Collis stood up and bowed his head. ‘I’m sorry, Sarah. In the surprise of the moment, I forgot my manners. This is Maria, whose house this is. This is Mr Dan McReady, of the Eagle Saloon. And this is Mr Andrew Jackson Hunt, one of my partners in the Sierra Pacific Railroad. Oh — and the gentleman behind you is Mr Figgis, the calotypist.’

‘I still don’t understand,’ said Sarah. ‘Are you keeping me here for a ransom? Are you going to sell me off to white slavers? And why were you going to take calotypes of me?’

Collis turned to Maria-Mamuska. ‘I believe we could all use a drink,’ he told her. Maria-Mamuska nodded, said, ‘Sure,’ and went to arrange it, dropping a curtsey to Sarah as she passed her by.

‘Andy, Dan,’ said Collis indicating that he would rather be left alone with Sarah. They left, both of them sheepish. Dan peeled off his false moustache as he walked out, grimacing with the pain of it.

‘Perhaps you’d care to sit down,’ Collis told Sarah.

‘Very well,’ Sarah replied, walking across the room and arranging herself on the purple daybed. ‘And perhaps you’d care to explain.’

‘You don’t mind if I smoke?’

‘You look as if you need something to settle your nerves.’

‘Yes,’ said Collis. ‘I believe I do.’

‘This is serious, isn’t it?’ asked Sarah. ‘It’s not just some kind of a practical joke against my father?’

‘Well, it is and it isn’t,’ Collis admitted. ‘It’s a joke in the sense that we never had any intention of harming you. And it’s a joke in the sense that it’s new-fangled, and nobody’s ever tried it before. But, well, it didn’t quite work out the way we planned it.’

Sarah leaned forward on the daybed. In the gloomy afternoon light, her eyes glistened brightly, and her diamond choker sparked off curved rainbows and winking stars. Collis could smell her perfume, and he knew that he’d forgotten how beautiful she was, and how sensual.

‘I didn’t really want to involve you in this at all,’ Collis said. ‘More than anything, I didn’t want to take advantage of your friendship. But there are other considerations, far more pressing. I’m afraid you were perfect for what I wanted to do.’

‘But what did you want to do?’ she asked him. ‘You still haven’t told me.’

Collis stood up and paced across to the spyhole. He lifted the flap, and a dusty ray of sunlight pierced the room. The rain must be clearing outside, he thought. He wished to God he’d never been headstrong enough to believe that his preposterous plan would work.