“This is damned treachery!” Victor shouted. “If you’re intent on creating enemies, you’ve made a hell of a start! I’ll make sure my guild exacts full payment!”

“—feel to be inadequate,” Lash went on, “it shall be rejected. Even with the object of the cardinal’s desire.” He walked toward Victor amid the stone benches. When he reached the man he produced a small pistol from within his medalled naval jacket and cocked it.

He levelled it at Victor’s head. Victor’s eyes widened, but he had no time for any further reaction.

The shot blew a sizeable chunk from Victor’s skull. Blood spattered into Julian’s face. In an instant the body had slithered down as if the bones were turned to jelly.

“One less enemy, it appears,” said Samson Lash after the echoes of the gun’s roar had faded. He waved the pistol’s barrel beneath his nose to smell the pungent perfume of its blue smoke. “I dislike threats. Now it also appears our friend Victor is no longer a valid participant in this auction. Any further questions or comments?”

“I need a napkin,” said Julian, his voice unusually shaky.

“Are you planning to murder us all?” Lioness’s gaze was fixed on the pistol. “If you are, I will say—no threat implied, sir—that our affiliations might wish to remedy their losses.”

“Murder you all? Of course not! I see that the rest of you are hard-nosed people of business who understand my position. And … that you understand your own positions … no threat implied, madam. Besides, Victor offered a terrible bid. I nearly dispatched him right there in my study.”

The childlike voice of Miles Merda piped up. “I don’t give a fuck. My bid’ll stand up against anybody’s.”

“Let me understand this,” said Krakowski, whose head might have still been befuddled. “You are asking us to wait in London for one week until this boy comes back? And not until then will you have decided who has won the book? But … sir … what if the boy does not come back? What if when you let him go, he is just simply gone?”

Lash spent a moment holstering his pistol underneath his jacket. “Simple answers,” he replied. “If Corbett does not return, the book goes to the winner here. Mr. Devane becomes another dance partner in this arena, I will give you all a feast by which to remember this event, I will see you off at your various sailings and all will be well with the world.”

“I do not like it,” said Lioness. She lifted a hand that was almost as large as Lash’s and showed her palm in order to prevent the reappearance of a pistol. “But I do not fail to appreciate the fact that you wish as much gain as possible for your possession. Therefore I protest only in spirit.”