Five minutes later, I was seated at a desk, trying to pretend I was an architect and struggling to make sure I got the ruddy things the right way up. The floor plans of seventy-four floors take a while to wade through, but it was long before I got to the end of them that I realized that if I was going to get into that building undetected, and have any chance of remaining in it undetected, then I was going to have to find some other means than via the ground floor.

From the City Hall, I took another cab, to 355 Park Avenue, the head office of a company called the Intercontinental Plastics Corporation. Intercontinental Plastics Corporation was owned, through a carefully maintained front, by MI5. The company made cabinets for computers, and had offices and factories around the world. Its annual profits paid for nearly half of MI5’s running costs. I asked for, and was taken straight in to see, Ron Hagget, chief of US Operations for MI5.

Hagget granted my request without asking any questions, and I was grateful to him for that; I never liked lying to my superiors.

‘5.00 p.m. tomorrow,’ he said, ‘it’ll be up there.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘How does it feel to be back?’

‘Seems like it’s getting to be a habit.’

‘You’re right, New York is a habit. It’s as addictive as nicotine and ten times as bad for your health. Still – as they say over here – have a nice day, or what’s left of it.’

‘Thank you, sir. And a happy Christmas.’

‘Thank you, Flynn. You too.’

‘I’ll do my best.’

‘And Flynn—’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘I don’t know why you’re over here, and I don’t intend to ask – as you know, I only run this outfit, I don’t ask questions – but just do me one favour? Don’t stir up any flack until after the New Year – I’ve promised my wife a holiday.’

I grinned at him, but then realized he wasn’t smiling. ‘It’s not that kind of a trip,’ I said.

‘That’s what I was told last time. I’m still clearing up the mess, and that was two years ago.’

He was referring to the wrecked car, demolished building and seven dead bodies I’d left behind last time, which he’d had to try and explain away to the authorities. The Americans don’t like the British trampling all over their country, any more than we like them trampling over ours. It’s all right to trample over Russia, or indeed any enemy country, but friendly countries are more sensitive, and none more so than the US of A.