There was a commotion from outside the office and a lot of shouting inside it.

‘This is her, Hanne – this is the woman.’

‘We need to handcuff her.’

‘We don’t have any cuffs.’

‘Then we need to tie her up. Have you searched her?’

Hanne walked over to the woman and told her to stand up, then started to frisk her. ‘Get some rope or something, Richard. You – put your hands down!’

Myrtle Carter held out her left arm but moved her right hand towards her mouth. Hanne grabbed it, and a struggle followed. By the time Prince realised what was happening, the two women were wrestling on the floor.

‘Oh my God, Richard – look, grab her arms!’

Myrtle Carter was writhing on the floor in agony, her hands clutching her throat, her eyes bulging and her face turning a shade of blue as she appeared to choke.

‘Get some water or something!’

‘It’s too late, Richard – I tried to get it out but it was too late. It must have been a suicide pill.’

Bartholomew and the FSS men entered the first floor office on Viale Miramare with their guns drawn and a scene of chaos and carnage laid out before them. Had Prince not been at the entrance holding his hands up and shouting who he was, he was sure there’d have been more shooting.

He was aware of Bartholomew asking what the hell was going on, and Evans from the FSS shouting and threatening the Slovenians, and Hanne saying something about them all being dead.

A few hours later, they were in the Field Security Section office on Via San Lazzaro, and Bartholomew – still wearing his raincoat – thrust the headphones and microphone at Prince.

‘Mr Gilbey wants to speak with you.’

‘I struggle to see how you’re going to manage to come up with a plausible explanation, Richard, but I imagine you’re going to attempt one?’ The line was surprisingly clear, and Prince noticed that while Gilbey sounded annoyed, he didn’t sound furious. His tone was more one of resignation, and he had called him Richard.

‘In what sense, sir?’

‘In the sense, Prince, that I ordered you and Hanne to return to London and you chose to disobey that order, and now we have a bloodbath in Trieste to try and sort out.’

‘An opportunity presented itself to catch Friedrich Steiner, sir, along with Myrtle Carter and Edward Palmer. That was our original mission. I know it would be preferable for them to have been captured alive, but at least they’ve not escaped. I don’t know about Bormann…’

‘Bartholomew said the man dressed as a priest isn’t Martin Bormann – he doesn’t look remotely like him. He’s dead too, isn’t he?’

‘So I believe, sir.’

There was a long pause, and as the line filled with static, Prince asked Gilbey if he was still there.

‘And I daresay if I ask where the hell Friedrich Steiner is, you’ll say you have no idea, eh?’