‘They want a bigger ransom!’ bawled Cohen at his secretary. ‘A king’s bloody ransom!’

‘Bigger? There must be a reason. I’m certain, sir, that it must be because your daughter is worth more than the kidnappers had supposed,’ Poindexter answered, ingratiatingly.

‘But why? I don’t even like her!’ exclaimed Cohen, unable to contain himself.

‘Let me make myself quite clear. I mean I like Persil,’ qualified Cohen, registering the shock on the faces of the academics. ‘Of course. Naturally. She is one half of her mother, whose genes I like.’

‘Is she not one half of her father as well?’ asked O’Singh in a bid for clarification.

‘She’s my stepdaughter,’ said Cohen, answering O’Singh. He did a double-take and acknowledged then properly the presence of the two visitors in the room.

‘You know we human beings have 50 percent of our genes in common with yeast?’ claimed O’Singh.

‘Well there you go,’ retorted Cohen. ‘I would say I like my stepdaughter as much as I like yeast.’