Errors of Judgment(18)
‘A gambling debt, basically. Some rich Saudi gambling on credit at a private casino in Mayfair, paying for his chips by cheque. One night he writes a cheque for about three million, gets into an argument with one of the croupiers, and next day he stops the cheque. We’re acting for the gaming club, trying to recover the debt – some years down the line, I might add.’
‘No time bar, I take it?’
Anthony shook his head, wolfing down a sandwich.
‘Sounds straightforward enough.’
‘You would think so, wouldn’t you? The trouble is, even though he put a stop on this whacking great cheque, the gaming club – Astleigh’s – let him carry on gambling there for the next couple of years, because he was a hugely important client. The croupiers used to call him the Lion King. Something to do with the look of him, his big voice, stuff like that. Anyway, the club carried on grumbling about the debt, trying to strike a deal with him to repay it out of his winnings, but of course that never happened. In the end they lost patience, and now they’re suing for their three million. And here’s the interesting bit. The Lion King is arguing that by allowing him to carry on gambling after his cheque was dishonoured, the club was extending him illegal credit within the meaning of the Gaming Act, so their claim against him is unenforceable. Not only that, on the same basis he’s counterclaiming all the sums he lost gambling during that period.’
‘Cheeky sod,’ chuckled Leo. ‘Who’s on the other side?’
‘Linklaters. They’ve instructed George Freeman.’
‘Sounds like one of his typically ingenious lines of argument. It’ll never wash.’
‘I hope you’re right.’ Anthony took a reflective sip of his orange juice. ‘I don’t understand the attraction of gambling. Surely you know the minute you walk into a casino that the odds are stacked against you.’
‘Of course. That’s not the point. I take it you’ve never gambled?’
Anthony shook his head. ‘Not even as a student. There were always plenty of games of three-card brag or stud poker around, but I never played. I was on such a tight budget I couldn’t afford to lose a penny.’ Anthony was visited by a sudden memory from his student days, of sitting in his bedroom with all the loose change he’d collected from every pocket, cranny and chair-back set out in pathetic little stacks on the table in front of him, trying to work out if it would last the week. ‘The Lion King gambled over fifty million in the space of five years. Fifty million! He could lose a couple of million in a single night and think nothing of it. If you ask me, that’s not just stupid, it’s downright immoral.’
‘You’re right, of course – in theory. But people don’t only gamble for money. They do it for the buzz, the tantalising possibility that just this once, they might get lucky. Of course everyone loses in the long run, but they win often enough to keep them hoping. It’s like any other high. And then there’s the atmosphere. There’s something supercharged about a private gaming club. High stakes, serious money, beautiful people.’
‘All very James Bond, no doubt. But when you come down to it, what’s the difference between a game of roulette and a game of bingo?’
‘A whole world, believe me.’ Leo was suddenly visited by a memory of his own, one of Anthony when he’d just arrived in chambers as a raw and inexperienced pupil, resplendent in a new Marks & Spencer suit, startlingly handsome and intelligent, touchingly naive, perfect to be moulded and educated in the ways of the world. Leo had taken it upon himself to act as a mentor, introducing him to all kinds of entirely straightforward pleasures, which young Anthony had thought the height of sophistication – West End restaurants, decent wine, art galleries, plays, concerts of classical music. It had been a delight to educate him, and to observe his intense enjoyment of things which Leo had long taken for granted. Anthony had represented his own forgotten self, a lower-middle-class grammar school boy of exceptional talents, determined to achieve success and to find acceptance in a class-ridden profession through his own brilliance and professional excellence.
‘Perhaps I should take you to Crockfords some time, or Aspinalls,’ said Leo. ‘It’s an interesting social experience, if nothing else.’
‘Rachel and I have to go to Astleigh’s tomorrow afternoon to talk to the management. Everything that happened took place before the repeal of section sixteen of the Gaming Act, and the club was operating its own credit system, which we need to get our heads around.’