His companion laughed uproariously. Lisa laughed too, but I felt her eyes on me, checking me over like a mechanic appraising a working part under particular pressure. I felt humiliated. I was not used to being threatened by anyone, and righteous indignation swelled up in my chest. Then, quite suddenly, I realized I had no protection. It was not that he was stronger than me – I was close enough to my schooldays to recognize the tactics of the playground bully even through the jewellery and paunch. It was that I had cut myself off from my usual recourse to higher authority. The freedom from threat that every law-abiding citizen takes as his due was no longer due to me. I had contracted with this man by a different set of rules, a system of which I had no knowledge, a culture where the customs and language were mysteries to me, and the slightest faux pas could be lethal. I understood now why he had insisted on meeting us. It was not simply to deliver this stark warning, but to make us grip the concrete fact of what we had done. Francis had convinced me that illegal in this case did not mean immoral – that if no one could tell the difference between the picture we had created and the original it had replaced, the fault lay not with us but with a hypocritical society that claimed to value art but in truth valued the wealth art objects conferred. In the dingy pocket of the club, this fine intellectual distinction melted away, and I saw only that I was bound for life to the whims of the violent man at my side. Francis had presented the deal to me as freedom from the bonds of law, and of social expectation, but I felt now as if I had substituted one yoke for another. This was my first taste of the creeping vulnerability which was to inform the rest of my life, but I brushed it away as a pang of conscience, like the man who mistakes the first headaches of a brain tumour for over-tiredness.

We took a cab from the club as soon as was deemed polite, and arrived back at the hotel at about twelve-thirty. Francis seemed genuinely to have enjoyed talking to the man Lisa had introduced as Ray, and the two swapped cards and shook hands before we left. John kissed Jessica’s hand, and said to her fondly that he hoped his own daughter would grow up to be like her. The compliment raised one of her rare grins, and she kissed him on the cheek. Lisa decided to stay on, and we left her talking earnestly to our buyer, who evidently did not extend to her the disdain with which he regarded the rest of us. The others had not shared my unpleasant experience, and I had already decided not to tell them – they did not feel my need to escape, they desired only to be alone to revel in our triumph. I took pleasure in the way we must have looked to the concierge working the midnight shift, young and drunk, black and white, rich and free as our smart heels tapped on the marble floor of the foyer. As soon as we were inside I began to feel invincible again, the air-conditioned ambience of the hotel washed the fear and sweat from my skin. We picked up our keys, and ordered champagne at reception. The whole place was geared to my needs, and the atmosphere of service restored my self-confidence. We took the lift to the first floor. Fashion TV was playing on a large flat screen console by the brass panel of buttons. This season would be our season.