"You've got five minutes to join your group before the cortege comes into the square from the other end. Make for the dais under the portrait of Jiang Wenyuan and do whatever the security man tells you — and don't forget you'll be under scrutiny."

The military band was now playing the «Internationale», and there was movement beginning in the crowd packing the far end of the square.

"I shall be standing behind the official mourners," Ferris told me, "and I'll meet you again after the ceremony. If for any reason we get separated and you need me, phone the Embassy and ask for McFadden, second cultural attache; he's the station officer for the Bureau and he's versed in speech-code, so I want you to use it. Questions?"

"Yes. When is the English contingent flying back?"

"Some time this afternoon, as soon as the Secretary of State has offered his condolences to the Vice-Premier and his party. We then change your cover and papers."

"Understood."

I left him and pushed my way to the roped area below the immense portrait of the late Premier and showed my credentials to an officer of the special police guard; he was almost casual in the way he let me through, and I remembered this was Pekin, not Moscow.

"'Morning, Gage."

Detective-Inspector Stanfield took a couple of steps towards me and half-turned again to watch the Secretary of State. "You want instructions, I understand."

"Just general procedure." All this man had been told was that I was Secret Service and working here as one of his team.

"We're expecting no trouble," he said quietly. "The main thing is to keep your eye on the body. There's no crush here and everyone in this enclosure has had to show their papers, so he'll be all right. If anyone's got any ideas about lining up a pot-shot, the ANFU will spot him in the crowd — there's three hundred of them just at this end of the square. The thing is to relax — and, as I say, keep your eye on the body."