‘As I said, he never forgot. Unfortunately, he was in possession of documents that we’d thought it necessary at the time to give him for Pitchfork—’

‘He didn’t need the restaurant photograph for that.’

‘I apologise for that. When we made our arrangement with him, he asked for a print. As we’d already shown it to him as part of our evidence, there seemed no harm in it.’

‘You actually gave him that photograph,’ said Sara incredulously.

‘Yes.’

‘And the tape.’

‘Yes.’

‘What else did you give him?’

Isobel didn’t answer. She checked to left and right; mothers, with eyes only for babies in prams and undisciplined toddlers, and joggers with earphones occasionally passed by. ‘As well as documents, one or two of Kareem’s team on Pitchfork had remained on his retinue. He paid for them.’

‘Aaqil being one.’

‘Yes.’

‘Is he being deported?’

‘No, he’s a UK national. We’ll deal with him. Without Kareem, he is, and has, nothing.’ Isobel took a deep breath. ‘What I’m trying to tell you, Sara, is that what has happened is the result of actions by a former agent who went rogue. I regret it.’

‘What about the threat to Patrick outside his flat?’

‘That was an exception. It was an intervention made with good intentions but it was unwise. I’ve reprimanded those responsible.’

‘The watchers in my street. The injury to my father.’

Isobel frowned. ‘I know nothing of those.’

‘The helicopter arriving at the farm. Unless Kareem has his own air force.’

Isobel allowed the curl of a smile. ‘By that time, too late I know, we were on top of Kareem’s games. We were also aware of the plans Patrick had made for your trip to Wales. It was information acquired by legally authorised warrants. As was the monitoring device we planted in the barn.’

‘You listened in?’

‘We have a record – there are one or two inaudibles.’ Sara remembered Kareem’s disgusting whisper in her ear. He must have suspected. ‘In fact, I contacted Kareem before your meeting with him in the barn—’

‘Did you facilitate it?’

‘By that time, we were in a position to take pre-emptive action. Without going into details, the answer is yes.’

Isobel stopped, as if she’d allowed herself to go too far. Sara frowned, hesitating, calculating whether to pursue it. ‘Have you ever sent me any texts?’

Isobel screwed up her eyes in apparent astonishment. ‘What?’

‘Forget it,’ said Sara. ‘Why did you “facilitate” the meeting?’

‘I felt it could be important to hear how he played it, what he’d feel provoked to say to you – and also ensure it couldn’t go on too long. Pull him out in good time. Just in case it turned unpleasant.’

‘Unpleasant?’ Isobel stayed silent. ‘And the call Sylvia Labone made to the local police?’ continued Sara.