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‘I’ve got some interesting news, very, very interesting, and I need your help on it. Immediately.’
    ‘Yes?’ Mark says, smooth as ever, his eyebrows raised. I get the feeling he knows exactly how to handle Dubrovski, and how to play his role of courtier in the presence of the all-powerful king.
    Dubrovski sits down in one of the pale armchairs and immediately we sink back into our own. It really is like being in the presence of royalty. Stand when they do, sit when they do, wait to be spoken to. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with all this subservience. What, apart from money, gives him the right, after all?
    He says in that gravelly tone, ‘I’ve heard of a very exciting find. My people were approached by a representative of a monastery in Croatia. They claim to have discovered a completely unknown Fra Angelico in their possession. It’s unbelievable, of course, and yet they insist that it is completely genuine. They’re prepared to sell it me without taking it to the open market.’
    Mark puts his head on one side as if considering and says gravely, ‘That is a little suspicious, if you don’t mind my saying. And a previously unknown Fra Angelico is practically impossible. Since the missing panels of the San Marco chancel piece were located a few years ago, I believe everything is accounted for. What is it they claim to have?’
    ‘It’s the central panel of an altarpiece,’ Dubrovski says impatiently. He’s leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, staring intently at Mark. ‘And let’s say it is what they claim – it’s an amazing opportunity. They want a fortune for it, of course, but only what I imagine they could hope to get on the world market.’
    A look of uncertainty flits over Mark’s face, but only for a second. I don’t think Dubrovski has even noticed it. The Russian goes on without pausing.
    ‘So we will go together and assess this painting, okay? I want you to see it right away.’
    Mark is immediately the consummate art expert. ‘Of course, Andrei. When shall we leave?’
    ‘We’ll go tomorrow first thing, stay overnight at the monastery, then return.’ His gaze slides to me for a second. ‘You come too.’ Then he’s focused on Mark again. ‘That’s my plan.’
    ‘Excellent,’ Mark replies. ‘I’m looking forward to it immensely. If what they claim is true, it’s extremely exciting.’
    I stare at him. A trip to Croatia? This is a surprise, to put it mildly. Mark avoids my gaze for the moment.
    Dubrovski’s mobile phone rings again. He picks it up, looks at it and immediately rises to his feet, snapping something in Russian. He waves his hand at us and we’re dismissed.
    I follow Mark as he stands up and walks quietly out of the room, leaving Dubrovski to his telephone call. The butler is waiting for us in the hall and immediately steps forward, speaking English this time.
    ‘Follow me, I will show you to your rooms.’
    ‘How was that? What you expected?’ Mark says under his breath as we’re led back to the hall and up the curving staircase to the first floor.
    ‘I don’t know. Sort of.’ I can’t really explain how pale and unformed my imagined Dubrovski is next to the pulsating strength of the reality. But all that rippling power, that extraordinary focus, is compelling but not endearing. ‘I certainly wasn’t expecting an unscheduled trip to Croatia!’
    Mark smiles. ‘That’s what it’s like around Andrei; you never know what’s going to happen. Once we’re settled in our rooms, I want you to fire up your laptop and prepare me a full report on Fra Angelico – I’ll need my memory refreshing before tomorrow. Goodness knows what we’re going to find when we get there. He badly wants it to be genuine but it will be my neck if he buys it and then it’s revealed to be a fake.’
    I can’t believe that no sooner have we got here, than we’re leaving again. Croatia? It doesn’t sound quite as glamorous as the South of France. And yet... my