He took his hands out of his pockets. 'He'll want to know what — '

'He'll want to know where the body is and that is all you'll tell him, you understand? There's no scrambler on that phone up there. All right, get going.'

'Yes, sir.'

He swung away and I looked at Fry again. 'How many cars have you got here?'

'Three.'

'Where are they?'

'In the station yard.'

'Which is the newest one?' This was Bucharest.

'The Honda.'

I asked him for the number and the keys and he gave them to me, taking his time, resentful, a very resentful man, understandably.

'All right, pull your people out as soon as the body's been picked up.' I got Hornby's watch out of my pocket. 'Give this to the embassy people and ask them to put it into the diplomatic pouch addressed to the Bureau, property of Hornby's estate. Where do I find your DIF?'

Fry put the watch into his pocket. 'I'm afraid I can't tell you.'

Not afraid at all, he was delighted, had read the book. The location of the director in the field is sacrosanct, never to be disclosed if there's the slightest doubt as to the bona fides of the inquirer. This man didn't have any doubts: he'd been told by his DIF to expect someone sent in from Rome by Mr Croder and I'd satisfied him on that and I'd also known the code-name for the mission. He was just getting a bit of his own back, that was all.

'I respect your reticence,' I told him. There was still nothing more than the glint of reflected light in the shadow of his brows. 'But it'd save me having to call London.'