‘It matters, Mr Moorcock. You think a hotel like ours is an ocean of riches? Well, it isn’t. The riches it takes to keep our ship afloat are counterweighed almost exactly by the riches we make. Were the King to abdicate and his followers abandon us . . . I don’t need to remind you how the shock waves of that might be felt. It takes a thousand people and more to keep our hotel afloat. The good King is our reputation, Mr Moorcock. When our reputation suffers, so too does our profit. And if our profits suffer, the members of the board grow agitated. A hotel like ours is a luxury for them, where their money might better be invested in iron and steel – armaments, even, if what is happening in Spain is any indication of our future.’ He paused, trembling. ‘If you know anything, Mr Moorcock, I implore you to tell. I mustn’t let my people down. I cannot send a hundred chambermaids back into poverty. A hundred porters, two hundred kitchen staff and waiters. They are the life’s blood of the Buckingham, but they are dependent on . . . our reputation. If our reputation falters, so too do a thousand lives and all the lives that depend on them.’

‘Your gift, Maynard. Must I ask you a second time?’

Maynard reached into his evening suit and produced an envelope, sealed with the stamp of his private office.

‘A little weighty today, Mr Charles. Am I to assume this is a bountiful month?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Do you care to elaborate?’

‘I do not. You have everything you need, right there in your hands.’

Mr Moorcock smirked. ‘All of it verifiable, of course.’

‘I trust all of my sources.’

‘Then we won’t have a problem.’

Maynard stiffened. ‘There’s no need to belittle me, Mr Moorcock. I know how this works. I’ve been dealing with men like you almost all of my life. I know you, sir.’ He paused. Then, he dared to venture, ‘You said this was an exchange of gifts?’

‘Ah, yes,’ replied Mr Moorcock. By now he was on his feet, replacing the Bollman trilby on his head. ‘My gift is this, Mr Charles: your secret kept, for your continuing co-operation.’

Maynard Charles quaked in his seat.

‘We’ll be checking the veracity of these claims, of course, just as we check the veracity of everything you acquire for us. You do know what would happen were we to believe you were lying to us, don’t you, Maynard?’

Maynard uttered, ‘Yes, Mr Moorcock. We’ve had the conversation often enough.’

‘Good. Because, you know, I could have no greater pleasure than revealing what really happens behind the doors of your beloved Park Suite. All I’m really waiting for is the appropriate moment. But you keep on doing as you’re told and your secret’s safe with us.’