It was predictable that Gareth would hear from Timber Wolf about the meeting but Charles hadn’t anticipated it would be so soon. He should have told Gareth himself immediately, he now realised, rather than leaving it until the following day, when he had intended to confront him with his dishonesty. It was partly because he hadn’t decided precisely what he would say and do about that, wanting to discuss it with his head of security first, that he hadn’t anticipated that Gareth and Timber Wolf would be in touch so quickly, there being no obvious need. Lacking a planned response, he fell back on a mixture of truth and lie. ‘I went to see Robin Woodstock to tell him about the payments and sound him out unofficially on the chances of clearance. He reckoned there wasn’t a cat in hell’s chance we’d get clearance to run a paid agent in the EU Commission at the present time. Whether we see Timber Wolf as an agent or not, his accepting money implies he sees himself as one and Robin had no doubt that the rest of the world would too if it came to light. He wanted the case closed immediately and forbade further contact. I persuaded him to let me see Timber Wolf for one meeting in order to assess his veracity and to gauge how he sees what he’s doing. I have to report back tomorrow morning.’

‘And your verdict?’

Sonia appeared briefly in the open doorway, saw who was there and disappeared. Gareth had his back to her.

‘It’s clear to me he sees himself as a paid agent,’ said Charles. ‘What that says about his motivation, I’m not sure, but it must be part of it. It was clear too that he sees himself not only as your agent – though you clearly have a strong personal relationship and he’s obviously fond of you – but as our agent, an agent of SIS. He had no qualms about taking money from me, nor who I was nor what I represent. He sees himself as in a relationship with us, SIS as an institution, as well as with one – now two – individuals in it.’ He paused. Gareth did not react at the mention of money but continued to gaze steadily, his hands resting on the arms of the chair, his legs crossed. The only very slight movement was a vibration in the polished toecap of his crossed leg. ‘His trickers shoes, Charles couldn’t help recalling. As for what he reports, it appears to me to be genuine – so far as it goes. He seems to have genuine access. But he was reluctant to name his sources. I had to push him.’

‘So I haven’t made it all up? You conclude I’m not a fabricator after all?’

‘Perhaps an unconscious embroiderer on occasion, overwriting, putting words into his mouth.’