Jenny laid her cutlery neatly to one side, pushed her plate a fraction further away and gave Luke her full attention. ‘Human intelligence,’ she reminded him, ‘is the bedrock of what you do at SIS, you know that, Luke. There is only so much anyone can do in cyberspace. At the end of the day you have to get close with the enemy, up close and personal. Case officers are like the infantry of espionage. There really is no substitute for—’ She stopped abruptly as Luke held up his index finger, his eyes on the door of the café.

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ he said quietly, ‘and don’t turn around, but I think the guy who’s just walked in is the lawyer who was sitting in Kadunov’s office.’

He watched as Jenny took out her phone. For a moment he thought she was taking a selfie as she held it casually in front of her face. Then he noticed she was subtly angling it so she could see exactly what was going on behind her. Good skills, he thought. I must remember that trick.

‘You’re right,’ she said, in a low whisper, ‘it is the lawyer. Janulis. He’s coming over now.’

Luke looked up and feigned surprise as Darius Janulis approached their table with a smile. ‘May I please join you?’ he asked, helping himself to a chair before waiting for an answer. Already Luke suspected Janulis’s being there was no coincidence.

‘Please do,’ Luke replied. ‘I guess this is your local?’

The ‘legals officer’ for Matulis ChemExport didn’t answer straight away. He signalled to the waitress, who broke off from texting on her phone to give him a radiant smile, recognizing him immediately. They spoke briefly in Lithuanian, and then he turned to face them.

‘This,’ he said, gesturing expansively towards the street behind him, ‘this is Kirtimai district. Of all the beautiful places you could have come to in my country, you choose this place for lunch? It is an industrial zone, my friend. It is … how you say it? … a shit hole. Yes. We only have two cafés in this street. One is closed, this is the other.’ He looked around despairingly at the decrepit décor, the faded and unframed posters of Swiss mountains, and an ageing photo of the Russian tennis star Maria Sharapova.

‘Still, here we are,’ Luke replied pleasantly. ‘Can we get you something to drink?’

The Lithuanian ignored the offer. Instead he sat down and lowered his voice, looking quickly over his shoulder and adopting a conspiratorial tone. ‘That meeting did not go so well for you back there in the office, did it?’