She had the distinct impression he was just playing dumb. For one thing, y’all, he wasn’t a good old boy. Tyrone McCutcheon, she knew from his bio in her briefing set, had been born and raised in Alaska. He didn’t pick up his Southern drawl in Juneau. All he was missing was a pair of shit-kickers, a Stetson and a belt buckle the size of a hub cap to complete the impression that he was a down-and-out bull rider whose eight seconds of fame had come and gone.

‘You can make a sales pitch tomorrow,’ said Caitlin, beginning to enjoy herself in the role of hard-assed Colonel Murdoch. ‘But only after I’ve received a guarantee from you that the imposition of unreasonable restrictions on Federal Center personnel will end. It is ridiculous that these people have to drive thirty or forty miles out of their way just to get to the goddamn airport.’

Having got nowhere with his naughty schoolboy routine, the Governor’s right-hand man opted for remorse and sincerity. Or at least a reasonable imitation.

‘Okay, okay, I get it,’ he replied. ‘You had to take the detour to get here today. Okay. I apologise for that. And I tell you what, as soon as I’m done here I will personally call the relevant people and make it right by you. My promise.’

Colonel Murdoch cocked one eyebrow at him. ‘I’d have thought you were the relevant people, but I’ll take you on trust. For now.’

McCutcheon nodded slowly, as if he’d just been dealt a hand of cards he didn’t much like, but knew he could play.

‘Well, that wasn’t at all uncomfortable,’ rumbled Musso, feeling like a third wheel.

Caitlin softened her features and allowed some of the tension to run out of her posture. She had made her point.

‘Oh, Mr McCutcheon is a big boy, General. I’m sure a bit of rough play won’t put him off his game.’ She favoured McCutcheon with a smile of such beatific innocence that after the performance of the previous few minutes he could have doubted her sanity.

‘Why don’t you call me Ty,’ he suggested. ‘And you, Colonel, were you born with that rank?’ He managed to inflect his voice with an acknowledgment that he was pushing the boundaries, but he was still playing.

‘I’m sometimes known as Kate,’ she conceded. ‘When I’m off duty, and around friends like General Musso here.’

‘Welcome to Texas then, Kate.’

‘Thank you, Ty, it’s nice to be here,’ she replied, finally giving him something.

Musso blew out his cheeks. ‘Lucky thing we make everyone check their personal weapons at the front desk,’ he said. ‘Now, Mr McCutcheon . . .’

‘You too, General,’ he said, teasing. ‘We’re all new best friends now. How about you call me Ty, and I freshen up these drinks?’