I motioned for Grigor Thomas to wait in the car, then stepped out and followed the sunglasses-wearing bodyguard into the café. In a corner seat sat a pale, dignified man. When he spotted me, he gestured, "Please."
The bodyguard pulled out the chair, and after I flopped down, a server came over and poured tea.
I said, "I don't think I know you."
The man smiled faintly, "My name is Paul. I'm the president of the Iberian Chamber of Commerce."
I made as if to stand, "Then it seems we have nothing more to discuss."
Paul spoke quickly, "I hope Mr. Curry, you can show some mercy. After all, the underground bank business includes your share."
I looked down on him, "What do you mean?"
