A classic Anthony Price tale from 1986 involving treble-crossing Russians, over-here Americans, UK secret services departments at war with each other and, at the centre of it all, Price's renegade spook/historian Dr David Audley, getting on a bit now but still managing to be too clever by half, this time on a jaunt around North Devon with a new sidekick, minder/historian Sir Thomas Arkenshaw (in Mr Price's version of the British secret service, the people who matter are all historians as well as spies).
The pace is glacial as always, and the action (also as always) consists largely of the dissection, in minute detail, of possible motives for the smallest of actions, with the reader challenged to keep up ("Audley realised, too late, that Comrade Panin never ordered cheese and pickle, hadn't done even in Budapest in 1956. And as the significance of this sunk in, he also realised that Henry Jaggard must have known it, which in turn could only mean one thing about Arkenshaw's presence." - OK, I made that quote up). If you're a Price fan though (which I am) you'll love it, these days with the added bonus of fondly remembering a world before mobile phones, when spies had to make calls from phone boxes and no-one knew where anyone else was. Great stuff!