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which could solve a problem of this size.” He shrugged at the man’s enquiring look. “It is not only a question of removing the treasure from its hiding place. There are also many valuable artefacts which will have to be disposed of to rich collectors around the world. I can advise on the likely value and the possible purchasers but in my position I cannot be the man who makes the contacts. Then there is the probability of government - er - let us call it ‘intervention’ to be avoided. It requires your sort of organisation to handle that problem.”
    “ So?” The ginger features twisted. “Just how big is this treasure?”
    “ Nobody knows with any accuracy. I have not yet actually seen the treasure myself and I cannot put a value on it or any part of it. However the latest estimates of scholars who have been researching the subject calculate the market value is likely to be somewhere between one billion and five billion euros.”
    There was another drooling intake of breath from Hebert’s right but he didn’t look at the man.
    “ Five billion?” Montlucon sat back in his chair and the expression on his face was almost laughable as his brain slowly worked out what that sum would actually mean to their organisation. “Did I hear you say five billion?”
    “ That’s right. But it is only a guess. It may be much more.”
    “ And how much of the five billion would you expect to give us?”
    “ You can have it all except for one quarter of the proceeds which I would want my family trust to receive anonymously for my leading you to the treasure and advising you of the way for you to get the most money for disposing of it.”
    “ Three quarters of five billion?”
    “ Of course it may not be worth that much.”
    Montlucon nodded. “It may be only one billion. In that case our share would be at least seven hundred and fifty million.”
    “ I believe so.”
    There was a long pause while the two members of La Force worked out just what that amount of money would mean to their organisation and to them personally.
    At last the ginger-haired man said. “But how do we know what you are telling us is right? How do we know the whole thing isn’t just a great big con?”
    Hebert reached inside his jacket pocket and brought out a folded A4 sheet of paper. He opened it and glanced at it briefly. Then he handed it across the table. “Here is a list of eight people and organisations who can verify each point of what I have told you - except of course the location of the treasure. I expect you to be completely satisfied by their replies to your enquiries within two weeks. However, please withhold my name when your representatives approach them - even though they would not recognise it.”
    “ You say these guys don’t know where the treasure is hidden?”
    “ No. Only I know that.”
    “ How do you know it?”
    There was a long pause while Hebert prepared his story. At last he said, “My great uncle died five years ago. He was a Roman Catholic priest. He was confessor to another priest who had himself had heard the last confession of a woman called Marie Denarnaud. She was the former housekeeper - some say the mistress - of a famous priest called Berenger Sauniere who apparently gave her the secret. She was the one who knew the location of the treasure. My great uncle passed on to me the information which she gave him on her death-bed when he knew he was about to die himself. He believed that such information should not be allowed to die with him.”
    “ He died five years ago?”
    “ It has taken me that long to check out all the details.”
    “ So - where is this treasure?”
    Hebert permitted himself a smile. “I am keeping that information to myself until we have an agreement.”
    There was a long silence while this was digested. After a short while Alain Hebert added, “In case there is any misunderstanding between us I should perhaps mention that my lawyer has a letter informing him that I am meeting you