‘What does the unit do?’

‘It seems to be Borodin’s own vehicle, and was set up years ago, but we don’t yet know its precise purpose. So far as we can tell, he doesn’t have to answer to Vasily Durov, but directly to the Kremlin and the Russian president.’

‘But if they wanted to convince us that the whole thing was a set-up from the start,’ Callum said, ‘this would be the perfect moment to feed us tales of Igor Borodin’s own top-secret unit.’

Kate and Julie looked at him with new respect. ‘You’re learning fast,’ Julie said.

‘I presume you didn’t bring your whites,’ Callum said. ‘So text me your sizes.’

They both looked at him blankly.

‘We’ll be less conspicuous if we’re actually playing tennis, right? Instead of just poking around for no good reason. Miss Winkelman can make up the four.’

9

CALLUM TURNED OUT to be better at logistics than couture. By seven, he had hired a compact Peugeot and three pristine sets of tennis kit. But that was where he’d faltered.

‘I look like one of the Ugly Sisters,’ Julie said, as she emerged on to the hotel forecourt.

‘I’m not a miracle worker,’ Callum replied.

‘You cheeky bastard.’

Kate could see what her friend meant: their outfits were on the tight side. Perhaps Callum had done that deliberately.

Tess Winkelman was waiting outside the club wearing a stylish pair of Ray-Bans against the bright morning sunlight. ‘I’ve had to move heaven and earth to get you in,’ she said. ‘You’re normally only allowed one guest, so I said you were all newly arrived diplomats looking to join.’

The courts were clay, and housed in a cavernous, heavily air-conditioned dome. ‘We’re at the far end,’ Tess said. ‘And I hope you’re not going to let me down. I said you were all serious players.’

As it happened, Kate’s small Quaker school had been heavily focused on sport and she had pretty much excelled at them all. In her last year, she’d been captain of the First VI, and if that didn’t quite put her in Tess Winkelman’s league, it allowed her to more than hold her own against her opponent’s ferocious serve and heavy top-spin forehand. Callum had no trouble keeping up either.

It was only Julie they had to play around. Kate’s friend and protégée was a natural sportswoman with an easy athleticism, but tennis is a game of patience and practice and Julie had evidently had the benefit of neither. She darted and cursed her way around the court to precious little effect.

They passed an hour easily enough and, as luck would have it, Natasha Demidova turned up on the next court but one, pitting herself against a machine that spat balls towards her consistent and devastating backhand.

They were careful not to rush their own game and waited for the Russian to grunt her way loudly through a final dozen returns, pick up her tracksuit top and stalk away towards Reception.