Kate stopped. ‘Callum, we’re going to get along just fine if you do what I ask without issue or complication and don’t ask me questions about my motives.’

‘Ah, and if I do, what happens? I get promoted?’

As he towered over her, his handsome face creased with the faintest hint of a grin, she was aware for the first time of the true impact of his charisma. Young he might be, but naive he was not. ‘If your true motive is revenge for being forced out of SIS, then it would be good to know,’ he said. ‘That’s all.’

‘It’s not.’

‘I’d understand if you wanted to bring Ian Granger down,’ he went on, ‘if he was the guy who forced you from the organization you’d devoted your life to.’

‘He wasn’t.’

‘Has the prime minister promised you something?’

‘Why do you ask that?’

‘Because that’s normally how he works. He rarely delivers on any commitment, as I’m sure you’ve worked out.’

Of course Kate knew the prime minister’s word was worth almost nothing – and yet wasn’t she, on some level, relying on it? ‘So what do you think I should have said back there?’ she asked.

‘If you’re asking my honest advice, I’d have held firm, warning against the leak but saying you’ll deliver the verdict of your investigation whenever it’s ready. He might well survive the no-confidence vote anyway – and, if he doesn’t, whoever succeeds him is going to want to get to the bottom of this.’

‘How public-spirited of them.’ She started walking again. ‘What do you really make of him?’ Callum burst out laughing. ‘What’s so funny?’ she demanded.

‘He’s a politician! I mean, if you really want to know, we’ll be here for hours. He’s selfish, but capable of altruism and generosity. He’s egotistical, insecure, but bullish, even brutish – a suit of armour he’s learnt to put on. He’s emotionally incontinent and utterly unreliable, but needs to be loved in a way that is by turns endearing and pathetic. He’s smart, cunning and likes to make bold gestures, though he’s also capable of chronic indecision. He’s funny sometimes, kind at others, but an absolute bastard when his back’s to the wall. How long have you got?’

‘Do you think he’s innocent?’

‘Of course.’

‘Why?’

‘Who in their right mind would even try to blackmail him?’

Kate didn’t have an answer for that and she passed the rest of the journey back to their office deep in thought. Maybe Callum was right. Who would ever think James Ryan a suitable candidate for blackmail?

Julie had been back to SIS Headquarters in Vauxhall to print off a copy of the top-secret file on Ian’s Czech lover, Eva Svobodova, which was now on Kate’s desk.

She sat down, pulled her desk lamp closer, opened the file and tried to pay attention to the woman before her. It was a welcome escape.

Eva had been beautiful, without question. Not that this was a surprise: by and large, Ian had good taste. She had grown into a handsome woman with fashionable steel-rimmed glasses. She had begun her career in Prague in 1989, the same time, more or less, as Ian Granger had started out in SIS in London – just as the old Soviet Empire had begun to fall apart. New York had been her first foreign posting, a plum assignment for a young Czech agent, where, like Ian, she’d worked undercover as a press attaché in her country’s UN delegation. Three years later, she had been transferred to Washington, where she was still undeclared as a press attaché at the embassy there.