‘He was a master surgeon. Cut his teeth, so to speak, and plenty of POW limbs on the Thai–Burma railway in the war.’

Bleulance nodded and raised his eyebrows enough to show vague interest.

‘Did you trust your father?’ Cavalier asked.

Bleulance took a deep breath. He stared at an antique French clock on the table.

‘You know the rules?’ he asked, glancing back. ‘First you must forgive me for thinking you might be here under false pretences …’

‘I seek impressions. No quotes from you, I assure you.’

Bleulance blinked, picked at his food and said, ‘You asked about trust. My father was a brilliant man, a polymath with interests in so many fields. But part of his life was in the shadows.’

‘In intelligence?’

‘For some time, yes.’

‘He worked for the French Intelligence, the DGSE.’

‘You must understand that I was with my mother when my parents separated. As I said, I had a stepfather, an artistic man who painted and wrote music. He had more influence over me.’

‘And the trust?’

‘My father was difficult to become close to. I never knew where he was, what he was thinking. For that reason I could not trust him. I did, however, admire him for what he did against the Nazis.’

‘He double-crossed you and chose your cousin to run the Bleulance Bank, did he not?’

‘I don’t want to discuss that. I left the bank to run my own race.’

Bleulance broke off to help himself to a main course. He chose duck breast and beetroot; Cavalier took gnocchi with pumpkin and spinach. James hovered, filling wineglasses.

‘For the purposes of your magazine article, please note that all the food is from the estate,’ Bleulance said, ‘wonderful produce.’

Cavalier nodded. When they sat down again, he took notes and then tried another tack.

‘Many people have broken away from a parent to show them what they could do,’ Cavalier began. ‘Were you doing that with the third baron?’

‘Let’s just say that I considered my chances better by striking out on my own.’

‘And that has worked so well,’ Cavalier said, opening his hands and looking around at the salubrious pavilion and its artefacts. ‘My research suggests that you are one of the richest men on the planet. Is that true?’

‘Oh, come, come, Doctor. Don’t believe all you read in the papers.’

‘I don’t rely on the papers or any of the media,’ Cavalier said, staring. ‘But I am reliably informed you are worth many hundreds of billions.’

‘All speculation. I don’t even know myself.’

‘I discovered your investment companies have bought into at least twenty of the world’s top twenty-five corporations.’

Bleulance smiled. Underneath the cool French stonewall of an impression, Cavalier detected a vacillation, somewhere between pride and caution.

‘You have a big slice of Conquer, a large share of Shell and pieces of the other three oil sisters.’