The commissar was smiling and seemed relaxed. ‘I need to give you a message and I wanted to be sure you received it and understood it.’

The colonel didn’t like the way the Russian behaved, as if he were at a social event. He narrowed his eyes, resisting the urge to tell him to get on with it. The man looked like a Jew: he was amazed how many of them there were in the Red Army in Berlin. It was as if they’d come there to gloat. He nodded for him to continue.

‘I would be grateful if you could pass this message on to a Major Barrow of the Counter Intelligence Corps in Munich.’

The Italian American began to cough.

‘I am not sure if you’d wish to write this down. Major Barrow recently established a relationship with a Wolfgang Steiner. That’s W-O-L—’

‘I know how the hell to spell Wolfgang, thank you.’

‘Wolfgang Steiner would like you to know that he has reflected on his decision to work for the United States. He has decided that peace in Europe is best served by cooperating with the Soviet Union. He is now resident in the Soviet sector, where he intends to remain.’ Iosif Gurevich smiled and removed a pack of cigars from his pocket, offering them to the two Americans. It took all the colonel’s willpower not to accept one.

The Italian American said very well, he’d pass the message on just in case anyone had had any dealings with this gentleman, whom he’d never heard of.

‘You think we’re fools, do you?’ The colonel was red-faced, squaring up the Russian, who was noticeably taller than him.

‘In what way, Colonel?’

‘You think we’ll believe that crap about this guy deciding to work for you? You abducted him, didn’t you?’

The commissar smiled and lit his cigar, blowing a cloud of brown-tinged smoke above the American’s head as he announced that the meeting was over and he hoped they’d have a good evening.

Wolfgang Steiner had turned up at the patch of wasteland in Wedding close to four thirty that afternoon.

Willi Kühn had been in a terrible state: at one stage on the Wednesday morning he had refused to go through with it, and Gurevich had told him that in that case he would be arrested for assisting the escape of a Nazi. It had all turned very unpleasant until Kühn said he’d do it if they told him what precautions they’d be taking.

Gurevich had decided not to risk sending too many Russians into a western sector of the city. Fyodorov would be there to keep an eye on things from a distance, but otherwise they were relying on one of their German teams.

He’d very much enjoyed Fyodorov’s subsequent account of what had happened. Kühn had been so nervous as he paced around the wasteland that at one point he’d stumbled over, and Fyodorov had been worried he might leave. Two of their German team were disguised as old ladies collecting firewood in the distance. When they’d checked the patch of ground that morning, they’d discovered a cellar in the middle of it covered in rubble, and had managed to clear it enough to conceal three of their men there.