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“I have a Mr. Metcalfe with me.”

“Christ, I’m sorry, Stephen. I didn’t…”

“And you can expect him in the next few minutes.”

Stephen looked toward Harvey who nodded his assent.

“You are to release the Van Gogh I purchased this morning to Mr. Metcalfe and he will give you a check for the full amount, 170,000 guineas.”

“Out of disaster, triumph,” said Jean-Pierre quietly.

“I’m very sorry I shall not be the owner of the picture myself, but I have, as the Americans would say, had an offer I can’t refuse. Thank you for the part you played,” said Stephen and put the telephone down.

Harvey was writing out a check to cash for $20,000.

“Thank you, Mr. Drosser. You have made me a happy man.”

“I am not complaining myself,” said Stephen honestly. He escorted Harvey to the door and they shook hands.

“Good-bye, sir.”

“Good day, Mr. Metcalfe.”

Stephen closed the door and tottered to the chair, almost too weak to move.

Robin and James saw Harvey leave the Dorchester. Robin followed him in the direction of the gallery, his hopes rising with each stride. James took the lift to the first floor and nearly ran to Room 120. He banged on the door. Stephen jumped at the noise. He didn’t feel he could face Harvey again. He opened the door.

“James, it’s you. Cancel the room, pay for one night and then join me in the cocktail bar.”

“Why? What for?”

“A bottle of Krug 1964 Privée Cuvée.”

One down and three to go.

Chapter Eleven

JEAN-PIERRE WAS the last to arrive at Lord Brigsley’s King’s Road flat. He felt he had earned the right to make an entrance. Harvey’s checks had been cleared and the Lamanns Gallery account was for the moment $447,560 in credit. The painting was in Harvey’s possession and the heavens had not yet fallen in. Jean-Pierre had cleared more money in two months of crime than he had in ten years of legitimate trading.

The other three greeted him with the acclaim normally reserved for a sporting hero, and a glass of James’s last bottle of Veuve Clicquot 1959.

“We were lucky to pull it off,” said Robin.

“We weren’t lucky,” said Stephen. “We kept our nerve under pressure, and the one thing we’ve learned from the exercise is that Harvey can change the rules in the middle of the game.”

“He almost changed the game, Stephen.”

“Agreed. So we must always remember that we shall fail unless we can be as successful, not once, but four times. We must not underestimate our opponent just because we’ve won the first round.”

“Relax, Professor,” said James. “We can get down to business again after dinner. Anne came in this afternoon especially to make the salmon mousse, and it won’t go down well with Harvey Metcalfe.”

“When am I going to meet this fabulous creature?” asked Jean-Pierre.

“When this is all over and behind us.”

“Don’t marry her, James. She’s only after our money.”

They all laughed. James hoped the day would come when he could tell them she had known all along. He produced the boeuf en croûte and two bottles of Echezeaux 1970. Jean-Pierre sniffed the sauce appreciatively.


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