‘I’ll speak to him. I don’t want him to feel he has to—’

‘He’ll do it. Leave him to me.’

Kate neglected to ask what made Julie so sure Callum would wish to risk his neck to assist either of them, but she doubted very much she would want to know the answer.

27

IT WAS EARLY afternoon by the time Kate reached the Old Mill in Hampshire. She found Sir Alan sitting at a table in the shade by the river, polishing his household silver. ‘Forgive me for asking,’ she said, as she slid in beside him, ‘but isn’t that what you employ a housekeeper for?’

‘It’s her day off.’

‘It could perhaps wait.’

‘I’m tired of fixing the MG,’ he said. ‘Besides, I’m retired, a lonely, useless old widower. What else am I to do?’

His chin was covered with white stubble, his tortoiseshell glasses smudged, his shirt missing a button. ‘I’ll spare you the violins,’ she said. She pointed at his chest. ‘Mrs Evans is certainly capable of sewing a button back on to your shirt.’

‘You’ve come to arrest me?’

Kate gestured to her non-existent back-up team. ‘I hope you’re going to come quietly. Otherwise I’m in all sorts of trouble.’

‘Wait there.’

He dispensed with his silver cloth and the rose bowl he’d been polishing and stalked away towards the house. Kate gazed at the effervescent waters of the brook and the bees zigzagging through the lavender on its nearside bank. She glanced at the rose bowl, first prize in the Leicestershire open tennis championship of 1911. ‘My grandmother,’ he said. ‘She was quite the player until she became an alcoholic.’

He was armed with a tray, upon which were two plates of beef, a salad, a bottle of red wine and two glasses. ‘She always insists on making up for two, just in case I have a guest,’ he said.

‘What if I’m not hungry?’

‘Then you’ll join me out of politeness.’ He poured two glasses of wine and handed her one. She didn’t dare refuse. ‘You think he’ll hang on?’ he asked.

‘The PM?’

‘Who else?’

‘I guess you could be talking about Ian Granger.’

‘Oh, God, that cockroach. Well, he’d survive the nuclear apocalypse. No, I mean the prime minister, of course.’

‘Honestly, no,’ she said. ‘Though he might stand a chance if I can find Agent Dante by the time of the no-confidence vote next week.’

‘And how are you progressing on that front?’

‘Oh, you know … Getting closer.’

‘Hah!’ He was grinning from ear to ear. ‘Teasing me! This … this is what I’ve missed. So you have come to arrest me?’

‘You seem very sure you’re guilty, if I may say so.’

‘By now, your candidates are few. And I venture I look the likeliest of them all.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Ian, or whoever else we’re looking for, has spent a very long time planning this. If he hasn’t laid a trail directly to my door and beyond I’d be frankly disappointed. And perhaps it has enough feints and sleights of hand to keep even you interested.’