Ten minutes later Eli, Yuval and MI6’s Milne were sitting in the library at The Travellers Club. Whether by design or coincidence, the room was deserted. The three men sat on leather seats around a low table that seemed to have been created for low conversations, although there could be little doubt that the conversation was being recorded. On the wall by the leather bound books, Eli noted the white humidity monitor fixed to the oak panelling. If that’s what it was.
Gathering intelligence through such devices as the monitor and analysing it were two entirely different disciplines. It was like a car and gasoline; one was no good without the other. That was one of the great Friday morning meeting conversations back home; the out-of-hours chat about the problem of too much intelligence produ
