‘Oh, I know Tom well enough for him to know that I wouldn’t bother him without good reason. I wouldn’t worry on that score. But they can’t do anything until Cummings bowls up again, and that’s not likely to be until tomorrow if what you say is correct. Where he is now is anybody’s guess.’

Monty said good-bye outside the police station and Christopher headed for home.

The unmarked car took Gary from the basement garages of MI5 into the centre of London. It dropped him off in Regent’s Park Crescent, just a short walk from Harley Street where he hailed a taxi. It was force of habit. A superstition in a way, but he liked to start his journey from the right place. Asked where he had picked him up, the taxi driver would have said, ‘Harley Street’. It mattered somehow. Tennis players had their little rituals before they played a big match. Gary had his. The attaché case sat underneath his elbow on the back seat. He travelled down Harley Street and Regent Street, across Piccadilly Circus and down Haymarket, turning left at Charing Cross into the Strand. The cabby dropped him off opposite Savoy Court and he crossed the road and walked down the short cul-de-sac that led to the entrance of the hotel.

The lobby was reasonably busy, which made him feel better. Staff behind the polished wooden desk to the right were dealing with enquiries and allocating rooms. There was a steady trickle of visitors to and from the bar on the left. He looked at his watch. Three quarters of an hour early. He crossed the floor and went down the steps into the lounge. He would sit in a corner. Out of harm’s way but where he could watch any comings and goings. It also meant that if Mr Tan were meeting anybody else before him the situation could be used to advantage and any such visitors intercepted as they left. It would be a shame to miss the opportunity.

He took in the four members of MI5 who were scattered about the lounge. One was sitting on his own reading a newspaper. Two others, a man and a woman, were having tea. A fourth was tucking into a large plate of pastries at a low table.

Gary felt nervously to check that the microphone was in the right position, and that the equipment was switched on. He looked around again, and this time located Mr Tan. He was seated halfway down the lounge on the far side, and with him were two men. They were all three crouched forward over the low tea table which was set with cups and saucers. Mr Tan was talking quietly and the other two were listening intently.