How terribly clever I’d thought I was being - but Pritchard had seen through my game from the start. He had expected me to run again, which was why he’d given me the deadline to meet him in town. Perhaps he’d had me tailed - in my rush to find Isabelle, I’d neglected to take the usual precautions - or he could simply have made a call to the Palace and discovered I’d checked out. That would have been confirmation enough, because there had been no guarantee he would find transport by nightfall, so it could only have meant a run.

He’d come out to Lagos certain I was the double, and I had confirmed it for him. So he had delivered on his threat, and blown me to the Nigerians. One anonymous call to the local police station would have done the trick. Result: I was in the middle of the jungle, surrounded by soldiers armed to the eye teeth, in the hands of a man with a taste for sentimental songs and a hatred of journalists, spies, the West, and especially, it appeared, me.

All of this shot through my brain as I listened to Alebayo’s crowing little speech. There were a few cracks in his logic, though, and I leapt on them ravenously.

‘With all due respect,’ I said, ‘your accusations don’t make much sense to me, Colonel. If my mission had been to assassinate a couple of Russians, why would I flee to the front? I can think of safer places to hide from the police. And why would I also be checking your cache of arms and encouraging fraternization? My knowledge of espionage is extremely limited, but would any agent really be given so many objectives to complete?’ I was surprised to find myself drifting into the same kind of cod-legalistic language he favoured, but decided it was a decent strategy: he might be more likely to free me if he felt we saw the situation in similar terms.

But he wasn’t impressed. ‘The precise nature of your operation does not concern me,’ he said sharply. ‘There is enough evidence of nefarious activity to condemn you several times over. As well as persuading Captain Alele to show you the weapons on board the craft, you also took photographs. Perhaps the Russians got in your way - or perhaps you decided to kill two birds with one stone.’ He waved the argument away. ‘In any case, you leave me no choice but to hold you here.’

I sensed Isabelle flinch beside me. Had she thought it would be so easy?

‘What purpose would that serve?’ I said, trying not to sound as though I were pleading. ‘My editor will soon wonder where I’ve got to, and then he’ll be in touch with the High Commission, and then you’ll have to release me - and I’ll have a very good story to publish.’