‘May I ask what that is, Admiral?’

‘She will ensure Palmer does not pose a problem. In the meantime, gentlemen, my advice to you is to disappear for a while, at least until we know what’s happened.’

‘But Admiral… the gallery…’ Ridgeway’s voice trembled. He looked petrified, and Bourne was little better, anxiously wiping his forehead and apparently on the verge of tears.

‘Pull yourselves together and forget about the bloody gallery and your miserable paintings. I presume you made arrangements for such an eventuality, as I told you to?’

The pair nodded uncertainly.

‘You’re to leave now. Call me in the middle of next week and I’ll let you know if the coast is clear.’

‘And if it’s not?’

The Admiral stood up and started to button his overcoat. ‘If the coast isn’t clear, then I very much doubt I’ll be answering the telephone.’

Chapter 29

Italy, December 1945

They slipped away from Klagenfurt at around a quarter past three on the Wednesday morning, not long after Ludwig had appeared in their hotel room. He’d waited in the corridor while Prince and Hanne dressed, during which time they had an urgent whispered conversation, with Prince worried that defying orders like this could be regarded as desertion – or even treason. ‘What do you think, Hanne?’

‘If you’re so concerned, then let’s call the whole thing off. Tell him we’re not going.’

‘But do you think we should go?’

‘Of course I do! There’s a group of Nazis in Trieste and we shouldn’t allow them to go free. I just hope it’s not too late.’

‘But going off with the Russians like this…’

‘Richard – how are we going to get into trouble for trying to catch Nazis?’

Ludwig led them to the end of the corridor and up a small flight of stairs, where a ladder attached to the wall led to a trapdoor to the roof. Klagenfurt was quite still and eerily silent, with just enough moonlight for them to see where they were going. They followed him over the rooftops until they were well away from the hotel, and only then did they descend: a precarious climb down a drainpipe, a short drop onto a terrace followed by a six-foot jump onto a pile of rubble, from where he led them the short distance to an alley where his black Daimler was parked.

He told them to sit in the back of the car and pointed to two large blankets. ‘Cover yourselves, pretend to be asleep.’

‘But there’s a curfew: don’t you think we’re going to be a bit conspicuous?’

Ludwig shrugged and said not to worry: Mach dir keine Sorgen. When he started the engine, the sound seemed to reverberate throughout the town.

They drove through the dark streets, Ludwig appearing to be quite relaxed as he hummed a tune. He kept muttering Mach dir keine Sorgen over and over to himself, and then chuckling.

On the outskirts, they came to a British Army checkpoint. Ludwig stopped humming and reminded them to pretend to be asleep. The checkpoint was remarkably straightforward. Prince and Hanne clutched each other tightly, their hearts banging so loudly they were sure the soldiers must have heard. They heard a voice ask in English-accented German for papers, which Ludwig must have had ready, because the soldier quickly said everything was in order and they could carry on.