Frau Egger stopped outside a high metal gate and appeared to press a bell. As Hanne walked past, a young man opened the gate and hurried the housekeeper in. In the brief moment before the gate closed, she spotted a drive leading to a small but smart-looking white house. She carried on walking up the hill. The house had been the last one on the narrow road, and now she was in the countryside, the wind sweeping down from the mountain. The hikers walked past her, wishing her a good morning.

She waited until they’d disappeared and then walked through the gorse to circle round until she had a view of the house. She noticed now that the trees on the lower slopes of the mountains reached as far as the rear of the house. Despite not being dressed for the rough terrain and the biting cold, she carried on. At the start of the treeline, a well-maintained wooden fence barred entry into the woods. She managed to climb over and felt safer once in the cover of the trees. She moved through them, closer to the house. Soon parts of a white building with a red-tiled roof became visible. As she paused to catch her breath, she noticed a wire fence just a few feet ahead of her; the top strand was barbed wire. Avoiding the fence, she moved further round towards what she guessed was the rear of the house. It was then that she spotted a tree with a long branch just four feet from the ground. She pulled a log across and managed to haul herself onto the branch, from where she had a much better view of the house.

She could see a high fence surrounding its perimeter, and beyond that a glimpse of snow-covered grass leading to the house. The windows were all shuttered. As she craned her neck, she caught a movement: a man carrying what appeared to be a sub-machine gun walking along the side of the house with a large black dog by his side.

She glanced at her watch. It was nearly ten o’clock. It would be some hours before Frau Egger would leave, but her visit had served its purpose. She was sure she’d identified the house. She had no doubt this was a stopping point on the Kestrel Line. She would return to the town and brief Captain Hart, and they’d return in force once it was dark.

At that moment, she became aware of a noise beneath her, and before she could look down, she felt a tap on her ankle and heard the click of a safety catch being released on a gun.

‘Climb down very slowly, please.’ It was a man’s voice, speaking German.

‘And when you reach the ground, keep your arms in the air.’

Chapter 20

Berlin, December 1945

It was the great paradox of Kommissar Iosif Gurevich’s war, and more particularly its aftermath.

He’d spent over four years either in enemy territory or fighting them every day. It was reasonable to assume that once the war was over, there’d be a sense of absolute relief and of pleasure at life returning to normal.