The reception was in full swing. The rumble of conversation and clinking of glasses coming from the first floor echoed around Knox and Bennett as they exchanged a long, silent look. Knox knew he was about to commit professional suicide in front of the leaders of the global intelligence community. He only hoped he’d do it in such a spectacular fashion that he’d bring Manning down with him. And they both knew that once they were on the grand staircase there’d be no turning back.

Eventually Bennett broke the silence, whispering, ‘After you.’

On the first-floor landing they paused again. A string quartet played in the wraparound gallery above them, and waiters scurried around filling up trays with drinks and ferrying them through the tall doors that led through the glass wall of the ballroom. On the other side of the glass divide was a sea of old men in identical dark suits. Knox couldn’t see Manning or Finney in the crowd and for a moment he wondered if they hadn’t turned up after all. Then a waiter carrying a full tray forced the crowd to part round him and for a brief moment Knox saw Manning’s tall frame, and Finney’s shorter, broader one next to him, in the middle of the room. They were both wearing the same dark suits as everyone else—Manning’s hung off him and Finney looked like he’d been stuffed into his. By chance, Manning glanced past the waiter as the crowd flowed around him and made eye contact with Knox. Confusion flashed across his face as he disappeared again behind a wave of suits.

‘They’re here,’ Knox said to Bennett, and started towards the nearest door.

The sight of Manning where Holland should’ve been fanned the flames of anger that were already burning inside Knox. He kept his eyes fixed on the spot where Manning and Finney had been standing, which meant he didn’t see another waiter walking towards the other side of the door. The waiter was only carrying a couple of empty glasses on his tray, but the sound of them crashing onto the ballroom’s parquet floor as the swinging door knocked the tray out of his hands was enough to draw the attention of most of the people in the room. Knox didn’t apologise for causing the crash. He’d wanted an audience for what was about to happen, and now he had one.

The sea parted once more as Knox and Bennett waded into the crowd, revealing Manning and Finney still standing where they had been a few moments before. Manning still looked baffled.

‘Richard,’ he said, ‘what are you doing here?’

‘Surprised to see me?’ Knox replied.

‘I’m surprised to see you looking like that.’ The bruise across Knox’s cheek looked even worse in the bright light of the ballroom. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked.

‘I could ask you the same question.’