"That piece of knowledge, may I suggest," said Munro, "places you in a very strong position."

"Possibly," said Danny, "but when you get into amounts of this size-and on a quick calculation the collection must be worth around fifty million dollars-there are very few people on earth, and I suspect in this case only two, who could even consider joining in the bidding, so I can't afford to overplay my hand."

"I'm lost," said Munro.

"Let's hope I'm not once the game of poker begins, because I suspect that if the next person to knock on that door isn't the waiter wanting to set up breakfast, it will be Mr. Gene Hunsacker hoping to buy a stamp collection he's been after for the past fifteen years. So I'd better take a shower and get dressed. I wouldn't want him to think I've been up all night trying to work out how much I ought to be asking for."

***

"Mr. Galbraith, please.

"Who shall I say is calling?"

"Hugo Moncrieff."

"I'll put you straight through, sir."

"How did you get on in Geneva?" were Galbraith's first words.

"We left empty-handed."

"What? How can that be possible? You had every document you needed to validate your claim, including your father's will."

"De Coubertin said the will was a fake, and virtually threw us out of his office."

"But I don't understand," said Galbraith, sounding genuinely surprised. "I had it examined by the leading authority in the field, and it passed every known test."

"Well, de Coubertin clearly doesn't agree with your leading authority, so I'm phoning to ask what our next move should be."

"I'll call de Coubertin immediately, and advise him to expect service of a writ both in London and Geneva. That will make him think twice about doing business with anyone else until the authenticity of the will has been resolved in the courts."

"Perhaps the time has come for us to set in motion the other matter we discussed before I flew to Geneva."

"All I'll need if I'm to do that," said Galbraith, "is your nephew's flight number."

***

"You were right," said Munro when Danny emerged from the bathroom twenty minutes later.

"About what?" asked Danny.

"The next person to knock on that door was the waiter," Munro added as Danny took his place at the breakfast table. "A bright young man who was happy to give me a great deal of information."

"Then he can't have been Swiss," said Danny as he unfolded his napkin.

"It appears," continued Munro, "that Mr. Hunsacker booked into the hotel two days ago. The management sent a limousine to the airport to pick him up from his private jet. The young man was also able to tell me, in return for ten Swiss francs, that his hotel booking is open-ended."

"A sound investment," said Danny.

"Even more interesting is the fact that the same limousine drove Hunsacker to the Banque de Coubertin yesterday morning, where he had a forty-minute meeting with the chairman."

"To view the collection, no doubt," suggested Danny.

"No," said Munro. "De Coubertin would never allow anyone near that room without your authority. That would break every tenet of the bank's policy. In any case, it wouldn't have been necessary."

"Why not?" asked Danny.

"Surely you remember that when your grandfather put his entire collection on display at the Smithsonian Institution in Washington to celebrate his eightieth birthday, one of the first people to walk through the doors on the opening morning was Mr. Hunsacker."

"What else did the waiter tell you?" asked Danny without missing a beat.

"Mr. Hunsacker is at this moment having breakfast in his room on the floor above us, presumably waiting for you to knock on his door."

"Then he's going to have a long wait," said Danny, "because I don't intend to be the first to blink."

"Pity," said Munro, "I'd been looking forward to the encounter. I once had the privilege of attending a negotiation in which your grandfather was involved. By the end of the meeting, I left feeling battered and bruised-and I was on his side." Danny laughed.

There was a knock on the door.

"Sooner than I thought," said Danny.

"It might be your uncle Hugo brandishing another writ," suggested Munro.

"Or just the waiter coming to take away the breakfast things. Either way, I'll need a moment to clear up these papers. Can't have Hunsacker thinking I don't know what the collection is worth." Danny knelt down on the floor and Munro joined him as they began gathering up reams of scattered papers.

There was another knock on the door, this time a little louder. Danny disappeared into the bathroom with all the papers, while Munro went across to open the door.

"Good morning, Mr. Hunsacker, how nice to see you again. We met in Washington," he added, offering his hand, but the Texan barged past him, clearly looking for Danny. The bathroom door opened a moment later, and Danny reappeared wearing a hotel dressing gown. He yawned and stretched his arms.

"What a surprise, Mr. Hunsacker," he said. "To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?"

"Surprise be damned, said Hunsacker. You saw me at breakfast yesterday. I'm pretty hard to miss." "And you can cut out the yawning act, I know you've already had breakfast," he said, glancing at a half-eaten piece of toast.

"At a cost of ten Swiss francs, no doubt," said Danny with a grin. "But do tell me what brings you to Geneva," he added as he sank back in the only comfortable chair in the room.

"You know damn well why I'm in Geneva," said Hunsacker, lighting his cigar.

"This is a non-smoking floor," Danny reminded him.

"Crap," said Hunsacker, flicking ash onto the carpet. "So how much do you want?"

"For what, Mr. Hunsacker?"

"Don't play games with me, Nick. How much do you want?"

"I confess I was discussing that very subject with my legal adviser only moments before you knocked on the door, and he wisely recommended that I should wait a little longer before I commit myself."

"Why wait? You don't have any interest in stamps."

"True," said Danny, "but perhaps there are others who do."

"Like who?"

"Mr. Watanabe, for example," suggested Danny.

"You're bluffing."

"That's what he said about you."

"You've already been in touch with Watanabe?"

"Not yet," admitted Danny, "but I'm expecting him to call any minute."

"Name your price."

"Sixty-five million dollars," said Danny.

"You're crazy. That's double what it's worth. And you do realize that I'm the only person on earth who can afford to buy the collection. It would only take you one phone call to discover that Watanabe's not in my league."

"Then I shall have to split the collection up," said Danny. "After all, Mr. Blundell assured me that Sotheby's could guarantee me a large income for the rest of my life, without ever having to flood the market. That would give both you and Mr. Watanabe the chance to cherry-pick any particular items you are keen to add to your collection."