds?” she asked.

“Fuck off, you Chinese cunt,” he said.

Ava drew a deep breath. “You really are beginning to irritate me, Mr. Ashton, and I’m not going to waste much more time being nice to you. So let me tell you what’s going to happen now. I’m going to go along to the office and I’m going to prepare a confession that both of you will sign, and a request to transfer $65 million from the account in Cyprus to a bank account in Hong Kong, which the two of you will also sign.”

“That — ” Ashton began.

“Hit him,” Ava said to Carlo, and averted her head as the gun raked across Ashton’s face.