Our Harry has trodden on some Very Important Toes, she thought.

She became the bright helpful little girl, friendly but perhaps just a little out of her depth among all these clever men. "I only know that the Meeting Notice was sent out according to a list drawn up by the Prime Minister. "

"Deputy Prime Minister," Husband corrected.

"I really don't know. My Director-General asked me to come along because I usually handle the lower-level liaison with Number 10. But -"

"Lower-level,"Husband said quickly. "That, Chairman, is precisely my point, " although it hadn't been to start with.

Her voice stayed steady, despite feeling sick with anger and humiliation; " – but I imagine the Cabinet Office must have had some idea as to whether this is going to touch on security within this country."

Sladen cleared his throat. "I think we can take it that a representative of the Security Service was regarded as, ahh, fundamental."

"I was solely concerned with the need to know," Husband said with deep sincerity.

Nowthere I believe you, Agnes thought. There is something my service needs to know which you don't want us to.

"If there are no other objections," Sladen was carefully not looking for any, "then I think we can proceed with the meeting as it is currently constituted. Now could we -"

"If it comes to that," Sir Bruce rumbled, "I've no clear idea why I'm here myself. Nor," he added, "why that young man is." He smiled lazily across at the second man from Six, directly opposite.

Sladen sighed. "We hope, Sir Bruce, that you might keep a watching brief on behalf of Major Maxim, and indeed the Army as a whole… Mr Sims, also from the Intelligence Service, has specialised knowledge which could help us when we get into more detailed matters. "

Mr Sims, if that was his real name, dressed not so much snappily as very cleanly. His dark blue blazer looked as if it was brand new, as did the white shirt with a very faint grey stripe and the steel blue tie. He was in his middle thirties, his square tanned face set in a permanent appreciative smile, dark hair cut neat and fairly short. Although he chain-smoked menthol cigarettes, his hands – remarkably small hands – were unstained and well manicured.

"Now," Sladen pleaded, "could we please get on?"

Husband had been filling a curved briar from a silver pocket box. He struck a match and breathed a haze of bright blue smoke. "As you probably know, Major Maxim is attached to Number 10for duties that appear not to be precisely defined but touch on security matters. He works, as Sir Anthony said, directly to the Private Office. This whole matter began when my service becameaware of Major Maxim at the scene of asurveillance operation that had been mounted. "

"In London?" George asked.

"Yes, in London. Initially our agents had no idea of who he was, but as I'm sure you know it's standard procedure to take photographs, and as soon as we compared them and a description with our files, we were in no doubt as to who he was."

"So you stopped tailing him," Agnes suggested helpfully. George made a little annoyed grunt. She ignored it; I've been wounded already in this battle, brother. That makes a difference.

"No, not entirely. A full-scale round-the-clock watch obviously wasn't either necessary or appropriate, but we did something to monitor his movements."

Sir Bruce asked: "Did he notice what you were up to?"

Oh, I love thatnotice. Agnes smiled at the old warrior, and then at Husband: by now, her anger at him had distilled to the warming spirit of pure hatred.

"I believe he was lost from time to time, but that of course is inevitable in a down-market operation. We had no positive indication that he was aware of our interest until yesterday morning."

He paused to relight his pipe. Everybody waited patiently. The Assistant Secretary put a large floppy handbag on the table and took out a small handkerchief. Her security pass was clipped to the strap of the bag, like a paddock pass on a racecourse.

"Major Maxim lives alone. His life seems to have no particular routine apart from his work. That night we had two watchmen outside, just in case. He came out very early, as soon as it was light – about half past five – and drove off to Acton. Acton. You may or may not be familiar with Acton, one gets a glimpse of it from the train, but it largely consists of railway yards, goods depots, great piles of broken-up cars. All rather like a battlefield. "

Agnes felt Sir Bruce, stir beside her.

"With hindsight, we now see that our soldier friend was in fact leading our agents into his own sort of country. The two watchmen were in a van, radio-equipped of course, but unfortunately the particular area was under some overheadpower cables which badly affect radio for some distance around."

Sir Bruce nodded contentedly.

"In short, Major Maxim lured our watchers into this place and then ambushed them. The driver waspistol whipped, as I believe our Big Brothers call it, and left dazed and with the radio smashed -beyond repair. The other was kidnapped. He was held at gunpoint, handcuffed, blindfolded and forced into the boot of Major Maxim's car. I can understand soldiers being allowed to play with guns, but I would like to know where he got those handcuffs. "

Nobody could think where until Scott-Scobie said cheerily: "Buy 'em all over, gun shops and so on. Big item in the FD market."

"The what?" George asked.

"Female domination. Whips and bonds."

"Good God."

Scott-Scobie grinned. "Do geton, Guy."

"Yes… then he was driven for, he estimates, about half an hour. He was taken out, in some quiet place, out of doors, and questioned. Or rather, tortured. He was told to say just who he was working for, or he would have ammonia poured onto the blindfold. I assume you all know what raw ammonia does to the eyesight? Bank robbers used to use it quite freely, I believe. You can go blind."

The room was quiet except for a hidden fan that suddenly interrupted its humming with a series of squeaks like somebody rubbing his shoes together. Sladen bent carefully back in his chair and frowned at the ceiling.

"Our man could smell the ammonia," Husband said slowly. "He described quite graphically – to me personally – how he felt with it seeping through the blindfold and beginning to sting and then burn at his eyes so that he was finally forced to open them in order to blink. I do not want to hear anything like that again. Major Maxim then told him that there was no special hurry and that he was to take his time and make his statement complete. I understand that he made it complete."

He paused deliberately.

"As soon as we got him to a doctor-which took sometime – it was discovered that Major Maxim must have held the ammonia under our man's nose while pouring some odourless spirit – quite possibly strong vodka – onto the blindfold in order to produce the stinging sensation."

"At school," Sir Bruce said reminiscently, "they taught me you could go blind from masturbation, never mind ammonia."

"How fascinating. I hate to think what Major Maxim got taught in school-or would it have been the Army?"

"Couldn't say, dear boy, but we do encourage young officers to think creatively."

Husband sat back in his chair and began lighting his pipe for the third time. Sladen looked at George, who reluctantly sat up a bit straighter, and said: "Until your chap did talk, I imagine Major Maxim thought he was being followed by a bunch of Kremlin cowboys."

"I don't see why," Husband said. "Any man with access to sensitive information, such as Major Maxim, should expect to be put under surveillance purely as a matter of routine. By Special Branch, or by a positive vetting team from Defence, or even Miss Algar's own service could quite legitimately decide to check up on his private life. I'm sureshe wouldn't have taken the matter lightly if it had been her own colleagues who had been beaten up and tortured. Nor do I imagine that Number 10would have been overjoyed if it had been some young detective constable."