No, his head didn’t hurt. He put his right hand to his forehead and felt a plaster there.

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘a bit of a headache.’

‘We’ll get you something for that. I’ll be back to see you shortly. Meantime, if there’s anything you need, just ask Nurse …?’ The doctor had forgotten her name.

‘Carraway,’ she said. She smiled at Dreyfuss again, her hair the colour of honey. And he smiled back. By which time the doctor had left the room and the door was swinging shut. A voice was raised somewhere in the corridor. The goon, thought Dreyfuss, the one called General Ben Esterhazy.

‘Can I see a newspaper?’ he asked Nurse Carraway. She was sitting down with her book again, legs crossed. Were those silk stockings she was wearing? Since when were silk stockings regulation issue for nurses?

‘I’ll have to check on that, Mr Dreyfuss.’

‘Didn’t you hear? It’s Major.’

‘Of course it is. I’m sorry.’

‘That’s okay.’

She had risen to her feet, but instead of leaving to fetch a paper, she approached the bed.

‘Can I just ask one thing?’ she said.

He smiled. ‘How can I stop you?’

‘I was just wondering …’ Her fingers stretched towards him, stopping just short of his throat. ‘I was wondering how you got those bruises on your neck.’

Hes Adams’ fingers trying to wrench the life from him, when they were both already dead.

‘What bruises?’ he said, his eyes clear and honest.

She smiled, but uncertainly. Then walked to the door and opened it, turning back to look at him before leaving. Dreyfuss checked that there were no cameras trained on him from the corners of the room, no holes drilled in the wall. Seeing none, he allowed himself the luxury of a smile.

6

Parfit stared at the security room’s various screens as they relayed the passing parade outside the embassy. Most days now there was a demonstration of some kind. It might be the French embassy or the German embassy. But mostly, as today, it was the British embassy. Today’s crowd was small. Thank the unseasonal Washington drizzle for that perhaps. They were yelling something, but the cameras hadn’t been wired for sound, not outside the perimeter wall at any rate. It didn’t matter. He knew the gist of their chants. You don’t want us, we don’t want you – that sort of thing. And he took their point. Whether he agreed with it or not was irrelevant.