‘And what is the story?’

‘I’m sorry, dear – yes, where was I?’ He smiled at Hanne and shifted his chair closer.

‘Axmann?’

‘That’s right: according to this account, the group escaped from the bunker and emerged somewhere near Friedrichstrasse station. Axmann last saw them by Weidendammer Bridge trying to get to Lehrter station along the railway line. Martin was with one other person: they went in one direction, Axmann in another. He said there were explosions all around them: they may have been killed, they may have got away.’ He held out his hands to indicate that that was it. ‘This all came as news to Steiner. He’d obviously hoped I’d have more concrete news. He left soon after that.’

‘May I ask you a question, Willi?’

‘Of course you can, dear. Where are you from – your accent…?’

‘Near Flensburg.’

‘I spent a pleasant holiday in Schleswig-Holstein many years ago.’

Hanne smiled patiently. ‘When you first told Paul about Kestrel, you said Bormann gave you some details about the route of the Kestrel Line: is that correct?’

‘It is, yes.’

‘Which I think starts in Frankfurt am Main and then goes to another important point: Villach in Austria?’

‘I seem to recall that, yes.’

‘And according to what you told Paul, the final destination before South America begins with T?’

She noticed that Kühn was staring at his legs, and it was a while before he looked up. ‘Yes, I think you’re right – it did begin with T.’

Hanne leaned forward, placing her hand on his knee. ‘What does T stand for, Willi?’

He patted her hand and smiled before his face creased into a frown. ‘Now that is a good question. Do you know, I can’t for the life of me remember.’

‘Was it in Italy?’

He frowned again. ‘I’m not sure: it could be – or maybe Spain?’

‘Turin, perhaps?’

‘Now you mention it, yes – I think it was.’

They went through his story one more time before it was time for Kühn to leave. He paused in the doorway, turning round as he buttoned his coat. ‘There is something I meant to tell you that may be of help. I asked Steiner how I should contact him if Martin got in touch, and he gave me a telephone number to memorise. I wrote it down as soon as I got home.’

‘Do you still have that number, Willi?’ Hanne had moved closer, close enough for Kühn to smell her scent.

‘Do you know what? I accidentally used it to light my pipe that same evening!’

‘No!’

He burst out laughing and put his arm round her waist, giving it a squeeze. ‘I joke, of course, my dear. I have the number on a piece of paper here in my wallet.’

Hoffman and Hanne stood at the window watching Willi Kühn as he emerged from the building and pushed his way past two beggars before hurrying up the Kurfürstendamm, glancing behind him as he did so.