It took a while for the sound of the footsteps of two men as they marched across a courtyard and into Block D to become apparent. The silence was disturbed by a series of doors being unlocked and then secured again, and the same footsteps moving along the stone floor until they reached an office on the second floor.

Kiselyov, the officer in charge of that section, was waiting nervously when the two men walked in. He stubbed out his cigarette and stood to attention, but the governor told him to sit. Kiselyov recognised the other man, the commissar from the NKGB headquarters in Mitte, no less, the man who’d turned up a week earlier with the two visitors who were neither Russian nor German.

‘How is he, Comrade?’

Despite the invitation to sit, Kiselyov had remained standing, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. ‘Prisoner Schweitzer spent the evening writing his final letters, Comrade sir. He was checked by the medical officer at six o’clock and then his evening meal was brought to him, but I’m told he didn’t eat any of it. I can’t say I blame him, I—’

‘Get on with it, Kiselyov.’

‘Yes, Comrade! He asked to see a Roman Catholic priest, but this was refused. The guards monitoring him in his cell say he has been agitated all evening, pacing up and down, crying and hitting the wall on occasion. He has been sick a number of times. In accordance with your instructions, he was given a mild sleeping draught about one hour ago, and when I checked with the guard five minutes ago, I was told that he is now asleep.’

‘Good, all as planned.’ The governor turned to Gurevich. ‘Are you satisfied, Commissar?’

‘I think so: you know what to say to him?’

‘Yes, sir, but what if he declines the opportunity?’

Gurevich helped himself to a cigarette from Kiselyov’s desk and raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘Do you think he’s mad, Comrade Orlov? Five hours before he’s due to die? Come on, let’s go.’

The cell door burst open at the same time as the main lights were turned on, and Kiselyov shouted to the prisoner to wake up. Alphonse Schweitzer woke with a start and sat bolt upright on his narrow prison bed, letting out a yelp of fear as he did so. His shirt was undone and stained, and he stared at Kiselyov, the governor and the two guards in absolute terror.

‘Surely it’s not time, is it? Please… it must be too early… I asked to see a priest.’

Kiselyov told him to stand in the presence of the governor. Orlov nodded at one of the guards to handcuff the prisoner, who was now shaking so much it seemed as if he was having convulsions, while at the same time making a whimpering sound. He was trying to hold up his trousers and not succeeding. In the few days since the governor had last seen him, he seemed to have shrunk to half his size and looked twice as old.