‘Alberto Otero, the brains of our outfit.’ Otero rose briefly, shaking Harry’s hand with a moist grip. He didn’t smile, studying him expressionlessly.

‘I see you noticed my picture,’ Sandy said. ‘“Ancient Dorsetshire” by Henry de la Beche. Painted in 1830, when people were first learning about dinosaurs.’

‘It is all wrong, of course,’ Otero said severely. ‘The animals are grossly exaggerated.’

‘Yes, Alberto. But imagine what people must have thought when they realized their nice English landscape had once been full of giant reptiles.’ Forsyth smiled and sat down next to de Salas. Sitting facing them, Harry realized all three wore identical narrow moustaches, the badge of the Falange.

Sandy leaned back, folding his arms over his stomach. ‘Now then, Harry, you’ve got some money to invest and we’ve got a project that could do with further capital. Alberto, though, he wants to know a bit more about the funds available.’ He winked. ‘Cautious, these Spaniards. Quite right too, of course.’

‘I’ve a fair bit of money in the bank,’ Harry said. ‘Though I wouldn’t want to put too much in one project.’

De Salas nodded but Otero’s face remained expressionless. ‘Might I ask where this has come from?’ he asked. ‘I do not want to seem impertinent, but we should know.’

‘Certainly. It’s the capital from my parents’ estate. They died when I was a child.’

‘Harry’s an old sobersides,’ Sandy said. ‘Doesn’t spend much.’

‘Where is the money now?’

‘In my bank in England.’ Harry produced the bank book. ‘Have a look, I don’t mind. I thought you might want to see.’

Otero studied the book. ‘What about currency restrictions?’

‘Don’t apply,’ Sandy said. ‘Embassy staff. Isn’t that right, Harry?’

‘I’m allowed to invest in a neutral country.’

De Salas smiled. ‘And you would not mind investing here? I’m thinking of the political situation. We rather disagreed on that topic when last we met.’

‘I support my country against Germany. I’ve no quarrel with Spain. It has to make its own future. As you said.’

‘When there is money to be made, eh, señor?’ Sebastian gave Harry a smile; conspiratorial but slightly contemptuous as well.

‘What if Spain comes into the war?’ Otero asked. ‘If nothing else, that would freeze any British investments here.’

‘They seem pretty confident at the embassy Franco won’t come in,’ Harry said. ‘Confident enough for me to take the risk.’

Otero nodded slowly. ‘How good is your information? Is this the ambassador’s thinking?’

Knowledge like that really would be worth money, Harry knew. ‘I just hear what the other translators say. Of course I’ve no access to any secret material.’ He let a haughty note enter his voice. ‘And I wouldn’t dream of breathing a word of it if I did. I only know what people say generally; the Spanish messenger boys probably know as much.’

Sebastian raised a hand. ‘Of course, Señor Brett. Forgive my curiosity.’

‘Harry’s loyal to the King,’ Sandy said with a smile. Otero looked at him keenly.

‘If we are to tell you about this venture of ours, you would have to keep it entirely confidential.’

‘Of course.’

‘We would not want it repeated anywhere else. Especially not at the embassy. They might be interested, perhaps?’

‘I don’t see why,’ Harry said, looking naive. ‘If it’s just a business venture.’ He put on a worried look. ‘It’s nothing illegal, is it?’

Otero smiled. ‘Far from it. But it is a matter that could excite – considerable interest.’

‘Of course I won’t say anything to anyone.’ He hesitated a moment. ‘I promise.’

‘Not even Barbara,’ Sandy added. ‘Honour bright, eh?’

‘Of course.’

Sebastian de Salas smiled. ‘Sandy has told us of the honour between public-school friends. It is a code, yes?’

‘One Harry would never break,’ Sandy added.

‘A code of honour, like that among soldiers of the legion?’

‘Yes,’ Harry replied. ‘Yes, that’s right.’

Otero studied Harry a moment longer, then turned to Sandy. ‘Very well. But on your responsibility, Forsyth.’

‘I vouch for Harry,’ Sandy said with a smile.

‘How much would you consider investing?’ Otero asked Harry.

‘It depends. It depends what’s on offer.’

There was a tap at the door and Maria brought in a tray. She poured tea and coffee for them. In the silence Harry felt an unexpected clutch of fear. He was conscious his armpits were soggy with sweat. It was hard with three of them all concentrating on him. The secretary left, closing the door quietly.

‘OK.’ Sandy opened a drawer in his desk. Everyone watched as he brought out a glass phial filled with yellow dust. He took a sheet of paper and carefully poured a little out.

‘There. What d’you think that is? Go on, pick it up.’

Harry ran the dust between his fingers. He knew what it was but pretended innocence. ‘It feels oily.’

Otero gave a barking laugh and shook his head. Sandy smiled broadly.

‘It’s gold, Harry. Spanish gold. It came out of a field some way from here. Alberto’s been pottering about that neck of the woods for years, taking samples, and this spring he hit the jackpot. Spain has some small gold deposits but this one’s big. Very big.’

Harry let the grains fall back on the paper. ‘Is this how gold looks when it comes out of the ground?’

Otero rose and went over to the big table. He brought one of the canisters over to the desk and twisted off the top. It was full of a crumbly yellow-orange soil.

‘This is the ore. You apply mercury and acid to separate the gold. Two canisters like this would produce about what’s in that phial; the gold content is very high. Can you imagine how much a whole field of that ore would be worth? Twenty fields?’

Harry poked the crumbly earth gently. This is it, he thought. I’ve bloody done it.

‘These canisters go to the Ministry of Mines for assay.’ Sandy turned to de Salas. ‘That’s where Sebastian works, he’s our contact there.’

De Salas nodded. ‘Spain’s economic policy is based on self-sufficiency, Señor Brett, as you know. Mineral exploitation is a priority. The Ministry of Mines grants licences to private companies to explore sites. Then if workable mineral deposits are found and the government laboratories are happy with the assay, the company receives a licence to develop.’

‘And its shares go up,’ Sandy added.

‘And this is what Nuevas Iniciativas does?’

‘That’s right. We three are the principal shareholders. Sebastian shouldn’t be a member, technically, as he’s a Ministry of Mines official, but no one bothers about that sort of thing here. And he’s got some colleagues to invest.’

‘Are they happy with your ore?’

‘There have been delays,’ de Salas replied. ‘Unfortunately politics are involved. Do you know about the Badajoz fiasco?’

‘I heard something.’

Sandy nodded. ‘Huge gold deposits were reported last year, but it turned out there was nothing there. After the Generalísimo told the country in his Christmas broadcast that Spain would soon have all the gold it needed.’ Sandy smiled sadly. ‘It was embarrassing – like that Austrian scientist Franco funded, who claimed to be able to manufacture petrol from grass. The Generalísimo was so desperate for these things that he became, shall we say, a little credulous. Now he’s gone to the other extreme, become overcautious. There’s a committee that studies all claims of substantial mineral deposits. The people on it are, well, not sympathetic politically to the Ministry of Mines. They see us as a Falange nest.’

‘But if there are genuine resources, surely it’s in everyone’s interest to develop them?’

‘So you’d think, Harry,’ Sandy agreed. ‘So you’d think.’

Otero shrugged. ‘Certain people are dragging things out, ordering further assays, though enough tests have been carried out to satisfy any reasonable customer. Tests on samples taken from the site in front of government inspectors.’