‘Not so. What you have to ask yourself, Herr Fabel, is who the source of that information was and if they have a vested interest in misleading you. Vadim is indeed one of Vitrenko’s men – Vadim Redchenko – and Klugmann will have had contact with him as the principal intermediary. But Klugmann had three separate meetings with Vitrenko. What the final outcome was, I can only guess. But the evidence of Vitrenko’s decision is bloodily apparent.’

‘You’re saying that Vitrenko is committing these horrific murders?’

‘I am certain of it, Herr Hauptkommissar.’

Friday 20 June, 9.25 p.m. Altona, Hamburg.

Anna had managed to chat with MacSwain in a relaxed manner, but her occasional casual glances away from his profile and out through the side window or windscreen of the Porsche had been like the casting out of safety lines, each time anchoring on a road sign or a landmark. They were heading towards the Elbe. Where the hell was he taking her?

‘I’m intrigued,’ Anna said, levering as much calm into her voice as she could muster.

MacSwain smiled knowingly. ‘I have something rather special in mind for you, Sara. I promise you this is something you won’t forget …’

Paul Lindemann winced as if MacSwain’s phrase, heard through Anna’s wire, had stung him. He turned to Maria who sat next to him in the back of the Mercedes panel van. ‘I don’t like this at all …’

‘There’s nothing been said or done yet that suggests we should intervene. Anna’s looking after herself all right. And we’re tight on their tail. Try to relax.’

The blank stare Paul gave Maria did not suggest that he was in any way convinced or reassured by her comments. He lifted the radio mouthpiece to his lips and demanded an update from both close-surveillance vehicles. They both confirmed that they had good and close visual contact.

‘The target has just turned into Helgoländer, heading south,’ reported the radio voice of the lead surveillance car. ‘We seem to be heading towards the Landungsbrücken …’

Paul adjusted his hold on the radio, as if a tighter grip would squeeze more satisfactory information from it.

‘Kastor four-one to Kastor four-two …’ the first car called the second, ‘I’m going to pull back now. Overtake and take up the lead. Kastor four-four …’ He now called one of the motorcyclists. ‘See if you can get ahead of him and down onto the Landungsbrücken …’

Another silence.

‘Kastor four to Kastor four-four …’ Paul’s stretched thread of patience snapped once more: ‘report …’

‘We’ve turned onto the Landungsbrücken …’ he paused and then added with a puzzled tone: ‘… we seem to be heading towards Baumwall and the Niederhafen … or the Hanseboothafen … the target is now on Johannisbollwerk.’

Anna felt the knot in her gut pull tighter. MacSwain turned off the main city harbour road and onto the pontoons that separated the bays of the Niederhafen and the Schiffbauerhafen, which offered berths for exhibitors and visitors to the Hanseboot Boat Show. He parked the Porsche and came round to her side, holding the door open for her to get out. Anna sat still for a moment. She could hear the creaking, tinkling and ringing sounds from the forest of yacht masts around her.