"It was a glorious evening at Chevening, the official residence of Sir Geoffrey Howe, the Foreign Secretary. The old house basked in sunshine. Bees buzzed drowsily. Wood pigeons cooed in the distance. The world of war and terrorism seemed a thousand miles away. Suddenly a shot rang out. Security men rushed furiously into action. Then they relaxed. It was only Howe opening a bottle of Bollinger on the lawn."