For Your Own Protection(66)

‘I’ve been once before, but it was a few years ago.’

Tony smiled. ‘Not much of a gambler then?’

‘No. It really doesn’t do anything for me. Sorry.’

‘No need to apologise.’

‘I know a few of your regulars though. From UGT Bank.’

‘Ah,’ he said. ‘Including the one you were asking about?’

‘Yes.’

‘That’s why I wanted to speak to you.’ Tony looked over his shoulder. ‘We do our union debriefs in here, and meet with members, because we know management wouldn’t be seen dead in a place like this. But you can never be too careful.’

‘You tried to help me in there,’ Matt said. ‘Thanks.’

‘Don’t mention it. I’m afraid you can’t do what you did tonight and not get picked out. Samson’s too sharp an operator to let that go unchecked.’

‘Yes, I should have been more careful.’

‘You were lucky,’ Tony said. ‘I don’t know what you’re after, but he obviously decided you weren’t worth the trouble.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning he let you walk out of there in one piece.’

‘Is he really that dangerous?’

‘He’s a very dangerous man.’

Matt gulped down his fear with a slurp of tea. ‘But he’s just a businessman, isn’t he?’

‘He has his fingers in many pies,’ Tony said.

‘In what way?’

‘Well, he makes most of his money from online gambling. Poker, mainly. You might have heard of his platform, Ace of Clubs?’

Matt nodded – Sean had the app.

‘That’s his main focus. The club is very much a sideline. He bought it mostly for the networking opportunities with clients. And then there’s his latest venture, the gentleman’s club in the West End, Delilah’s. Again, he networks there a lot.’

‘But why dangerous?’

Another glance around. ‘Extortion, fraud, money-laundering, drug-running . . .’

‘Really?’

‘You remember that big robbery last year? The one where the thieves tunnelled into the vault of safe-deposit boxes, got away with millions?’

‘Birch Grove?’

‘Yes, that’s the one. They still haven’t found out who did it.’

Matt knew that case well. ‘Some of my colleagues, they had boxes there. Lost hundreds of thousands of pounds between them.’ Those colleagues included Sean and Gabriel. And while Gabriel’s loss was a closely guarded secret, Sean had confided in Matt that his box, which had been emptied, had contained forty thousand pounds’ worth of gold bullion.

‘There are rumours, probably coming from himself, that Samson was involved. He likes people to know how clever he is – likes toying with the authorities. He knows he’ll never be caught.’

‘Why won’t he be caught?’

‘Friends in high places. And that includes the Metropolitan Police.’

Suddenly Matt’s idea that night to walk into the club and start asking questions seemed not just reckless, but downright suicidal. And yet, Samson had let him leave unscathed, after only some minor, if uncomfortable questioning. But why? Maybe the croupier was right, and Samson had decided it wasn’t worth the hassle to take things any further.

Or maybe there was another explanation.

Matt looked across at Tony, who was slurping at his coffee.

Could this all be a trap? Was this man actually acting under the orders of Samson – told to follow Matt and find out what he was really after?

‘Why are you telling me all this?’

‘Because I’ve seen too many people done over by Nick Samson. When I heard you asking about James Farrah, then saw you getting kicked out, I decided maybe I should help. Ten years ago, I would have shrugged it off, but what the hell. James was a good tipper. I’ve been wondering what happened to him myself.’

‘So how can you help?’

Tony placed his mug on the table and began rubbing his hands, pushing the skin towards his knuckles. ‘You and him, you’re close work colleagues?’

‘I wouldn’t say that. We worked in the same department at UGT, but we don’t really get on.’

‘So why were you asking about him?’

‘To protect my son.’

‘I don’t follow.’

‘James Farrah is in a relationship with my ex-partner. I think he’s involved with something that has put my son at risk, and I think it might be linked to the casino.’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘I found something. And I think it’s related to Nick Samson. I think maybe he owes him money.’

Matt expected to see some sign of confirmation that his hypothesis was along the right lines, but Tony’s reaction was the opposite. He laughed in disbelief at Matt’s suggestion. ‘James Farrah owes Samson money? I don’t think so.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Because James is one of the most successful players at Samson’s. He wins big, and often. He’s been so successful, in fact, that a call went out some months ago to do enhanced monitoring to make sure he’s not using a system. I know Samson’s always wary of your lot, given you work with numbers, risk, and odds all day, but statistically the UGT crowd are usually no more likely to win than anyone else who comes to the club. Personally speaking, I think James is just on an extended lucky run. It happens. Eventually the odds equalise. The punters come out of it in the black if they quit while they’re ahead. Or they start believing the luck will return, and run themselves into the red. But this has been going on for a long time. I’ve heard rumours they were thinking of banning him.’