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The first strange event was when Bob Newman, foreign correspondent, arrived at Heathrow to meet the American guest. He showed his SIS folder to pass through the formalities. Standing by the carousel, he checked the photo sent from Washington. On the back was a written description.

Six feet one tall, weight 190 Ibs, clean-shaven, thirty-five years old. Newman spotted Mark Wendover at once among the crowd waiting for their baggage. Coming up behind him, he laid a hand on his shoulder.

'Welcome, Mr Wendover…'

The American, built like a quarterback, reacted in a most unexpected way. As he swung swiftly round, Newman saw his right hand stiffen in the gesture of a potential karate chop. Newman spoke quickly.

'I'm Bob Newman, here to meet you. Didn't they tell you? We did send a message. '

'Great to see you. Thanks for coming. May I call you Bob?'

'Of course. '

'Then I'm Mark. Sorry if I startled you. Haven't had any sleep for over twenty hours. '

'Better watch the carousel…'

'You're right. And here comes my bag…'

They were in Newman's car, driving into London, sitting next to each other when Newman asked the question.

And if I startled you, he thought, you certainly startled me.

'We're not quite sure what your status is. Cord Dillon, the Deputy Director of the CIA, was in a rush when he phoned and a bit vague about you. '

'I'm vague myself about what to do next. I was with the CIA for five years. It was OK, but too much paperwork for my liking. I did fieldwork too,' he added quickly. 'Shot a saboteur in Denver once. Left the outfit – the Company as some of the oldsters still call it – and set up a private detective agency. That did well – I've left behind a staff of twenty. ' He looked at Newman and grinned, but the grin did not extend to his cold blue eyes. 'But that isn't why I'm here. '

'I gather you're here because you have information about the recent suicide of Jason Schulz, top aide to the Secretary of State. '

'Except it wasn't suicide,' Wendover rapped back. 'It was cold-blooded murder, amateurishly disguised to look like suicide. '

Why, Newman was asking himself, don't I feel comfortable with this guy? And why am I sure he's nervous? The traffic had temporarily stopped the car and he looked straight at his passenger.

Wendover had corn-coloured hair, cut very short, a handsome strong face of the type which would appeal to a lot of women. His long nose was broken, which seemed to add to his good looks. He had a wide determined mouth and just enough jaw to suggest strength without aggression.