One man, one time, one life, one night he had a vision,
Two lanes of blacktop disappear into the night,
Three calls were made to different numbers in four cities,
Five minutes later the deal was falling into place,
Numbers, sorting out the numbers.

Fish - Numbers

Friday lunchtime and Cloisters was comfortably busy. Busy enough. Peter would probably have liked a few more people, easier to hide in a crowd, but this would do. Suits from the nearby banks enjoying their beer, relaxing before the weekend. According to his research, Elizabeth Jenner was just the person he needed to keep La Galleria from going under, sending a small but valuable collection of early Rennaisance works out of the public eye and into the vaults of private collectors. Her history of generous donations to galleries around the country, her recent inheritance of a large sum of money and her apparent blind spot for tall, smart, gentlemen. And here she was. Bang on time.

Elizabeth looked around the bar, quickly spotting Peter at a table in the middle of the room. As she walked across, he rose, pulled out a chair for her, waited until she was seated before he returned to his own. A gin and tonic was waiting for her on the table. She took a sip, smiled nervously, drew an envelope from her purse.

"A pleasure to meet you, Mister Van Hoff." She flicked a stray strand of her long, red hair away from her nose. "I understand you have a gallery that needs saving."

Peter flashed a smile, "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Ms. Jenner." His voice was deep and cultured not at all like his normal slightly southern drawl. "But the gallery can wait a few minutes while we order lunch." Picking up his menu Peter surreptitiously watched Elizabeth for clues on how he should proceed.

"Good idea.  It's been a long morning."  She smiled, a little forced smile.  "It's been a long couple of weeks."

Elizabeth's eyes flicked over the menu, her lips mouthing "no", "no", "maybe", "no", "yep."  She placed it carefully in front of her, setting it in line with the table edge.  Seeing her lowering the menu, one of the hovering waiters strode over to their table.

"May I take your order madam?  Sir?"

"I'll take the chicken salad, please, Chris.  Just a small portion."

Peter waited for Elizabeth to finish placing her order then said, "I'll have the grilled chicken breast with a salad on the side." What he really wanted was a steak but Peter Van Hoff was a bit of a health nut so he stuck with the chicken. When the job was over he would find some out of the way restaurant and order the biggest steak they had. Until then he would stick with fish and chicken, at least in public.

"Would you like a glass of wine with lunch, Ms. Jenner?" He asked his companion.

"Thankyou, no."  But she'd paused just that bit too long.  Now he came to study her, she looked tired.  She was hiding it well, but he knew what he was looking for.  She gripped things just a bit too tightly, her knucles whitening around the glass, the menu.  When her mobile phone rang, a harsh burst of white noise, he thought she was going to jump out of her skin.  "Sorry.  I've got to take this."

"Icarus, Hi."  Peter couldn't make out the other side of the conversation.  "No.  No, I haven't forgotten.  Four PM this afternoon."  Pause.  "No, I'm not far."  Another pause.  "NO!  No.  I'll see you there."  She snapped the phone closed, removed the battery, dropped the two pieces into her bag.  "Sorry.  Actually, I think I will have that glass of wine."

Peter nodded and added two glasses of wine to the order. With a compassionate smile he said to the woman across from him, "Look, the gallery can wait a day or two. I couldn't help overhear you have another appointment. Why don't we just enjoy lunch and we can talk business another day."

"Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but there's a good chance I'll be out of reach for a few weeks if I don't to this today, Mister Van Hoff."  She gave him what she hoped was a bright smile.  "So let's get this done.  On past experience we should have enough time to talk business while they're off catching the lettuce in the kitchen."    She produced a filofax from her bag, snapped it open at a page covered with indecipherable scribbles, sat forward with pen poised.  "Convince me, Mister Van Hoff.  Convince me that I should save your gallery."

Peter sobered. "At this point I'm not sure it can be saved, Ms. Jenner. When I took over a couple of weeks ago I had no idea how bad things were. The gallery's previous curator let things go far longer than he should have. The rent alone is behind enough the landlord is threatening to evict us." Peter went on to tell Elizabeth all the woes the gallery suffered under its previous curator.

"Bottom line is, if we can't come up with some cash soon the gallery is going to go under and the art sold to private collectors. It breaks my heart to think of some of those pieces winding up in a vault somewhere instead of on display where everyone can be enriched." Peter shook his head as if the thought hurt then sat back to see if Elizabeth was going to fall for the bait.

Elizabeth smiled.  This time the smile seemed genuine, kind.  "Some people aren't fit to deal with art.  Should never be allowed near it.  Simple rent should never be an issue when it comes to art.  Such treasures need homes.  I feel the landlords should be paying for the privilege of having these pieces in their buildings."  She took a sip of her drink, swirled the slice of lemon among the ice cubes.  For several long seconds, she said nothing, staring at Peter.  Then she flicked to the back of her filofax, drew out her chequebook.  "Give me a number, Mister Van Hoff.  Give me a number and I will make your problems go away."

"Please, call me Peter. I'm so happy to find someone who thinks like I do." Peter smiled, mentally patting himself on the back. There was only one small detail left, how much she should write the check out for. Doing a few quick calculations Peter gave her a number. "But anything you can do would be much appreciated." He finished.

"That's an awful lot of saving, Peter."  She wrote out a cheque, signed it, handed it over.  "This should give you a little breathing room.  Keep you afloat for a little while."

Peter glanced at the check then smiled at Elizabeth, "You are a very generous woman, Ms. Jenner. I can't tell you how much this means to me."

The waiter brought their meal across, their drinks.

Peter admired the woman across from him. He would need to keep up his ruse for at least a few more days until the check cleared and Elizabeth was an attractive woman. He waited until their food was on the table and the waiter had left before speaking again. "Perhaps you would allow me to take you to dinner, as thanks for your support."

"That won't be possible, Peter.  I have a previous engagement tonight."  She pulled a small piece of card out from her filofax.  "If you're not busy, you should do this tonight.  They're friends of my brother, I think.  New to the gig.  If you've not been on one of these tours yet, they're usually entertaining."  She flicked back and forward through the diary pages.  "I'm free tomorrow, though."

"Tomorrow night it is and I would love to take one of those tours." Peter's reply was more enthusiastic than he felt. The last thing he wanted to do was take a boring tour but it was a small sacrifice to keep his mark happy.

"Wonderful.  I'll meet you at Atrium at eight tomorrow night."  A car horn sounded outside the bar, loud and harsh.  Elizabeth's face fell.  "Bastard.  He sent the car anyway."  She necked her glass of wine, took a last bite of salad and shoved her filofax back into her bag.  "I have to go.  You finish your lunch, enjoy your afternoon and say Hi to the guys doing the Pepper & Ghost tour."  She leaned forward, kissed him briefly on the cheek.  "I'll see you tomorrow night." and she ran for the door.

"Ms. Jenner, wait." Peter said catching her arm. "Is everything ok?"

Peter snatched his hand back sharply as something akin to an electric shock leapt from Elizabeth's arm and into his.  His fingers felt numb, tingly.  Elizabeth seemed not to have noticed.  On her arm he could make out a delicate pattern of light just under her skin, fading as he watched.  It was gone in less than a second.

"My mother died last week, Mister Van Hoff.  My brother has just returned from the United States.  God only knows how he managed to get there.  He seems to think he can just take control when he likes.  Now I really must go.  I might not have wanted the car but it's here and it saves me walking to the funeral.  See you tomorrow."

"My condolences for your loss." Peter felt a twinge of guilt at having taken Elizabeth's money at such a time. He was slipping up, his research into his targets was usually better than that. "If there is anything I can do please don't hesitate to call. Until tomorrow then."

"I've got your number, Peter."  She waved from the door.  "Tomorrow night!"  And she climbed into the back of the car.  In the darkness of the car, before the door closed, Peter could swear he saw her skin glowing.  The door closed, the car pulled off in the direction of the Lothian Road and was gone.

What the Hell was going on? That was the weirdest damn shit he had ever seen. People with glowing skin? He needed a real vacation. One in which he was just there to relax and not make a buck. He was still thinking about it when he went back to his lunch.