Sir Laurence took this outburst quite calmly – they all took it calmly. He cleared his throat. ‘Yes,’ he said, ‘that much is true, Miss Watson. The PM is titular head of the Security Service. However, as for your other … thoughts, I’m afraid they are rather off-beam. I’ll admit, though, that we had been thinking along similar lines ourselves. We’ve had inklings, for example, that something is simmering, and that the chefs are the chiefs of staff of our own armed forces. That much is true. A coup seemed a feasible explanation. However, it was difficult to go to the PM with what were merely inklings—’

‘Especially now,’ interrupted Farquharson, his voice more reasonable than before, and obviously not wishing Strong to be allowed to tell too much of the story by himself. ‘What with NATO bickering, and this blasted pull-out and all. You see, the military bigwigs have been whingeing, and they’ve also been currying favour within Parliament, seeking out supporters, that sort of thing. In the current climate, the government wants to remain on friendly terms with the military, so anything we might say would in all likelihood be taken as paranoia or even jealousy. Though,’ he added as an afterthought, ‘both those notions are preposterous.’

Having had his say, he sat back and folded his arms. Sir Laurence continued. ‘What Blake is saying is that we couldn’t find many friendly ears to listen to us. Yet we knew something was going to happen.’

‘So,’ asked Hepton, ‘just what is happening?’ Jilly’s notion of a coup had crossed his mind too, but he had rejected it for something a little more frightening.

There was silence in the room as eyes sought out other eyes, looking for answers. Sir Laurence spoke first.

‘We aren’t sure. We planted agents in some of the more important military offices – new clerical help, that sort of thing. Risky, and so far we’ve been able to shed no new light.’

‘And meanwhile,’ interrupted Farquharson, ‘I’ve got agents abroad trying to find out what they can.’

‘Including Parfit,’ stated Hepton. Farquharson glowered at him.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘including Parfit. He’s one of our best men. I hope you’ll be able to meet him.’

‘What does that mean?’ asked Jilly, frowning incomprehension.

‘It means,’ said Farquharson, ‘that he’s on his way here. And bringing Major Dreyfuss with him. Things are getting too uncertain in the States, and we want the major out of there. Now, tell us about your meeting with Cameron Devereux …’

Part IV

Guardian, 13 March 1987

25

They left the embassy compound in a van that claimed to belong to DC Hygiene. Dreyfuss, dressed in overalls and uneasy in the passenger seat, asked Parfit – also in overalls and driving – what the company did.

‘They deliver roller towels for the toilets, that sort of thing. Gum?’

He noticed that Parfit was offering him a stick of chewing gum.

‘No thanks,’ he said.