I said, 'Can't leave you much room to know anything else.'

He leaned back. 'You'd be surprised. I know you failed contract law at the University of New South Wales and abandoned your studies. I know that you are banned for life from holding a private enquiry agent's licence in New South Wales and, by extension, anywhere in Australia. I know you had investments worth several hundred thousand dollars and it has all gone.'

I shrugged. 'I never felt good about being rich anyway.'

'How do you feel about being bankrupt?'

'It's not that bad.'

'It will be, and soon.'

He brought a computer to life and tapped the keys. 'Let me see if I've got this right. Richard Malouf was a partner in the very honest and upright firm that controlled your financial affairs. Unhappily, he was neither honest nor upright. Because of your, shall I say, careless attitude to your assets, he was able, over time, to liquidate the majority of your shares and hive off the money to accounts he controlled.'

I sighed. 'I don't really want to hear this. Malouf gambled the money away and got himself shot when he ran up a tab with someone who got impatient first and then got angry. You're right; when I inherited some money I took my business to an accounting firm someone had recommended: a big firm.'

Standish smiled. 'A mistake as it turned out. You should've come to me.'

Not likely, I thought, but he was accurate. I met the boss of the accounting firm-a Lebanese Australian named Perry Hassan-and liked him. He introduced me to Malouf. We talked; he seemed to understand my diffidence about being a capitalist investor. I trusted him. Financial matters bore me. I signed things I shouldn't have and put things away in a drawer unopened.