‘Yes. Really. Shall we go?’ He gestured with his hand. ‘This way please.’

The close company of the two muscular waiters persuaded Nick he had little choice but to go. A curtain was drawn back near the entrance to the room, revealing a door through which Vardekar led the way into a long, comfortably furnished lounge. One wall of the room comprised the reverse sides of the screens, which functioned like two-way mirrors. Nick could see Emergence’s guests flicking at their tablets as the auction proceeded, overlaid by the ghostly, transparent images of the pictures projected on the screens, drained of colour.

Glancing behind him, he saw that the two waiters hadn’t come into the room with them. It was just him and Vardekar – plus comfortable couches and an extensive drinks cabinet.

‘Would you like something stronger than champagne, Nick?’ Vardekar asked with a smile. ‘Whisky? Brandy?’

‘Just those answers you promised.’

Vardekar poured himself a whisky. ‘Sure you won’t keep me company?’

‘I’m fine, thanks.’

‘So …’ Vardekar sat down and gestured for Nick to sit down too, but he remained standing. He didn’t want there to be anything remotely cosy about their conversation. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘What is Emergence?’

‘A commercial initiative of Quartizon, acting in partnership with the Nishizaki Corporation.’

‘But what is it – exactly?’

‘The confidentiality Quartizon guarantees its clients means I can’t be specific.’

‘So much for answering my questions.’

‘I only said I’d try.’ Vardekar’s smile was becoming annoying.

‘Where is Peter Driscoll?’

‘Detained elsewhere, to his regret.’

‘But you represent him?’

‘In a personal rather than a commercial capacity, yes.’

‘What are you – his lawyer?’

‘No. I’m an accountant by profession. Did I tell you my name is Vardekar?’

‘Yes, you did.’ Nick’s impatience was growing.

‘Well, it’s not, actually. It’s Hardekar. Vinod Hardekar.’

Vinod Hardekar. The Indian student from the house in Exeter. Forgotten by his former friends – except one. ‘You’re … Hardekar?’

‘Yes. Why don’t you sit down, Nick? You look as if you’ve had a shock.’

Nick lowered himself slowly on to the couch and stared at Hardekar, not even trying to disguise his astonishment. ‘What the hell is going on here?’

‘Two things I’ve been tasked with keeping apart. Emergence, currently proceeding with well-oiled efficiency. And your search for your natural father, Peter Ellery, now known as Peter Driscoll, chairman and chief executive of Quartizon.’

‘How long have you known he didn’t die in 1977?’