‘We have it from an excellent source.’

‘Russians – you trust the Russians?’

‘More than I’d trust a Nazi!’ Gilbey was shouting now, red-faced and clearly furious, and on the word ‘Nazi’, he slammed his hand on the table.

‘Bormann’s probably dead.’

‘There’s no proof of that, Joe’ said Sir Roland, speaking softly in an effort to calm things down. ‘We hear what you say regarding Friedrich Steiner, and my advice to Tom, should he seek it, would be for us to refer the matter up, but I would suggest you don’t hold out a lot of hope: we have a first-class team on the trail of Steiner and the Kestrel Line, and they’re very close to finding them.’

Joseph Jenkins shook his head and gathered up his papers. ‘It’s too late for that; I’m afraid. I was trying to be courteous. Ambassador Winant has already met with Foreign Secretary Bevin, and he agreed to our request. I think you’ll be ordered to call off the hunt any minute now.’

Messrs Bourne and Ridgeway had reached the limit of their endurance. They struggled to regain their breath as they crouched by the high laurel hedge while at the same time not taking their eyes off the side door of the large Victorian house.

They’d spotted a thin line of light behind a curtained bay window, and another light in a top-floor room, but the house was otherwise dark, its broad shape just visible in the half-moon, its array of chimneys silhouetted like turrets against the mottled sky. The world around them was as silent as the churchyard they’d crept through some twenty minutes earlier. An animal scurried behind them, and high above came the soft call of an owl.

Bourne was still breathing heavily and Ridgeway was concerned. ‘Are you all right, Bourne – you sound in difficulty?’

‘It’s the asthma. Spending the best part of an hour creeping through the countryside in the bloody damp isn’t good for it. Christ knows why people live in the middle of nowhere. And I’ve cut my hand on the brambles.’

‘I have too, and I fear I may have torn my trousers. Do you think we should go in? We’ve been waiting long enough. He said to be here by eight, and it’s already a quarter past.’

‘Our instructions were very clear, Ridgeway: to park at the back of the village pub and work our way through the woods, then take the footpath by the side of the field and enter the garden through the back. We’re to wait here until we see a light go on over that side door. We have to be patient, and in any case, it gives me a chance to get my breath back.’

Ten minutes later, a weak yellow light flickered into life above the side door and the two men walked nervously towards it. The door was unlocked as they’d been told it would be, and they moved carefully along a dark corridor until they came to a door opening into a kitchen area. Their host was standing there, nodding but saying nothing by way of greeting. They followed him into the library, where the heavy curtains were drawn. The room was lit by two lamps, one at either end.