'So I need to become pals with Fernando Griffin.'
        'For a while, yes, you do.'
        Despite the evening's heat, Hugh shivers as he recalls those trips he made to Ireland over the last few years, to watch Michael's back, trips riddled with the fear of discovery. The flights into Dublin and Cork and Shannon, from different countries every time. Parts of overheard conversations come back to him, snatches he heard as he stood guard, in remote country houses, in hotel rooms, where they always took three or four rooms, so that they were secure on either side. He recalls the Irish voices inside one of Donnellan's many holiday apartments in Marbella and along the Costa del Sol. It was just business, as it always has been with Donnellan since he moved to Spain. Some of it is beginning to fit, to make a picture, and it is not one Hugh likes.
        As he mooches along, Hugh is aware of just how near to danger Donnellan flies at times, how close he is to discovery. A millimetre further and he would be booked – except that this is not a football match, but their lives. Suppose he's wrong, or not telling me all the story, Hugh thinks. And the knot of doubt he has always had about Michael Donnellan since the trap in his club in London, the submerged, nagging fear about his, to use one of Godfrey's expressions, veracity grows again. Is Donnellan bent only on revenge? What if he is on the British payroll? Let's face it, Hugh reckons, we've been lucky here, we've had a clear run. Donnellan moves about with ease. An English expatriate, Senor James Rogers, always called Hams by his Spanish friends, who has lived in Spain for over twenty years. The insurance company, the property firm, the holiday apartments, the Irish pubs, which gave Hugh his nickname as el irlandés, all the successful businesses in the booming Spanish economy that has thrived since the country became a democracy after the death of Franco. Donnellan is part of that, with his fortified villa in the suburbs, where he is a neighbour of among others, los galacticos the millionaire stars of the Real Madrid football team.
        For all their years together, which go back to the failed assassination attempt on Mrs Thatcher, Hugh does not know much about Donnellan. He has never been to his villa. When they meet, they do so in his office in an industrial zone, or as Spanish people do, in bars or restaurants. He knows Donnellan has always been a bachelor, has never had any inkling that he is gay, but neither has he shown any interest in women. Hugh assumes he is just one of those people happy with their own company. Or is the secrecy about his personal life more cover? Michael Donnellan, with his business empire and his long involvement with the Irish republican movement – could he also be a British agent, is that why he has been left alone? Hugh is certain if the Brits nail him, it will be a huge propaganda coup for them, one they will exploit before banging him up for life.

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