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Isn’t it far more likely that your father took on the case for Mrs Bishop and then sold Sam when he realized how much Vectra would pay for him?”
    Jessica shook her head vigorously. This was totally insane. Why wouldn’t they listen?
    â€œWe intercepted a number of coded messages between Vectra and someone called Starfish, discussing Sam,” Nathan said brusquely. “We have very compelling evidence that your dad’s secret codename is Starfish.”
    Jessica’s eyes widened. Starfish. The name from the file the intruder had uploaded on to Dad’s computer. There was probably more incriminating data planted on there too.
    â€œDo you recognize the name Starfish?” Margaret leant closer, frowning. “Have you heard your father refer to it before?”
    Damnit. She had to be more careful. They were trained to interpret her tiniest of reactions. She must stay cool. “Of course not. Dad takes on lots of missing-person cases – Sam’s no different.”
    â€œExcept this is very different,” Nathan persisted. “Starfish has been pretty busy, hacking into MI6 files containing the names of current agents, presumably to sell to Vectra. Their lives are now in great danger.”
    Jessica didn’t betray her feelings this time. She stared straight ahead.
    â€œDad would never, ever betray his country or MI6. He was one of you!”
    â€œI know this is a shock,” Margaret said softly. “It’s a shock for us too. We didn’t want to believe this about your father either. We both used to work with him. He was a good agent – a good man – back then.”
    Jessica felt tears prick her eyes and blinked them away. She was talking about him in the past tense, as if he were dead. “He still is a good man. A really good man.”
    â€œBut things can change,” Margaret said. “Don’t you think your father could have been tempted by the cash? Isn’t it possible he’s securing your financial future when the multiple sclerosis finally leaves him unable to work?”
    â€œNever!”
    Nathan shuffled his papers. “MI6 – or rather I – warned your dad to stay away from this case, but he didn’t listen. He returned to Paris on Saturday, at around the same time that Vectra flew in. He made contact with one of our agents who’d been assigned the Sam Bishop brief after we learnt of Vectra’s interest.”
    He pushed a colour photo towards her. Jessica recognized the beautiful redhead instantly.
    â€œBut that’s Lara Hopkins, the face of Mulberry,” she blurted out.
    â€œYour dad arranged to meet her to discuss Sam later that afternoon.”
    Nathan passed her another grainy picture which had been taken from a CCTV camera at 3.02 p.m. A couple sat at a table, holding coffee cups. She instantly recognized her dad even though she could only see his profile. Lara’s hair was scraped into a knot and she was wearing a light-coloured raincoat.
    â€œLara’s a spy?” She couldn’t quite believe it. She was the face of half a dozen fashion houses, including Louis Vuitton and Marc Jacobs.
    â€œ Was a spy,” he corrected. “One of our best. Later that night this picture was taken.”
    He shoved a third photo in front of her. This time Lara lay in a crumpled heap, her red hair strewn across a green carpet.
    â€œOhmigod. What’s happened to her?”
    â€œShe was found strangled in her hotel room,” Nathan said grimly.
    Jessica pressed her fingers to her lips as her stomach churned horribly. This was probably just routine for him, but she’d never seen a dead body before. Somehow, recognizing Lara made it even worse.
    â€œOf course, that’s not what we’ll tell the press,” Nathan continued. “The newspapers will report tomorrow that she was stressed about the start of Couture Week and suffered a fatal asthma attack.”
    The room