‘And there’s still no way of tracing it?’

‘The only possible way is if we were to intercept the number on an outgoing call, but the chances of that happening are so remote as to be impossible.’

‘Thank you, Leonid – I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that makes sense. So you see what our problem is, Kühn? We want to discuss some matters with Herr Steiner and it looks like the only way we can make contact with him is through you. So take your coat off and come over here – in fact, you can sit at my desk.’

‘And what do you want me to do?’

‘To make a bloody telephone call!’

Frau Moser was on the landing before him, standing by her bedroom door in her enormous flannelette bed dress with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

‘It’s all right, Frau Moser, let me answer it.’

‘Who calls at eleven o’clock at night?’

Wolfgang Steiner told her – a bit too sharply on reflection – to go back into her room, and hurried downstairs into the draughty hall.

‘Hello?’

‘Hello… it’s Willi.’

Steiner rubbed his brow. He’d been woken from a deep sleep and was still a bit dazed. When it suddenly registered who Willi was, he was shocked, not least that he was using his proper name. He should have agreed a code name. ‘Willi, yes… Don’t use my name… Is everything all right? Where are you?’

‘I’m in Berlin. Look, I’m sorry to call you so late, but I thought you ought to know I’ve heard from your friend Graf – you’ll recall he was a former colleague of mine… Graf?’

‘Yes, yes, Graf… I know… Where is he?’

A pause: Steiner wondered whether Bormann could be with Kühn. It sounded as if someone was.

‘He’s here in Berlin – he made contact with me yesterday and I saw him today and he instructed me to contact you: he wants you to come and rescue him. He says you have to, only you, and—’

‘How do I know this is true? Is there any proof?’

‘Do you think I’d have called you if it wasn’t true? Our friend – Graf – is desperate: he was seriously injured in May and has been recovering, but the place where he was staying is no longer safe and now he feels well enough to travel. He insisted I call you. Where he is now, he can only stay for another day or two.’

Steiner felt all his anxieties sweep back. He leaned against the wall and tried to gather his thoughts. This was either a trap and he should ignore it, or it was true and at last he had an opportunity – an honour indeed – to rescue the Reichsleiter. If only this had happened before he’d gone to Munich. If he hurried, there’d be time to get Bormann on the boat from Trieste to South Africa: it would be the most enormous act of service to the cause. But he realised that whatever he decided, he needed to do it now. He took a deep breath.