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."Anne laughed—a gentle, warm laugh.It was obvious he did know Lord Lichfield."Do you see much of him now?""Occasionally at dinner parties, but not regularly.Does he photograph you a lot?""No," said Anne, "the cover picture for Vogue is the only occasion I have been shot by him."They chatted on and the thirty-five minutes' journey between Reading and London seemed to pass in a flash for James.As they walked down the platform of Paddington Station together he ventured:"Can I give you a lift home? My car is parked in Craven Street." Anne accepted.It was raining and it did not look as if she would get a taxi easily at that late hour.James drove her home in his Alfa Romeo.He had already decided that he could not hold on to that for much longer with petrol going up and the cash flow going down.He chattered merrily all the way to her destination in a block of flats overlooking the Thames in Cheyne Row, and much to Anne's surprise just dropped her off at the front door and said good night.He did not even ask for her telephone number and he only knew her Christian name.In fact, she did not have any idea what his name was.Pity, she thought, he had been a rather pleasant change from the men who worked on the fringe of the advertising media, who imagined they had an automatic right to a girl's compliance just because she poses in a bra.James knew exactly what he was doing.He always found a girl was more flattered if he called her when she least expected it.His tactics were to leave the impression that she had seen the last of him, especially when the first meeting had gone well.He returned to his home in the King's Road and thought for a while.But unlike Stephen, Adrian and Jean Pierre, with thirteen days to go, he had no ideas for defeating Harvey Metcalfe: he was developing plans for Anne.On waking in the morning, Stephen began to do a little more research.He started with a close study of the way the university was administered.He visited the vice chancellor's office in the Clarendon Building, where he spent some time asking strange questions of the personal secretary, Miss Smallwood.She was most intrigued.He then left for the Office of the University Registrar, where he was equally inquisitive.He ended the day by visiting the Bodleian Library, and copying out some of the University Statutes.Among other outings during the next fourteen days was a trip to the Oxford tailors Shepherd and Woodward, and a full day at the Sheldonian Theatre to watch a batch of students take their B.A.degrees in a brief ceremony.Stephen also studied the layout of the Randolph, the largest hotel in Oxford.This he took considerable time over, so much that the manager became inquisitive, but Stephen left before this turned to suspicion.His final trip was a return journey to the Clarendon to meet the secretary of the University Chest, and to be taken on a guided tour of the building by the porter.Stephen warned him that he anticipated showing an American the building on the day of Encaenia, but remained vague."Well, that won't be easy." began the porter.Stephen carefully and deliberately folded a pound note and passed it to the porter."Though I'm sure we will be able to work something out, sir."In between the trips all over the university city, Stephen did a lot of thinking in his big leather chair and a lot more writing at his desk.By the fourteenth day his plan was perfected and ready for presentation to the other three.He had put the show on the road, as Harvey Metcalfe might have said, and he intended to see it had a long run.Adrian rose early on the morning after the Oxford dinner, and avoided awkward questions from his wife at breakfast about his experience the night before.He travelled to London as quickly as he could get away and on arrival in Harley Street was greeted by his efficient secretary-cum-receptionist, Miss Meikle.Elspeth Meikle was a dedicated, dour Scot who looked upon her work as a vocation.Her devotion to Adrian, not that she ever called him that even in her own mind, was obvious for all to see."I want as few appointments as possible over the next fourteen days, Miss Meikle.""I understand, Dr.Tryner," she said."I have some research to do and do not want to be interrupted when I am alone in my study."Miss Meikle was a little surprised.She had always thought that Dr.Tryner was a good doctor, but had never known him in the past to indulge in research work.She padded off noiselessly in her white-shod feet to let the first of a bunch of admirably healthy ladies in for Dr.Tryner's clinic.Adrian entered his consulting room.He started the morning by making several telephone calls, among them two overseas calls to the Boston Infirmary and several to a leading gastroenterologist for whom he had been a houseman at Cambridge.Then he pressed the buzzer to summon Miss Meikle."Pop round to H.K.Lewis, would you, Miss Meikle, and get two books on my account.I want the latest edition of Polsen and Tattersall's Clinical Toxicology and Harding Rain's book on the bladder and abdomen.""Yes, sir," she said imperturbably, and thought nothing of missing her lunchtime sandwiches to fetch them in time for Adrian's return from his habitual club lunch.They were on his desk when he returned, and he started a careful reading of them.The following day he spent at St.Thomas's Hospital, not taking his morning clinic as usual, but closely watching two of his colleagues at work.His confidence in the plan he was formulating was growing.He returned to Harley Street and wote some notes on the techniques he had observed, as he had done in his student days.He remembered the words Stephen had used:"Think as Harvey Metcalfe would.Think not as a cautious professional man, but as a risk taker, as an entrepreneur."Adrian was getting onto Harvey Metcalfe's wavelength and he would be ready for the American, the Frenchman and the lord when his plan was called for: he looked forward to their next meeting.Jean Pierre returned from Oxford the next day.None of the youthful artists had greatly impressed him, though he felt Anthony Bamber's watercolours showed considerable promise and he made a mental note to keep an eye on his future work.When he arrived in London he started, like Adrian and Stephen, on his research.The tentative idea that had come to him in the Eastgate Hotel was beginning to develop.Through his numerous contacts in the art world he checked all the buying and selling of major Impressionist pictures over the previous twenty years.He made a list of the pictures which were currently thought to be on the market.He then contacted the one person who had it in his power to set Jean Pierre's plan in motion
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