'You like to keep up the pace, from what I hear.'

'Lose momentum and you've got to deal with inertia.'

'How very true.' He broke some bread, looking past me, nodding to someone. I couldn't see who it was. 'Let's see, you were on Solitaire, weren't you?'

I didn't care for the 'Let's see' bit; it was meant to sound casual, and didn't. Everyone at the Bureau knew damned well I'd been on Solitaire: it had ended with quite a bang.

'Yes,' I said.

'Thought so. Who directed you in the field on that one?'

'Cone.' I waited. If Flockhart knew his facts about that mission he wouldn't let it go.

'Cone, that's right.' He dug some butter for his roll, and the light of the little red-shaded lamp on the table reflected off his knife, flashing across his eyes. He was looking down, busy. 'But wasn't Thrower directing you at first?'

He knew his facts, yes, and wasn't letting it go.

'At first,' I said.

A faint smile came, put on for the occasion. 'Not often we see two directors in the field on one mission. What happened?'

I could smell the dampness on my jacket left by the drizzle, was aware of the heated exchange of Italian going on behind the doors to the kitchen. My senses were tuned, alerted, because this man Flockhart was putting a probe into me, and I didn't know why. But of course he hadn't asked me to join him down here to discuss the cricket scores.

'What happened,' I told him, 'was that Thrower wanted to do things his way and I wanted to do things mine.'

He put his knife down carefully. 'So you had him replaced, is that it?'

'Yes.'

'In the middle of the mission?'

'Pretty well.'

'And Bureau One agreed to do it, is that right?'

'Yes.' Bureau One was the head of the whole organization.

'So you must have had good cause.'

' I had good cause whether Bureau One agreed with it or not.'