As his career progressed, he was pleased he’d moved on from the regimented life of being told where to go and when to go there. But in recent years he’d had more mixed views: perhaps having your life carefully mapped out weeks in advance was not such a bad thing. Being moved around Lincoln like a piece on a chessboard had its attractions.

Now he felt like a chess piece in Copenhagen.

He was woken at seven thirty by the noise of running water in the kitchen and crockery being moved around. He hauled himself up from the sofa and caught a glimpse of Agent Osric wrapped just in a large towel. Moments later she came into the lounge, still draped in the towel, her hair wet, a lit cigarette sticking out of her mouth and a tray in her hands, which she placed on the small table by his sofa.

‘This coffee isn’t bad; it’s about as good as you’ll get in Denmark these days. Drink it while I get dressed. Then we can talk.’

When she returned, she was dressed but her hair was still damp. She ran her fingers through it as she relaxed in the armchair, her legs casually folded under her. She lit another cigarette, then paused briefly to drink her coffee in one go, all the while watching him and sizing him up in a manner that felt familiar but which he couldn’t quite put his finger on. She didn’t say a word, and when she’d finished her cigarette, she dropped the stub into the remains of her coffee and lit yet another. Only then did she speak.

‘You show me yours and I’ll show you mine.’ This was followed by a quick smile.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Don’t look so shocked. It’s a saying, though maybe it doesn’t have the same meaning in English. It’s a childish way of saying you tell me about yourself and I’ll tell you about myself.’

‘Are we allowed to do that?’

She shifted in the armchair and waved her hand in front of her in a dismissive manner. ‘Look, we’re going to be working very closely together. Do you imagine we’ll be going round Copenhagen with you addressing me as Agent Osric? You don’t think that could sound suspicious?’

‘I suppose you’re right. So what do I call you?’

She unfurled her legs and straightened herself up, leaning closer to him. She examined the end of her half-finished cigarette and placed it on the saucer of her coffee cup. ‘The way I operate is by deciding whether I trust someone or not, and if I do, by being very honest with them. But I set out rules, the code by which we’ll operate. You understand that?’

Prince nodded, though he wasn’t absolutely certain he did.