'Christ,' I said, 'if I thought I looked like that I'd go and shoot myself!'

'This is your photograph. We know it is.'

'Bloody insulting!'

It was the same one.

'One of our agents managed to swim clear,' he said, 'from the car in the harbour.'

Frown. Three-second pause. Then: 'What the hell are you--'

'He says this is your photograph.'

Prolong mystification. 'Car in the harbour? What on earth,' so forth, till he cut in again.

Your photograph.

Your photograph.

Your photograph.

Till I blew up and began shouting, I tell you you're making a stupid mistake, I demand to phone the governor of Hong Kong, you can't do this to a subject of the United Kingdom, storming up and down, could've been an actor if I didn't have a face like a hyena's arse.

Your photograph.

I let him go on.

Very hot in here now.

Damned if I'm going to ask him to open the door.

Photograph.

Told him to screw himself, then he pulled the towel off the thing on the bed and watched my eyes closely.

'Hell's that?'

'Your radio. We found it.'

Feeble laugh. 'Listen, if I had a radio like that I'd get a bomb for it in Kowloon! What is it -- Hammerlund?' I looked at it, very keen radio man.

'This is your radio.'

'Well, I must say that's very generous of you.'

I timed it at fifteen minutes: he gave it all he knew how.

Your radio.

Your radio.

Your radio.

Told him he was out of his cotton-pickin' mind, told him to belt up. Bloody light was in my eyes, starting to worry me. I still wasn't completely out of the narcosis thing and I hadn't slept since eight-o'clock last night and it was now six-thirty and he was still pitching it at me.

'Where was your base? The Hong Kong Cathay?'

'I don't know what you're --'

'The Mauritius? You stayed at both those places.'

'Will you bloody well listen to me a minute? I tell you--'

You're mistaken.

Where was your base?

He threw me the other places on my travel pattern, watching my eyes, trying to pick his way in, the Orient Club, the Golden Sands Hotel, telling me he knew I'd been there, telling i me he knew so much about me that there wasn't any point in my denying his accusations.

'You were there when Flower died.'

'What flower?'

'The man Flower. You were there when he died.'

'What the hell's a man flower?'

I looked at him obliquely again, worried about his mental state.

'Flower was an agent. He was your agent.'

'Oh Jesus wept, are you back on that agent thing?'

Flower.

Flower.

Hot and the light blinding.

Flower.

One stage I thought all right we'll have a go, he's in the first defensive position but that doesn't matter I'll start with a full yoharka, give him no time.

Have to watch it. No emotions. Start emoting and you'll end up right in his hands because the gut-think'll get in the way of the brain-think. Steady.

Tired, that's all. Went down too deep, too long.

'You were there when he --'