They drove for ten or fifteen minutes, and then entered a large complex of new-looking office buildings. Lights burned in a few upstairs windows. They passed a street sign, and Dan whipped round to see it through the rear window.

"Trouble?" said the driver.

"No, it's just... I could've sworn that sign said 'Dopey Drive.'"

"It did. And we're on Mickey Avenue right now."

"This is Walt Disney's movie studio? I saw it in a film last year."

The driver glanced slyly at him and put a finger to his lips. He parked in front of a small building, and everyone got out. The barrier at the factory gate had smashed one of the car's headlights, put a big dent in the hood just behind the light, and scraped off a good deal of paint on the edge of the roof.

"That gate really did a number on you," Dan remarked.

"A quick visit to the garage," the driver replied, "and it'll all be tickety-boo, as the Brits say."

"You're not just Major Gordon's driver, are you?"

The driver turned to Doctor Fung and jerked his thumb in Dan's direction. "This one's smart. You should keep him."

Dan clenched his fist, then forced himself to relax. It was a long walk back to the motel.

The driver led them to a door at the side of the building, where he knocked in what sounded like a pre-arranged pattern. A hatch in the door slid open.

"They're with me," the driver said. "I just need a meeting room for half an hour or so."

Locks were turned and bolts drawn back, and the door opened. Behind it stood a man who could've escaped from a circus—​four feet tall, nearly as wide, with arms that reached almost to his knees. He wore a pristine military uniform, but one that seemed to belong to the last century.

"It's not polite to stare," the man said. Dan had expected his voice to sound like a saw tearing into dry wood, but it was almost normal in comparison to his appearance.

"Sorry," Dan mumbled, looking away.

"Room four is free," the circus man said to the driver.

"Any chance of some coffee?"

"What do you think?"

The space behind the door was only a few feet square. It contained a high stool, which the circus man jumped backwards onto, and a small shelf next to the stool. On the shelf were a telephone and a newspaper, open at the crossword.

The driver pushed a place on the wall opposite the shelf, and a section of the wall swung away, revealing a dark passage. He flipped a switch near the entrance, and some weak electric lights came on. The passage was in fact a staircase descending into the ground.

The stairs led to a short corridor with doors numbered one to four. The driver opened number four, turned on the lights inside, and gestured for Dan and the Doctor to enter.

The room was dusty and smelled as though it hadn't been used for a while. A square table took up most of the space, with about a dozen office chairs around it. At each corner of the table was a telephone, with their wires going into a hole in the table's centre. A large map of the United States occupied one wall.

The driver and Doctor Fung sat facing one another across a corner of the table. Dan sat at the Doctor's side. A couple of pieces of paper, covered in sketches of cartoon animals, had been wedged under the nearest phone.

"OK, first things first," said the driver. He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm going to have to ask you to drop your investigation into Gold River Munitions and Mr Winterton."

Dan had half-expected him to say something like that, but it was still a surprise to hear it.

"On whose authority, sir?" Doctor Fung asked.

"Inspector Bancroft. He's invoked the Connaught Accords."

Dan had no idea who Inspector Bancroft was, or what was in the Connaught Accords, but the Doctor nodded, as though that was exactly what he'd thought the driver would say. "Then Mr Winterton is merely a pawn on a very large board, and to capture him too soon would alert the enemy to your plans."

"What enemy?" said Dan. "The Japs? If they've got spies and saboteurs over here, we should root them out and string them up, before they can do any more damage."

The Doctor shook his head and sighed. "My dear friend, there is much I have not told you. I had hoped I would never have to tell you, but the time draws near when I must."

"What are you talking about? I've saved your life more times than I can count, and I've always trusted you to be straight with me. Now you're telling me you've been lying the whole time?"

The Doctor smoothed his jacket and gazed past Dan for a moment. Then he looked him straight in the eye. "I have never lied to you, my friend, and I never will. The knowledge to which I refer was not relevant to our partnership until recently."

The driver cleared his throat. "If Mr Barrister hasn't had a need to know this, then probably I'm not cleared for it either. So, if it can wait until I'm not around...?"

"Of course," said Doctor Fung, relief spreading across his face. "You mentioned a debriefing?"

"Yes." He asked them a few questions about what they'd done after leaving the factory yesterday, which Dan and the Doctor answered.

"Garibaldi's not in Texas any more," the driver said, "if he ever was. I think he's more involved in this than Winterton's letting on." He studied the map on the wall for a few moments. "Well, thank you for your help with this case, gentlemen. I'm sure you've fitted a couple more pieces into the puzzle." From an inside pocket of his jacket, he took a small white envelope, which he passed to Doctor Fung. "I was ordered to give you this. Don't open it just yet. All I know is that it's half of a message. The other half will be delivered separately, so I'd suggest you don't leave town in the next few days."

"Understood, sir," said Doctor Fung. "If there is nothing else, would you drive us back to our motel, please?"