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didn’t think to ask why he needed your help?”
    â€œHe was cut off before I could ask him.”
    â€œYou see, neither of us believe that. We think he gave you more instructions.”
    â€œIf he had, I swear I’d tell you.”
    â€œNot if he’d trained you to keep quiet, and he has trained you well, hasn’t he, Jessica?” Nathan leafed through her file. “You’re becoming quite the little spy: planting listening devices in a suite in The Ritz and pretending to be ill so you could gain entry to a house in Knightsbridge. What were you up to there, I wonder?”
    Jessica reddened. She’d been helping her dad out when he felt too ill to work alone. She’d planted a bugging device to help catch the vice president of a pharmaceutical company who was suspected of industrial espionage. She felt sure MI6 had found this out already.
    â€œNot so keen to tell us now, are you?” Nathan said. “So you can see why we have a few problems trusting someone who’s been trained to do exactly as her daddy says. What has he told you to do now? Tough it out with us and wait for him to get in touch with another code word? Then you’ll go to him in a few weeks’ time, right?”
    â€œIf I knew for certain where he was in Paris, I’d go to him right now.”
    The words slipped out before she could stop them.
    â€œSo he did tell you where he is.” Nathan banged his fist on the table.
    â€œNo. I saw his bank account. He’d paid for a Eurostar ticket and checked in at the Hôtel Relais Saint-Jacques. I’m pretty sure he’s looking for a missing scientist called Sam Bishop.”
    Nathan and Margaret exchanged glances.
    Jessica shifted in her seat. Was it her imagination or was the room really hot? The radiators must be on full blast. She’d kill for a glass of water but they weren’t offering.
    â€œWhat’s going on? I just want you to start looking for my dad. He’s in danger.”
    A sinister look crept across Nathan’s face. “Your dad’s a traitor and a murderer.”
    â€œNo way! That’s ridiculous.” Her voice sounded weird and a long way away.
    â€œWe wish we were mistaken. It would make things a lot easier.” He jerked his head at Margaret. “Show her.”
    Good cop slid a bank statement towards her. “Perhaps you can explain why five hundred thousand pounds was transferred into your father’s bank account on Saturday afternoon from the British Virgin Islands?” She pointed to the transaction with a soft-pink-lacquered nail.
    Jessica rubbed her forehead. Her dad couldn’t possibly have earned that much. He didn’t earn a fraction of that amount on jobs.
    â€œNo. I can’t explain that exactly. Except, I think—”
    â€œBut we can explain,” Nathan interrupted. “Your dad was paid by this man, via an offshore bank account, to locate and deliver Sam Bishop.”
    He pushed a grainy black and white photo towards her. It showed a dark-haired man who was wearing a pale-coloured suit and sunglasses. She tried not to show any reaction as Nathan studied her. It was the photo she’d seen in one of the MI6 files, lying on the floor in her dad’s bunker.
    â€œVectra is one of MI6’s most wanted men – a terrorist with links across the Middle East, Algeria and Libya,” Nathan said. “He has a fanatical interest in adapting scientific developments for use in chemical and biological warfare.”
    Jessica shoved the photo back across the table. “My dad wouldn’t have anything to do with a terrorist. You’re crazy to think that he would. He was hired by Sam’s mum. I saw the file on Dad’s computer.”
    Margaret raised an eyebrow as she flicked through the file again. “Do you really think a retired schoolteacher could rustle up five hundred thousand pounds and have access to an offshore bank account?