Fortified by the unforgettable experience of one of Sarah's American-style Sunday breakfasts, Skinner felt more or less human when he strode into the almost empty headquarters building at twenty-five minutes past noon.
He had welcomed the message that a delay on the trans-Atlantic flight meant that his American guest would not be catching the 11 a.m. shuttle. Still, he knew that his condition was fragile, and so, even before taking off his jacket he filled his coffee filter with the stronger of the two blends which he kept in his cupboard, topped up the water reservoir and set the machine to work.
The jug had only just filled when Merle Gower appeared in the doorway, her dark business suit contrasting with Skinner's denims and sweatshirt.
`Sir?' she said. The officer at the desk said we should come op. Mr Doherty is here.'
Skinner laughed. 'Jesus Christ, Joe,' he shouted. 'Are you so bloody important now that you have to be announced? Come on in,'
The Deputy Chair of the American National Security Council was still very new in post.
While Doherty's sudden leap to stardom had surprised Skinner, and by reports, most of Washington, it had not astounded him. The policeman had held him in high regard during his spell as the FBI representative in the London Embassy, the Bureau's senior overseas posting, and had admired the powers of intellect, analysis and tenacity which had led his Director to nominate him for the crucial NSC post.
He strode into Skinner's office with hand outstretched in greeting. 'Hi there, Big Bob. I didn't expect that we'd meet again so soon. But trouble seems to attach itself to you like filings to a magnet, don't it.' He spoke with a soft mid-Western drawl which, added to his lack of height and slimness of build, made him a very unstereotypical law enforcer.
`Stop it, mate. The same thought's been occurring to me.' He poured three mugs of the strong coffee, added milk to his own, and stood back to allow Doherty and Gower to adjust theirs to their taste. As always Doherty took his black with half a spoon of sugar, barely stirred.
`So, wee man,' said Skinner, as they settled into the low chairs around his coffee table,
'how's the new job, then? I'm sorry I didn't have a chance to wish you luck before you went.'
The thin sallow face relaxed in a grin. 'No one did. One day I was in my hutch in the Square, and the next I was in DC. The job is daunting. I should think there's some comparison with your own role as Security Adviser in Scotland, but..
The DCC nodded, and took a swig from his mug. 'Sure, multiplied by a factor of around two hundred, I should think. What ground do you cover?'
`Shit, you name it, the President's liable to throw it at us. Anything that can loosely be called a threat to America's security lands on our desks.'
`So how come you're involved in this thing? I can tell you now that your national security is not an issue here.'
Doherty grinned mischievously. 'Don't you believe it. Our Chief Executive takes the view that his re-election is a matter of national security. So he's ordered the NSC to conduct a high profile international investigation of the murder of Secretary Massey. He's been on the hot line to your Prime Minister asking for his co-operation. So here I am.
`Have you got a note from Teacher?'
`Believe it or not, I have.' Doherty delved into his briefcase and produced a white envelope, of about A4 size. He handed it across to Skinner, who opened it, full of curiosity, and drew out its contents. As he looked at it, Doherty and Gower saw his eyes widen.
The White House crest caught his attention at once. His eyes swept to the foot of the page and saw the clear signature of the President of the United States. Only then did he read the letter. It was short and succinct, advising the reader that Mr Doherty was on a personal mission from the White House, and requiring, not seeking co-operation with him.
The policeman handed it back, with a smile. 'Can I have a photocopy?' he asked. ‘for my memoirs.'
The American smiled. 'Sure you can. Is that gorgeous, leggy secretary of yours about?'
It's Sunday, Joe remember? I can work a photocopier, though. Have you got anything else in that bag of any relevance to the investigation?'
Doherty nodded. 'Merle told you, I think, about the Iraqi network which the CIA tapped into. I have a report on it, and on the UK end.'
Does it give any clue as to who Agent Robin is?'
`Nope, not even what gender. The file copy which came to us says only that he or she is a civil servant, and was recruited on campus as a student, by an Iraqi Intelligence Agent.'
`How old is the information?'
`Pretty fresh.'
`Merle said that Robin had been activated just recently.'
Doherty nodded. 'That's true. But there seems to be a pattern. They never have two agents running at once. The man we caught, Eagle, was active a couple of years back, Mouse in France last year, Hawk in Germany four years ago. Robin was the last of the sleepers and the pattern indicates that he will have been activated by now; our analysts believe that the Iraqis will have been keeping him until he had reached the right level in your civil service before switching him on. Unless of course your people have stumbled upon the Robin's nest and eliminated him without telling anyone.'
`Come on, Joe, we wouldn't do that.'
The little American laughed. 'Bob. You can put your hand on your heart and tell me that?
And I took you for an honest man.'
Skinner changed the subject. The banter was coming too close to home. 'What are you going to do with that file?'
I'm going to feed it into the investigation. You're in charge, so that means it's all yours, for what it's worth.' He paused. 'So, what have you got? Merle filled me in on your briefing yesterday. Any developments since then?'
Quickly, Skinner described the bomb team's findings, and explained the direction in which his investigation was heading. `These Red Boxes are pretty secure items. Yet somewhere along the line this one was booby-trapped. So the obvious conclusion is that this was an inside job, but possibly linked to an outside agency. This rogue Serbian General and Agent Robin both sound like likely candidates.
I'm expecting a preliminary report from Chief Inspector Donaldson some time this afternoon. Maybe after that we'll be able to wrap it up quick, and your President can grab some credit in time for his election.
`Don't hold your breath, though. In my experience, the obvious conclusion is usually wide of the mark!'