Michael Ridpath - Free To Trade

Powell himself worried me. I had seen that he was a man who made judgements quickly. He was tough and impatient, and I had no comfort that he would be scrupulous in the way he gathered evidence. He knew I was guilty and he was going to nail me one way or another.

And I was sure Powell usually got his way.

Murder! Insider dealing had seemed a bad enough crime to be accused of, but it was nothing compared to murder. And of Debbie as well, of all the injustices.

As soon as I got home, I called Denny. Luckily he was working late. His advice was clear. Treat Powell's suspicions seriously. However, it was unlikely that Powell had enough evidence to charge me yet. If Powell wanted to talk to me again, I should refuse unless Denny was present. Until then, all I could do was wait and see what happened.

The bar was cool, dark and almost empty. It was still quite early. I nursed my pint of Davy's Old Wallop, whilst I waited for Cash and Cathy to arrive.

I heard Cash before I saw him. His voice echoed round the empty cellar as he came down the stairs from the street above. 'Jesus, Cathy, it's like a morgue down here.'

I had selected somewhere quiet to meet. Perhaps that was a mistake. Cash's voice would carry much further in an empty bar than a full one. I looked round. Three sets of canoodling couples, who were also looking for quiet and darkness, and a group of men in their early twenties, swiftly getting drunk. It should be safe.

I was apprehensive about meeting Cash; he did not seem at all apprehensive about meeting me. He bustled into the bar and headed straight for me, hand outstretched, and a big smile on his face. 'Paul! Good to see you. How have you been?' He pulled up a chair. Cathy followed him a couple of steps behind. She gave me a discreet but very sweet smile as she joined us at the table. 'Boy, that was really rough what happened to you. Cathy told me all about it. I can't believe they did that to you.'

I found myself warming to him. His concern did seem genuine; it was nice to hear somebody believe me. Watch out, I warned myself, trusting Cash is a dangerous business.

'Hallo, Cash,' I said coldly, briefly shaking his hand. He looked hurt at my coolness. I relented. 'Can I get you a drink?' I said trying to be polite, if not exactly friendly.

'Sure, I'll have whatever it is you've got there,' he said, pointing to my tankard of Davy's. It took me only a minute to get it, together with a Perrier for Cathy.

There was a distinctly awkward atmosphere at the table as I returned. I didn't say anything as I set the drinks down.

Cash took a sip, grimaced, and said, 'Interesting.' He was uncomfortable with the silence, as was Cathy. I found I didn't really want to talk to Cash, and regretted agreeing to the meeting. 'You haven't missed that much these last two weeks,' Cash said to break the silence. He chattered on for five minutes about the market, with me giving him minimal help.

As this one-way conversation petered to a halt, Cathy interrupted. 'I got you two together, because I think you have a lot to say to each other. So why don't you start, Paul,' she said firmly. 'Tell Cash about the TSA investigation.'

I hesitated a moment, and then I told him. Cash listened closely all the way through. At the end he said, 'It sure seems flimsy to me. It doesn't look like they have any direct proof.'

'Were you interviewed by the TSA?' I asked.

'Yes, I was,' he said. 'That whole thing scared the life out of me. First you tell me that Bowen's on to you. Then I get grilled by Berryman. And then you get the sack for insider trading.'

Cash took a gulp of his beer. 'That really worried me. I mean, I knew I hadn't done anything wrong, but firms like Bloomfield Weiss are happy to look for fall guys if there is any dirt flying around.

'Then suddenly last week, I got called into a meeting with the head of the London office. He told me that evidence had been found that Joe Finlay had been buying large amounts of Gypsum of America stock for his personal account, based on inside information. He had also built up a sizeable position in the bonds for Bloomfield Weiss, but the authorities were now convinced that no one else in the firm was involved. I can't tell you how relieved I was.'

Cathy listened with interest to this, her brows knitted in concentration. 'What I can't understand,' she said, 'is why Paul isn't in the clear. If the TSA think Cash had nothing to do with it, then unless they think that Joe and Paul were in regular contact it should prove that there was no channel for Paul to get the information.'

'You're right,' I said.

Cash nodded. 'She is right. You should see someone about it. Either De Jong or the TSA. I'll back you up.'

I smiled, 'Thanks, Cash.' And I was thankful. Having escaped unharmed, there was probably nothing Cash would rather do less than reopen the whole question. It was good of him to offer to do so. 'I'll phone the TSA in the morning.'

I sipped my beer. 'I wonder if Joe knew Debbie was on to him?'

'What do you mean?' said Cash.

'Well, Debbie tipped Bowen at Bloomfield Weiss off that something funny was going on. If Joe found out about it he would have been quite upset.'

'You mean he might have killed her?'

I raised my eyebrows. 'Maybe.'

'Jesus, maybe he did,' Cash said. 'But I am not so sure that Joe was acting completely alone in all of this.'

'Why is that?' I asked.

'Well, he had to get the information from somewhere. I mean a German company taking over an American target. How would a bond trader in London hear about that?'

'Careless talk?'

'Maybe. Maybe not.'

I thought for a second. 'What about Irwin Piper? He specialises in just that sort of thing, doesn't he? Did Joe know him?'

'I was just thinking along those lines,' said Cash. 'Yes, he did. I'm not sure how they met, but somehow or other they had gotten to know each other pretty well.'

I rubbed my chin and thought about it some more. 'It is possible. But how can we find out?'

'We may be able to work out something from his trading tickets!' said Cathy. 'They should still be around somewhere. I'll have a look tomorrow.'

'It's worth a try,' I said.

'Well, I am glad we are getting somewhere,' said Cathy. 'Now there is something else we wanted to talk to you about, Cash.'

I looked sharply at Cathy. I was prepared to believe Cash had nothing to do with the Gypsum insider trading, but that did not mean I trusted him on everything else.

'Paul, I think we should tell him,' she said. 'Trust me.'

I hesitated. I was tempted to accept Cathy's plea to trust her. I found it difficult myself to believe that Cash was the brains behind the Tremont operation. What the hell, I thought. Why not confront him with it? I had been dodging around for weeks trying to get answers from people without alerting them. I was getting impatient. I wanted to know. Now.

'OK,' I nodded my head. 'Let me get you another drink, Cash. You'll need it with what I am about to tell you.'

So I bought Cash another drink, and told him more or less everything that had happened from Debbie's death on. It was the first time I had ever seen Cash at a loss for words. His jaw literally dropped as I went through my story. When I finished it, I looked him straight in the eye, 'Well?' I said.

It took a while for Cash to collect his thoughts. 'Christ!' he said. Then, 'Jesus!'

'Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?' I asked.

'No, sure, go ahead,' said Cash absently, his mind still going over the implications of what I had just told him.

'Did you know that the Honshu Bank guarantee on the Tremont Capital bonds never existed?'

'No, I didn't,' he said. Then his eyes flared up with anger. 'You think I'm involved with this, don't you?'