In the 1990s he was a byword for excess: Prince Jefri Bolkiah, the wayward younger brother of the Sultan of Brunei, who toured the world buying up trophy assets on behalf of the oil-rich state, from the jeweller Asprey & Garrard to the landmark Dorchester hotel.
With his fleet of private planes, including a Boeing 747 allegedly converted to carry polo ponies, million-pound shopping sprees and a luxurious yacht called Tits (complete with the tastefully named tenders Nipple One and Nipple Two), Prince Jefri was the Playboy Prince.
Yet in person the shy Jefri failed to live up to his billing. When I first met him, in Paris in October 2006, it was impossible to reconcile the impeccably dressed, quiet, restrained man who sat across the table with the profligate prince I had read so much about - the man who for 10 years had been engaged in a bitter battle with his brother, himself at one time the richest man in the world.The solid silver tissue-box holders and excessive use of gold paint and red fabrics in the opulent Paris apartment, next door to the Ritz hotel, were hardly in the best taste - but the former finance minister of Brunei did not look like the sort of man who would reportedly spend millions of pounds on exotic motor cars.
But spend he did, for several years, until the Asian crisis of the late 1990s brought his high living to an end. Amid the fallout from the financial crash that saw economies crumble across Asia, Prince Jefri found himself accused of misappropriating $8 billion (£4 billion) from Brunei, the tiny Asian state - not much bigger than Norfolk - ruled by his brother.
The resulting row between the prince and the sultan sparked a family feud - and a decade-long legal battle that climaxed this week with a High Court judge in London issuing a warrant for Prince Jefri's arrest after he refused to attend proceedings. In the latest twist to the story, the Playboy Prince is now "on the run".
It was not supposed to end like this. When I first met Prince Jefri in Paris, he was in an upbeat mood. Accompanied by his advisers, he was confident of agreeing a truce with his brother and negotiating a £200 million-plus "lifestyle agreement".
Two months after we met in Paris, he agreed to do his first ever interview, breaking a decade of self-imposed silence. The interview was clearly part of a wider strategy to "force" the sultan to the negotiating table, despite the fact that the two had not spoken for two years.
We met at his London home, St John's Lodge, hidden behind huge gates on the Inner Circle of Regent's Park. It is without doubt one of the grandest houses in London, bought in 1994 for £40 million. Today, even in the midst of a credit crisis, the house is worth at least £100 million. It is also one of the numerous assets that the Brunei Investment Authority is now trying to seize.
Alongside Prince Jefri throughout the interview, and on all but one of the occasions that we met over the subsequent months, was one of his four wives, a stunning Englishwoman (I never caught her name, as we were never introduced). There were also, as usual, close to a dozen advisers, as well as other family members (Prince Jefri has 17 children aged between two and 35).
"I am no angel, for sure, but I have been the fall guy," he said during a bizarre hour-long conversation in which he seemed bemused by the allegations coming his way. The tales of high living were exaggerated, he said. As for the expensive toys, he never had time to use them: he had set foot on the notorious Tits only half a dozen times.
"It is strange when you are reading it [the tabloid coverage]. It is upsetting, particularly for my children," he added, before claiming that much of the spending had been on behalf of his brother.
At the end of our interview, Prince Jefri gave me a tour of the house. It was even more impressive than the Paris apartment, with its dining room that sits 48. Strangely, there were still numerous gold-framed official portraits of his brother in full military regalia on sideboards and tables, along with gifts from heads of state and bowls of sweets. There were also more domestic touches: pushchairs and children's toys were scattered around the house, as well as unpacked boxes of files and papers.
But should the errant Prince Jefri return to the UK, he is likely to find himself living in the rather less impressive surroundings of HMP Pentonville, following his failure to appear at the High Court. The judge adjourned the case after issuing a bench warrant for the prince's arrest, which could be extended to cover the European Union if he does not give himself up voluntarily.
Prince Jefri stands accused of contempt of court after he allegedly failed to disclose several secret bank accounts and allowed money to be taken out of accounts that had been frozen by a previous court order. He could be jailed for up to two years if found guilty.
"Given his apparent stance, if he is arrested it will take an advocate of great skill to persuade me he should have bail," said the judge.
It is hard to imagine the Playboy Prince adjusting to prison life. At 53, he is more pampered than playboy.
The number of hangers-on might have dwindled during the decade-long legal battle with his brother, but Prince Jefri still retains the trappings of the super-rich, with numerous servants and former Gurkhas at his disposal in both London and Paris.
Many of those who continued to surround Prince Jefri after his exposure had lived off the family for almost their entire lifetimes. Deeply loyal, they - like their master - seemed to have little grip on the position that the prince had found himself in.
Others, though, had more mercenary motives. "If you didn't make a million in tips during the good times, you were stupid," said one of those who had accompanied the family during the early 1990s.
I last met Prince Jefri in early 2007 as he passed through London on his way from Paris to the US. We met in one of London's smartest hotels. The prince was yet again surrounded by an entourage of advisers and lawyers. They had just lost the latest round of one of his numerous legal battles; the talk among them was about the next one.
Prince Jefri seemed distracted. "I am tired of lawyers. It is frustrating. It is sad. I have seen too many lawyers," he had told me a few months earlier. As he got up to leave, I asked him whether he hoped to be reconciled with his brother. "Of course," he replied.
