‘OK.’ Palmer steepled his hands. ‘So we need to keep this to ourselves. I understand.’

‘It’s the only way to be sure Taher isn’t forewarned.’

‘Right.’ Palmer looked both excited and nervous. ‘We can do this. First you give me the full details, second we formulate a plan of attack. I’m glad you came to me, Stephen. If we work together on this then Taher is history.’

An hour later and they were done. Palmer slipped away while Holm went across to where Javed was sitting at an outside table nursing an empty latte glass.

‘Well?’ Javed said. ‘What did he say?’

‘He said you’re crap at field craft,’ Holm said. ‘You might as well have hung a sign round your neck.’

Javed shook his head, annoyed. ‘I meant about Taher.’

‘I know.’ Holm patted Javed on the back. ‘Go home and pack some fresh clothes. And think hot. We’re going to Tunisia.’

Silva sat at an outside table on one of the terraces. A stone-columned balustrade ran in an ellipse above an oval pond. White flowers and green lily pads and giant orange fish lurking in the depths. There was tea in a silver pot and bone china cups and saucers. A selection of biscuits on a plate.

She’d jumped up when Weiss had dropped the bombshell about a new mission to kill Karen Hope, but his footsteps were already echoing down the corridor. A door closed and a car crunched away down the gravel driveway. Fairchild told her not to be too hasty. There were things, he said, that she needed to know. Weiss worked for a small department within MI5 known as the Special Accounts Unit. Ostensibly the department dealt with allocating funds to freelance operatives and non-governmental groups, but in reality its purpose was to carry out highly secretive missions that needed to be deniable. Even within the security services, few people knew of the true nature of the SAU.

Now Fairchild sat across the table from her. He reached for the teapot and poured the tea.

‘Despite being called the Special Accounts Unit,’ he said, ‘there is absolutely no accountability. Simeon Weiss can do almost anything he likes and get away with it.’ Fairchild slid a cup and saucer across the table to Silva. ‘You might be wondering how I got involved with Simeon. I’d like to tell you it was altruism, a sense I should do something for my country, but I’m ashamed to say it’s more related to certain indiscretions from my past. These days some may call them crimes and who am I – a white, privileged, male – to disagree?’

‘What on earth are you talking about?’

‘Mr Weiss has a file on me. A few sheets, no more, but enough information to have my wife packing a suitcase and hiring a lawyer. Enough to have the police knocking at my front door. Enough, in short, to ruin me.’

‘He blackmailed you?’