He cleared his throat, meaning to speak kindly. “You haven’t found Emilio’s boat?”

“No,” said Silkleigh. “Spookily enough. What about you?”

“It’s not a competition, Silkleigh,” said Panteco. “But naturally, you will tell us.”

“Naturally, Captain. You’re my friend.”

“George Queesal,” said Queesal, holding out a hand to Dolores. His eyes sprawled over the librarian, fumbling with her blouse.

At that moment Mohamed switched on the lights and Rosita could be seen walking between the tables. She held Gallo’s guitar in her arms. She offered it to the drinkers. The money they put inside would go to the fisherman’s family.

“Rose-beef!” cried Silkleigh, swivelling. He pursed his fingers and kissed their tips and opened the purse and sent his kiss across the room.

Rosita was about to walk away when Wavery raised his hand. She hesitated, as if she had never intended to come near the bar. She chewed the inside of her cheek, before approaching the crowd there. Wavery posted his notes between the strings.

“Thank you. I was three years in Lisbon.”

“Rose-beef!” Silkleigh seized hold of her. He hugged her to him, brushing her cheeks with his own. “Don’t go too close,” he whispered, “but I want you to meet Lord Queesal, from Londono.”

Rosita, ignoring him, stood apart. She addressed Captain Panteco. “Hello, Lustrino.”

Silkleigh said, “I’ve been telling him about my book!”

Wearisomely, Rosita turned and she looked at Silkleigh in a distant way, as if what he said and indeed everything about him was to her a matter of epic indifference.

“First lay the egg, Silkleigh, then cackle.”

Chapter Eleven

1

QUEESAL COMPLETED HIS report with military efficiency. Any hope Wavery might have entertained of sympathetic treatment dissolved soon after breakfast with the discovery of a flood traced to a blocked drain beneath the laundry room.

In the light of Inspector Queesal’s recommendations, London despatched a telex at the beginning of February seeking clarification. It was felt necessary to remind Wavery that the residence had to be in a state of complete readiness by i July, one month prior to the Royal Visit. This was an imperative. The PUS would understand no excuse. The telex was signed by the acting Head of Department. Wavery wondered what had happened to Pulleyblank.

Wavery had become accustomed to such telexes. One of the problems posed by looking at the world in the manner of a reasonable Anglo-Saxon was the difficulty of persuading London you had not gone native. Wavery reacted by delivering his severest reprimand yet to Pas de Problème, to the effect normal incompetence could sometimes be mistaken for obstruction, after which he dictated a telegram assuring London he had conducted useful talks with the contractors and each side now had arrived at a clear appreciation of the other’s position.

To OED he confirmed the safe arrival of the Daimler, parked on the pavement outside the Consulate.

Asuncíon noticed that he enjoyed driving home.

2

On a bitterly cold day in February Sir Derek Cullis entertained the head of the Intelligence Service to luncheon at his club.