‘Of course, sir,’ she replied, and followed the signs. The old man purchased a postcard of Fishers of Men and an illustrated catalogue of the McLaren family collection, before the nurse took him back to his waiting limousine. He spotted a young policeman in plainclothes who didn’t give them a second look, as a chauffeur and the nurse helped the old man out of the wheelchair and into the back of the car.

As the limousine drove slowly out of the grounds, the old man turned to the first page of the catalogue, which displayed the McLaren family tree from 1736 to the present day. The first Lord McLaren, it seemed, had made his fortune in the early years of the Industrial Revolution, and his interest in art, which had begun as an amateur, became a passion during his middle age and, following ‘the European Tour’, an obsession: when he died in 1822, his collection was considered to be among the finest in private hands. By the time the limousine pulled up outside the entrance to Aberdeen airport, the old man had come to the end of the first Lord McLaren’s life.

An attractive airport hostess took over from the nurse and wheeled the elderly gentleman to the front of the queue for customs. Once his passport had been checked, he was taken straight to the waiting aircraft.

During the flight home, he learnt how the second and third Lord McLarens had added Turner, Constable and Gainsborough to the collection, enhancing its growing reputation. The old man was among the last to leave the aircraft after it had landed, and by then he’d discovered how the fourth Lord McLaren had discovered the Impressionists, and acquired a Monet, a Manet and two Matisses before he passed away.

While he was being wheeled towards customs, he became engrossed in the fifth Lord McLaren’s desire to purchase works by his own countrymen to hang alongside the Italian, French and English masters, so McTaggart, Raeburn, Peploe and Farquharson were added to the collection. Sadly, the sixth Lord McLaren showed no interest in art, only in fast cars and even faster women, which resulted in several of the paintings having to be sold to cover his extravagances. When he died of a heart attack at the age of sixty-three, he left his only son the title and no choice but to part with the Caravaggio if he hoped to keep the taxman at bay.

The old man progressed slowly through customs. By the time he reached the arrivals hall, he’d also reached the end of the book.

His chauffeur wheeled him out of the airport to his waiting car, which was parked in the disabled zone. He opened the back door for his master, who got out of his wheelchair, walked across to the car and climbed into the back seat. Lazarus would have been proud of him.

CHAPTER 16

‘WHERE ARE THE TWINS?’ ASKED Sir Julian, before Beth and William had even hung up their coats.