‘Which doesn’t guarantee it’s not a set-up, does it?’

‘No, Lord Swalcliffe, it doesn’t, but everything does seem to point in the direction of Agent Horatio being who he says he is.’

‘The Germans could just be smarter than your agent, Gilbey.’

Gilbey looked around the table before continuing, hoping for some support. Roland Pearson wore a studied expression of impartiality; Air Vice Marshal Frank Hamilton had an impassive air about him, as did the young wing commander sitting next to him, while Long from the Ministry, who would certainly be his ally in this case but was evidently biding his time, was smiling weakly.

‘Perhaps if I summarise Agent Laertes’ meeting with Horatio? Agent Horatio is a sales representative for a Danish engineering company. He—’

‘For heaven’s sake, Gilbey – a sales rep!’

‘He’s hardly a door-to-door salesman selling vacuum cleaners or encyclopaedias, Lord Swalcliffe. The company he represents manufactures specialist components for the engineering industry. Weston’s original understanding was that they make ball bearings, but according to Agent Laertes, they are far more sophisticated than that. They specialise in manufacturing small parts for engines and are particularly skilled at fabricating components that can withstand very high temperatures. Agent Horatio was on a business trip to Berlin in the first week of August to discuss an order for parts for a factory making tanks. One night his contact took him out for dinner, where they were unexpectedly joined by another guest, who turned out to be an Oberst in the Luftwaffe. You’ll correct me if I’m wrong, Frank, but as I understand it, an Oberst is more or less equivalent to a group captain in the RAF?’

‘That’s right, Tom: he’d be somewhat junior to me but would outrank Tim here.’ The air vice marshal chuckled as he patted the arm of the officer next to him. Gilbey was relieved: the tension in the room appeared to have dropped by as much as one degree.

‘The Oberst was introduced to Horatio as Kurt. I imagine that’s not his real name, but he—’

‘Hang on, Gilbey, hang on – you imagine Kurt is not his real name but somehow you’re sure he’s an Oberst? For heaven’s sake: you’ve seriously been wasting Winston’s valuable time with all these fanciful stories?’ Lord Swalcliffe slammed his pencil onto the table, causing the lead to snap.

‘Edward, perhaps if we let Tom finish his account, then we can draw some conclusions. Wouldn’t that be a more… scientific approach?’