‘I remember now,’ I said. ‘Darling Harbour- a temporary location and a provisional licence.’

Oscar knocked back half of his glass of mineral water in a gulp and chewed on an ice cube. The pricey dental work was good, he chewed recklessly. ‘Right, right. But we’ve spent a bundle on setting it up, and if everything works out right we’ll keep it as an overflow venue. Meantime, it gives us a chance to show what we can do.’

‘And the authorities a chance to pull the chain on you.’

Cartwright wagged a manicured finger at me. ‘You’re hostile. Shouldn’t be hostile.’

He pronounced it ‘hostil’ and I began to wonder where he called home. His dress, speech and mannerisms were a strange mixture of Australian and American. These days Americans can get that way from living here for years and Australians from watching a lot of television. I was finding O.C. harder and harder to read. But I had $150 of his money in my pocket and the least I could do was be civil.

‘I’ll keep an open mind,’ I said. ‘And I’ll take a light beer.’

The casino was in one of those Darling Harbour structures that seem to be made out of glass and white-painted plastic tubing. Oscar explained that his syndicate had taken over a shopping complex that hadn’t been able to find enough tenants and that they had a three-year lease, although their casino licence ran for only two years.

‘Gotta take chances in this business,’ he said as the limmo slid down a ramp into an underground car park. ‘Something not everyone understands. We’re dealing with people and money. They’re the only factors, but how volatile’s that for a combination?’

I gave Graham a wave as he glided off. ‘You tell me.’

‘Powder keg. Contains everything-advertising, fashion, greed, style, you name it. The casino business is at the cutting edge of the human psyche.’