‘Non. Contrary to what Ralph and those in your old profession might want us to think –’ tapping the newspaper that Dyer had laid on the table – ‘I have yet to be convinced that we should finger Iran for Marvar’s vanishing act. They have taken his wife and daughter, yes. Without doubt, the Mullahs would welcome Marvar’s information, and even go many lengths to secure this. Yet from what my contacts are saying – and my sources are the best, Jean, trust me, the very best – there is no more reason to believe the Iranians have kidnapped Marvar than have the Russians or the Israelis. And, yes, in case you are wondering – and after your unfortunate experience outside the Randolph, why wouldn’t you wonder, mon dieu? – the same holds true for the Saudis, the Chinese et comme ça.

‘But nor, on the other hand, do I have the strong impression that Marvar would willingly sell out to Iran’s enemies. This doesn’t suit his character either, from what I have been learning of him.

‘So, I ask myself, who does that leave?’

He was thinking his own thoughts, swishing his tail. ‘If Marvar has voluntarily given his information to someone – and it’s not merely Ralph who thinks this, mind – then who could that person be? The kind of man Marvar is – or, if one has to be pessimistic, was – it stands to reason he would seek out an honest broker. I see him as clearly as I see you, Jean. He’s in danger, he’s afraid. He doesn’t trust his regime. He doesn’t trust the West. What he’s in search of – desperately – is someone he can trust. But who? I considered all the people he might approach, and one after another I dismissed them.’

His brows came together and he looked at Dyer from far away, a hen harrier who had espied a little sparrow far below.

‘Then I kept thinking, for some reason, Jean, of you.’

‘Moi?’ said Dyer, taking another sip. They had been fencing. Time to stop parrying.

‘I said to myself: didn’t Marvar spend the night at Jean’s house before he disappeared? Then I heard something most peculiar. You were observed wearing Marvar’s coat soon afterwards. How very odd, I thought. And then I remembered that I had seen you both talking at the match against Horris Hill – and also, now it came back to me, one evening at the school sandpit, yes, the very sandpit where on Sunday I interrupted Marvar reading, or whatever he was doing before he leaped up in such a terrible hurry. I could see you sitting there as I ran past, heads together in conversation, like we are now, and I wondered if he might have spoken to you of his exciting development, what he was planning to do with it, given you something even?’

Gilles made a motion with his lip, linked to a smile but not a smile.