The traffic was at a complete standstill now, and it looked like we might be in for a long wait: Manning said it could sometimes take hours to clear. I took out my Players and watched as a mangy dog with great gaps of fur and a missing leg wandered up between the lanes of cars. Despite its limp, it had a strangely proud demeanour - almost as though it knew it would reach the centre of Lagos before us.

‘What else did London say?’ I asked Manning.

‘Not much,’ he replied, somewhat blithely. ‘That Chief’s gone missing. Reading between the lines, there’s a flap on that he may have something to do with the double agent this Russian johnnie has told us about, and you’ve flown the nest to prove them wrong. Am I right?’

‘Close enough,’ I said. ‘Did London mention when Pritchard would be arriving?’

‘No, just to expect him soon. Good chap, Henry. Came out here a few months ago. Thrashed me at golf. Beautiful swing.’

‘What were your instructions?’

‘What? Oh. To pick you up at the airport, then provide you with any assistance you required.’

‘I need to arrange accommodation,’ I said. If they were going to assign me a nanny, I might as well make use of him.

‘Of course. I’d have done it already, only nobody was sure what cover you’d be using.’

‘Robert Kane. Times hack covering the Wilson visit.’

‘Yes - so I gathered from Bernard. Well, we can check you in somewhere now if you’d like. Any preferences?’

‘What’s the best-known hotel?’ I asked, and Manning glanced over at me. Most agents would have wanted somewhere discreet, but I wanted to make my presence felt in the city, fast.

‘The Victoria Palace,’ he said. ‘It’s the closest Lagos gets to the Ritz. Not that it’s particularly close . . .’

I knew the name. Pritchard’s dossier had mentioned it a couple of times, notably because an Ibo had tried to blow it up in advance of a peace conference a few years earlier. That it was enough of a landmark to be a target meant it was precisely the kind of place I was looking for.

‘I’ll drop you there,’ said Manning. ‘If this traffic ever gets going, that is. Oh, and before I forget . . .’ He plunged a hand inside the pocket of his pyjama jacket and fished out a small package, which he passed over to me. ‘You’ll also need these.’

I opened the box and took out a dozen white tablets sandwiched between some cellophane.