Sir John was normally awakened at half past eight every morning by a butler who brought him his breakfast, another butler who brought him his clothes, a third butler whose job it was to feed Adolf and Stalin if necessary, and a fourth butler who was basically a spare.

At nine o’clock his secretary came and read him his appointments for today.

When he did so this morning, though, he found him still staring at his plate with a strange expression. Adolf and Stalin swam contentedly in the tank by his desk.

‘Five different kinds of pill, some biscuits made of cardboard and a glass of orange juice with all the excitement removed,’ said Sir John. ‘What’s the point of being the richest man in the world – I am still the richest man in the world, aren’t I?’

‘Yes, Sir John.’

‘Well, what’s the point if it all boils down to pills for breakfast?’ He drummed his fingers on the table. ‘Well … I’ve had enough, d’y’hear? Tell Hickson to get the car out.’

‘Which car, Sir John?’

‘The Bentley.’

‘Which Bentley, Sir John?’

‘Oh, one I haven’t used lately. He can choose. And find Blackbury on the map. We own a burger bar there, don’t we?’

‘Er … I think so, Sir John. Wasn’t that the one where you personally chose the site? You said you just knew it would be a good one. Er … but today you’ve got appointments to see the chairman of—’

‘Cancel ’em all. I’m going to Blackbury. Don’t tell ’em I’m coming. Call it … a lightning inspection. The secret of success in business is to pay attention to the little details, am I right? People get underdone burgers or the fries turn out to be too soggy and before you know where you are the entire business is down around your ears.’

‘Er … if you say so, Sir John.’

‘Right. I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.’

‘Er … you could, perhaps, leave it until tomorrow? Only the committee did ask that—’

‘No!’ The old man slapped the table. ‘It’s got to be today! Today’s when it all happens, you see. Mrs Tachyon. The trolley. Johnny and the rest of them. It’s got to be today. Otherwise …’ He pushed away the dull yet healthy breakfast. ‘Otherwise it’s this for the rest of my life.’

The secretary was used to Sir John’s moods, and tried to lighten things a little.

‘Blackbury …’ he said. ‘That’s where you were evacuated during the war, wasn’t it? And you were the only person to escape when one of the streets got bombed?’

‘Me and two goldfish called Adolf and Stalin. That’s right. That’s where it all started,’ said Sir John, getting up and going over to the window. ‘Go on, jump to it.’

The secretary didn’t go straightaway. One of his jobs was to keep an eye on Sir John. The old boy was acting a bit odd, people had said. He’d taken to reading very old newspapers and books with words like ‘Time’ and ‘Physics’ in the title, and sometimes he even wrote angry letters to very important scientists. When you’re the richest man in the world, people watch you very closely.