'That's very imaginative,' Ann said.

Warren smiled his thanks. 'I'm told they found something after I left, something called Yigael's Wall. They'll send it as soon as it's ready.' He pointed to another room on the floor plan. 'I'm keeping this far gallery in reserve, just in case.’

Ann's interest grew more intense at the mention of Yigael's Wall. 'Who exactly was this Yigael?' she asked.

'A rather mysterious character,' said Warren. 'A monk and an exorcist. Supposed to have lived in the thirteenth century. The story goes that Satan appeared to him, and, not unexpectedly, he went out of his mind.'

Warren had expected Ann to laugh at that—it was most people's reaction—but, to his surprise, she did not. So he went on with his explanation: 'He then went into hiding. Apparently he was so obsessed with the face of Satan that all he could do was paint the Anti-Christ, as only he had seen Him, from His birth until His downfall.' Warren shrugged. 'I guess he was determined to leave the world a record of his vision. Yigael himself was never seen again. Only his wall.'

'I can't wait to see it,' said Ann excitedly. She was fascinated by Warren's stories and bits of historical background.

'And now,' Warren said, pointing at the floor plan once again, 'for your favourite piece—the Whore of Babylon! We're putting it right here in the middle of Room Four, so that no one can miss it.'

In the midst of their discussion, Joan Hart suddenly entered the room.

Warren looked up. 'Joan!' he said with both surprise and delight in his voice. ‘This is perfect! When did you get in?'

'Last night.' She smiled nervously. She was trying to disguise the urgency she felt.

'Ann,' Warren said, drawing her into the conversation, 'this is Joan Hart, the young lady—'

'- in your slide,' Ann finished. She had a photographic memory when it came to other beautiful women.

Warren nodded. 'Standing beside the Whore of Babylon.'

Ann thought of several quick replies to that remark but decided against using any of them. Instead, she said, 'I'm Ann Thorn. You're the one who wanted to interview my husband.'

'I did interview him,' Joan said.

Warren was furious. All the pleasantries were instantly forgotten. 'I explicitly told you-' he began.

But Joan cut him off. ‘You didn't understand how important this was to me,' she said. 'I just couldn't take no for an answer.'

'You must be very persuasive,' Ann said, her tone less than friendly. 'How did you manage to get to him?'

Joan could be bitchy when she wanted to, and Ann was making her want to. 'I threw myself at him!' she said, mustering as much charm as she could. 'Right into his big shiny car.