They gaze at the deceptively simple view through a window and through the masts of the boats of the fishing harbour.

‘My father loved it.’

‘We will find a worthy home for it. In honour of your father.’

He smiles a satrap’s smile.

‘A major private collector, no Russian Mafia, no City boys.’

‘No, no, of course not. Am I correct in saying that two years’ embargo is required?’

‘You are, of course.’

‘I know just the person for this magnificent painting.’

‘Thirty million net. Is that what you said?’

‘Absolutely no doubt about it. Our minimum. I would like to put it away in the vault now.’

‘Please do. No, I don’t need a receipt from you, Kasimir.’

‘Are you still enjoying the Hodgkin, Mr Trevelyan-Tubal?’

‘I love it. It’s behind my desk in the bank.’

‘Wonderful picture. You were absolutely right to commission it when you did. Now . . .’

He shrugs philosophically to indicate that the Hodgkin boom has surprised even him.

‘Well, it was you who put me on to him.’

‘Ah yes. I think I can secure payment for the Matisse within a few weeks. Is that convenient?’

‘Absolutely.’

Close up, Kasimir’s skin is pitted, with little black marks in the indentations, and his teeth, when revealed in courteous and dutiful smiles, are very large, almost intimidating, but perfect in shape and colour. Julian remembers him with some prominent gold teeth, but these have all been converted to this dazzling array, like rows of stucco houses in Belgravia. He is a vain old man and probably a tyrant in his private life, but nobody in the art world is more astute or more knowledgeable. He has never been interviewed and he has never written an opinion in any journal. But his private authentication can add millions to the value of a work of art. He will know that something is up, just from the fact that Julian Trevelyan-Tubal, chairman and joint CEO of Tubal’s, came himself on foot to deliver the Matisse. He will never breathe a word.

Back at the bank, Julian sends out for some flowers and he writes a short note to be attached.

For Estelle,

As I said, you are one of us. Deeply grateful,

Julian x

Kim has been trying to reach him. His secretary puts the messages in front of him. She has also sent him a text, her preferred form of communication.

Don’t forget, Fleur and Simon dinner tonite @8. lol

How could I forget? I was thinking of you and huskies in Jukkasjarvi (sp?) today. Do you remember? Jx

Hand job? lol