All of this, Kirk had explained, was why she had thrown her support behind Knowles as he campaigned for the nomination, and then for the presidency. Support which was repaid with a promotion to the Deputy Directorship of the CIA when Knowles took office.

But that was then. Three years later and the friendship between Kirk and Knowles was a distant memory. Dempsey had never known what had happened between them, but he knew that Kirk considered her appointment as Director of the ISB less than a year into the president’s first term to be an exile.

Not that this had hindered her performance. Kirk was as dedicated to duty as she had ever been. Still, Dempsey could detect a difference in her demeanour whenever Knowles or his administration were discussed. It was a difference he saw now.

‘Whatever the White House knows about this, I think we have to assume they won’t be helping us with our investigation.’

‘Helping us?’ Dempsey was confused. ‘You want us to take this on?’

‘I want you to make some enquiries, yes.’

‘But what about Chinatown? What about—’

‘I’m keeping Dai on that, with your team in support. I want you on this one. And only you.’

Dempsey took a moment to consider what Kirk was saying. It was unusual. The ISB was the special intelligence division of the United Nations Security Council. If there was one thing it had, it was immense resources. So why a one-man job?

‘Why just me?’

‘Because it’s delicate and I could have this very wrong,’ Kirk replied. ‘In fact, I probably do have it wrong. So the last thing I need is a whole team of agents blowing it out of proportion.’

‘What’s the theory?’

‘It’s not a theory.’

‘What is it anyway?’

This time it was Kirk who paused. Dempsey could see that she was struggling. That she did not want to say the words.

‘It’s . . . it’s something we need looked into. That’s all.’ The confidence had disappeared from Kirk’s voice. ‘Something Victor hinted at a week before he died.’

‘Which was what?’

‘I’ll show you.’

Kirk reached out for the TV remote and the screen came back to life. It was now showing a frozen image of Dale Victor. He was back behind a podium but this time there was no one else around him.

‘One of his press events?’ Dempsey asked.

‘Yes. Given in London seven days ago.’

‘Why was he in London with the primaries coming up?’ Dempsey asked. The thought had not occurred to him until now.

‘Business interests,’ Kirk replied. ‘He claimed to be over there closing them all off before the official race begins next month. To prevent conflicts of interest. He was getting a little ahead of himself. He thought he had as good as won the nomination already.’

‘Hadn’t he?’

‘Probably. But who knows. Anyway, listen to what he says here.’

Dempsey turned back to face the screen as Kirk pressed play, with Victor in mid-answer.