Knox had spent an hour clearing the files that had been piled up for him, and trying to decide if Holland was punishing him with his new assignment or not. Then he’d asked for the report on Laing’s truncated posting in Ottawa. It took him another hour to digest Laing’s debriefing and the subsequent investigation into the Ralliement National honeytrap. Knox concluded that Laing had made a logical call, he’d just bet on the wrong horse. Good agents were driven by one of two things, process or intuition, and the best agents understood how to balance the two. But Knox knew knowledge like that could take a whole career to learn.

Knox reached Laing’s desk and stood next to it, waiting for the younger man to register his presence. He didn’t.

‘Busy, Laing?’ Knox said, eventually.

‘Yes,’ Laing replied, still absorbed by the document in his hands. When, after a moment’s silence, he looked up and realised who had said his name, he added, ‘sir.’

‘Fancy a walk round the garden?’ Knox asked.

The garden was the rose garden in the south-east corner of Hyde Park, a few streets away from Leconfield House. It was a favoured spot for MI5 officers to have delicate conversations they wanted to keep private.

‘Of course, sir,’ Laing replied, quickly squaring away his files and returning them to the clerk, who would ferry them to secure storage.

Five minutes later they were on the other side of the Park Lane underpass. Knox had set a leisurely pace, and could tell Laing was struggling to walk so slowly. He also noticed that the younger officer’s arms didn’t swing as he moved—they were held rigid at his side.

They’d just passed the fountain of Diana, goddess of hunting, in the middle of the garden when Laing turned to Knox and asked why they were there.

‘I’d say I wanted to smell the roses, but we’re a few weeks early,’ Knox replied.

It wasn’t a very good joke, but he expected at least some reaction from Laing, even merely as a professional courtesy. But he just looked at his superior and nodded, as if he’d taken his statement completely literally.

Knox decided to get to the point. ‘Holland thought I might be able to help you with the Kosygin summit.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Laing replied. ‘But I think I have everything under control.’

‘I’m sure you do, but I don’t think it was a suggestion.’

Laing tensed, then gave the slightest nod.

‘You’re more than welcome to review my plans, and the contingencies I’ve put in place with the Met,’ he said. ‘I’m also liaising with Six, and have spoken to White in case Pipistrelle has picked up anything that could impact security.’