‘I see.’

‘Emmy Göring is also jealous of Eva, though she has never been allowed to meet her. She feels her position as First Lady of the Reich has been usurped by this silly girl from the photographic shop.’

Wilde was intrigued; this was a story of intertwined domestic rivalries far removed from the thunder of war and international politics, but conceivably its influence would be felt around the globe.

‘By chance, Hermann Göring ran into Hitler’s sister and her new husband on a visit to Dresden. He invited them to Carinhall, and they accepted with enthusiasm. A few weeks ago – at the end of October – they duly arrived, and Angela enjoyed a few glasses of Schnapps. She drinks rarely, but when she does, she doesn’t fare well – this has always been her curse.’

Wilde sipped his coffee.

‘She told the Görings all about the events of ten years ago – her daughter’s pregnancy, her own indiscretion in drink when she revealed too much to the up-and-coming Martin Bormann, her certainty that Bormann then killed Geli. From there, you can work it out for yourself, Tom.’

‘But how did Bormann get wind of these recent events?’

‘Who knows? A mole in the Göring camp, perhaps? A bug in the wall at Carinhall? They all spy on each other, these top Nazis. Or perhaps it was another indiscretion by Hitler’s simpleton sister?’

‘But in the meantime, Hermann Göring saw an opportunity?’

‘Yes, for peace.’

Wilde wanted to laugh, but managed to restrain himself. The very thought of it! Hermann the great warrior desired peace, did he? No, Hermann Göring wanted nothing more than to do down his arch-enemy Martin Bormann. It was clear: Hermann Göring, fat and slippery as a whale, had used the British and American secret services for his own ends. And Sunny Somerfeld had been his conduit.

Wilde looked pensive, as if Sunny’s story had finally convinced him.

‘Well, that helps a great deal. I’m beginning to understand things. Look, I think I’ll take Klara for a walk. She needs some fresh air – and it’ll give me time to do some more thinking.’

She frowned. ‘Is that wise?’

‘Why not?’

‘I think I should come, too.’

He managed a smile. ‘Fine by me.’

But it wasn’t. Somehow he needed to lose her.

And there was something else. Before Cashbone left the house, Wilde had seen something which sent an electric current racing through his body, though it lasted only a second. It was the way he took Sunny’s hand and seemed to give it a little squeeze. Had Wilde been mistaken in what he saw? If not, then formality had turned to familiarity at a remarkable pace.

Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28