Victor quickly signalled to Mauro who reluctantly knelt down and wiped the offending sand away with a cloth. Ugo watched him with an expression of extreme distaste.

‘Would you care to stay for dinner?’ said Victor, trying to lighten the mood. ‘It is late and you have a long journey back.’

‘That is most kind of you,’ said Ugo. ‘My sister and I would be delighted, Signor Delacroix.

James was sick of the sound of Ugo’s voice. The man couldn’t stop talking, and he had only one subject – himself. All through dinner he had bored everyone with his views on philosophy and religion and politics, and how the local people were lazy and untrustworthy.

Now he had got on to the subject of money, or to be more precise, his own great wealth.

‘Silver,’ he was saying, as Victor nodded politely. ‘It was silver that paid for everything. Inside the mountain, beneath my palazzo, is my silver mine. I had other mines on the island before – lead and zinc and coal – but they were not profitable. I sold them all and went to the Gennargentu. I had a hunch.’ He tapped his nose. ‘I can smell silver. Everyone said that I was mad. But I didn’t listen. I tunnelled into the mountain with explosives. No silver. I tunnelled deeper. Still no silver . . . but then one day – silver! I proved them wrong.’

He laughed, then stopped to wipe his lips on a pristine white napkin, which he instantly dropped to the floor as if it were some disgusting dead animal.

There were five people around the table. Victor and Poliponi, Ugo and Jana, who barely touched her food, and James.

James missed the relaxed informality of his previous meals at the villa. Victor had pulled out all the stops tonight and the table was covered with gleaming silverware, fine porcelain and a crisp white linen tablecloth.

‘I tore the heart out of the mountain,’ Ugo went on. ‘And I used the stone I removed to build my palazzo.’ He turned and said something quickly to Poliponi in Italian. The artist smiled and looked impressed.

‘I was just saying to Signor Poliponi how much art I have in my palazzo,’ said Ugo. ‘I love art. I am a very cultured man. I love art and architecture and music. I want to live among beautiful things. The Emperor Napoleon stole art from all around Europe, including much Italian art, the greatest art the world has ever seen. Like him, I am filling my home with art.’

‘Napoleon was a great man,’ said Poliponi. ‘A strong leader. He understood that fame is the most important thing. To be immortal.’