‘You ignore orders. You’re unreliable. And now you’re my problem.’

‘I’m doing what I have to to get answers.’ He gestured at the papers, making it clear that they didn’t hold any.

‘From your perspective, perhaps. But let me give you another one. The director general is in a coma, two men have been found dead, and the man who connects them all ran off at the first opportunity.’

‘You and Manning put me in the middle of this.’

‘Where we could keep tabs on you.’

Knox’s jaw hardened. He wondered exactly what ‘keeping tabs’ meant. Did Peterson’s interest stretch to scrutinising his service record?

‘I don’t like what you’re implying,’ he said.

‘Implying suggests I’m saying something open to interpretation. You’re still as much a suspect as anyone else. More as far as I’m concerned. And fleeing the scene hardly does you any favours.’

‘I was doing my job.’

‘Your job is to find out who killed Bianchi and Moretti. Not to go showing classified evidence to old Nazis.’

The image of Kaspar, defeated, hobbling across Sheep’s Green, rushed back into Knox’s mind.

‘He’s not a Nazi,’ he said.

‘It’s amazing how many of them weren’t after they lost the war.’

‘He told me he wasn’t,’ Knox countered. ‘And I haven’t seen anything that proves he was.’

‘Did he, really? Did he also tell you he’d never been turned by the Russians? Or the Americans? Or both?’ Sarcasm dripped off Peterson’s questions. ‘Don’t be so naive, Richard. But maybe that’s why you went straight to him. Maybe he’s your KGB handler. The poor old genius everyone’s forgotten about. It’s a smart play. Hell, maybe you’re the mysterious phantom of Cecil Court too. That’s the only reason I can think of for you visiting Sandra Horne. Check in with Moscow, then make sure your operative hasn’t sold you out yet.’

‘I’m not a traitor,’ Knox replied, spitting the words through clenched teeth.

In response, Peterson’s face broke into a bright smile.

‘Oh, probably hot,’ he said. His tone was suddenly light, almost conversational. ‘All just idle speculation. Not very pleasant though, is it? Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but remember, so is truth.’

‘If you don’t like my methods, take me off the case.’

‘I don’t like that you’re acting as if you’re still working for the director general who’s been lying unresponsive in a hospital bed for four days instead of the one who’s very much with us and gave you a very simple order. Your duty is to the Service, not Holland.’

‘And yours?’ Knox spat back.

‘I do what I’m told.’