“Yes. He was advising on the laying of broadband cable. With any major infrastructure project, especially overseas, there are security issues, hence some degree of sensitivity around his role.”

“Is this sensitivity something that could impede our investigation?”

“There’s no reason it would.”

“Has Mr. Bannatyne ever been in any other kind of trouble that might be relevant?”

This was the question Taylor had been dreading.

“No,” she said, then felt her response had been too quick.

“Not that you’re aware of.”

“No.”

“How long have you worked with him?”

“On and off for several years.”

“My team needs to speak to his former colleagues. We also require any computers and devices he had access to.”

Rehman was pushing her luck, and she knew it. She was feeling out the limits, shaking Taylor to see what came out.

“For obvious reasons, that’s going to have to be dealt with by SO15,” Taylor said, and caught an immediate flicker of irritation. Special Operations 15 were the police’s specialist counterterrorism unit and so constituted a department considered more appropriate for MI6-related investigations. They were indoctrinated, security cleared, which meant they knew what not to ask and what not to pass on. The unit was regarded by the intelligence service as a little bit more sympathetic to the complexities of their work, which was why Rehman sighed. When previous MI6 employees had died in suspicious circumstances, it was SO15 who investigated. But there was a difference between dead staff and a missing kid.

“I would regard that as obstructive.”

“The precedent’s well established. I’m happy for SO15 officers to interview any government employees in the presence of their line managers and legal representatives. They would then produce anonymized notes, drawn up after the interview.”

“Petra Wade is not a terrorist. She doesn’t need counterterrorism.”

“It’s worked before.”

“For who?”

Rehman burned with an authority bestowed on her by civilian tragedy. By the supreme demand of justice. Around the same age as me, Taylor thought, with a similar level of seniority. She tried to imagine that career: enforcing the law. It would have its own moral compromises, of course, but also closing scenes in bright courtrooms, with fellow citizens affirming your judgment.

“I’ve had homicide detectives vetted and cleared to question members of the intelligence service in previous investigations,” Rehman pressed.

“It would take time and is not the normal procedure adopted. This touches on national security.” Taylor heard the round, simplistic sound of the phrase, its superior finality, and hated herself. The MI6 lawyer leaned in.

“We’re not so much concerned about your end as the potential for press involvement. There will be a need for watertight security surrounding the whole thing.”

“In my experience, the press tends to be concerned that killers get justice.”

“We don’t know that anyone’s been killed, do we?” he said.

“Not at this stage.”

“Right, so let’s proceed carefully.”