[Part two] Vegas; the Secret ConventionOkay, I was already pretty damned rich myself. Mr. H. wasn’t stingy about paying for my services and he paid...very well. The Gulfstream I flew was bought from monies I’d made at The Castle. It was wheelchair accessible, had an extended range, and was available at my command. ***I suppose there is a difference between a castle and a palace, but at the moment I didn’t have the time to think about it. I was in a secluded subterranean boardroom located two. Dinner, of course, had been excellent, crowned by the particularly fortunate beaujolais nouveau which is, even now, plummeting towards the floor. The conversation had started out light with bad weather and politics. He carefully navigated the fjords of international finance, she struck deep into the heart of his syllabus on Marlowe, and dinner wore on from asparagus soup to skewered lamb, both of them growing ever more nervous by the moment. She had meant to tell him-honestly, actually,. More

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