‘And our objective?’ It was a classic Roland Bentley pronouncement: straight to the point. Both he and Pearson looked at Gilbey.

‘To see whether these fellows are involved in funding the Kestrel Line. If Roly believes they are then he’ll say he wants to make a small donation and we can see how matters develop from there. No heroics, please, Roly: I’ll have a couple of chaps outside the gallery just in case.’

‘I’m not sure what you think I’m going to do, Tom. I sense they may indeed want me to make a donation to their cause – that’s the most likely outcome, wouldn’t you have thought? In which case you’d better make sure there are sufficient funds in the Coutts account.’

‘How much did you have in mind?’

‘Twenty-five pounds should open a door or two: plus the cost of the painting, of course.’

Sir Roland Pearson’s return visit to Bourne and Sons did not start well. He was shocked as he approached the gallery on Cork Street to see a silver-grey Jaguar sports saloon parked more or less outside the building. It was obvious to him that the two middle-aged men in the car – both reading newspapers – were Gilbey’s ‘chaps’, as he called them, there ‘just in case’.

He hoped they were not as obvious to other people.

When he entered the gallery, there was no sign of Ridgeway. No sooner had the bell rung as he opened the door than a man appeared from the rear. He was shorter than Ridgeway and about the same age, wearing a black suit with a grey waistcoat and a bow tie.

‘May I help you?’ He sounded more confident than Ridgeway, less servile. Pearson said he had met a Mr Ridgeway here two days earlier who had suggested he return around this time.

‘And for what purpose, may I ask, sir?’

Pearson hesitated. He had no idea who this man was. ‘I was interested in purchasing a painting, actually: the Wright of Derby landscape.’ He’d moved in front of the painting, admiring it once again. It was actually a fine piece, one that would look good in his study. Maybe Bentley would let him have it at a discount once this was all over.

‘An excellent choice, sir, a very good example of Wright’s work, and I have little doubt a painting like this will appreciate considerably in value. You will of course understand that its excellence is reflected in its price.’

‘Of course.’

‘We are asking two hundred and thirty guineas for it, sir. May I know your name?’

‘Hawke – with an “e”. Anthony Hawke.’

‘Ah yes, indeed, Donald did say you had shown interest in this particular painting and might be returning. Are you by any chance related to the Dorset Hawkes?’

‘No, Westmorland actually, though my wife and I are in the process of moving to the North Riding. We’re rather between the two at the moment.’

‘The Pennine Hills, then?’

‘I beg your pardon?’