Simon picked up his balloon glass and rolled the golden liquid around in it.
“Didn’t you get a receipt or anything?”
“Indeed I did. But this Dutchman swears it isn’t even in his writing.”
“Could someone else have disguised himself as Jonkheer?”
“If you saw him, Mr Templar, you’d know that couldn’t be done, except in a story.”
“How about a black-sheep twin brother?”
“I thought of that, too,” Mr Upwater said dourly. “I’m not a fool, and I’ve read books. He just doesn’t have one. The police vouch for that.”
The Saint sipped his cognac reverently. Everything was getting better and better.
“And you would have vouched for Jonkheer.”
“I never met him before,” Mr Upwater said carefully, “but I’ve known about him for years. Everyone knows him in the trade.”