‘All the more reason to look lovey-dovey, eh? Now this Danish chap – we’re calling him Agent Horatio, by the way – sells ball bearings. I’m not terribly sure what they do, come to think of it, but evidently, he’s important enough to travel outside Denmark to sell the bloody things. Smile as I talk to you, dear, perhaps link your arm in mine. That’s it. He told me he’d spent the first week of August in Berlin, and while there he’d picked up some intelligence about these long-range rockets the Germans are developing. London are terribly excited, practically wetting themselves. They want to know more about this chap and then ensure we run him as an agent. I’ve told them to calm down. Chap’s a walk-in after all, and I’m most sceptical about people who wander in off the street and offer us intelligence. Having said that, he did come across as credible, and although the fact that he waited the best part of three months to make contact is annoying, it actually rather works in his favour. Apparently he was waiting until he had a business trip to Stockholm, so that makes sense. Anyway, London insists we make contact with this chap. The first thing you need to do is check out his story. Best to start with his visit to Germany in August.’

‘What do you mean?’ she’d asked.

‘Check he actually made it. I’m not certain of the dates, but he did say “Four nights in the Reich is as much as anyone can manage”, so it’s a reasonable supposition that he flew out on Monday the third, returning on the seventh. You’ll find an envelope in your handbag, dear; in it are Horatio’s details. You’ll obviously destroy it once you’ve committed them to memory. And there’s one other thing…’ He had paused and looked around. ‘Assuming Horatio turns out to be who he says he is, London plan to send out an agent. They think running Horatio will be a full-time operation – too much for you to cope with along with your job. Your role will be to look after this agent. Should be rather splendid for you to have some company!’

Now she checked the blue ledger for the names of all passengers on the daily 10.00 Deutsche Lufthansa direct to Berlin. Otto Knudsen’s name wasn’t there on Monday the 3rd or indeed any other day that week. She checked the previous week, but he wasn’t there either. She turned to the green ledger for returning Danish citizens and checked the 18.05 flight from Berlin: no sign of Knudsen. It looked as if his story was about to fall apart. They should have asked her to check him out before sending Agent Laertes over. Reluctantly she called her colleague into the office.