‘Our killer, Mr Young, has a contact in England.’

‘Indeed. Guy Liddell, director of B Division, has taken on the investigation personally. His boys and Special Branch are combing their files for likely fifth columnists. Perhaps in this area. Certainly BP has produced a couple of decrypts from radio messages intercepted near here. There must be an agent, but he keeps a very low profile, communication infrequent.’

‘BP?’

‘Bletchley Park.’

‘Ah, of course. The code and cipher place. What do the decrypts say?’

‘Nothing to do with you, Wilde. Nothing so far, anyway. But we do have more on our killer. Mavis Triston, the maid he molested in Sevenoaks, said he introduced himself as the Youngs’ son. Mavis had worked for the Youngs for eight years and had no idea they had a son. There had never been any mention of him, nor were there any pictures in the house. But the police did find an old bundle of letters in a trunk in the attic, from a boy named Charles at prep school, then public school, addressed to his mother in Bangalore. In some ways they were typical letters – please send money; when will I see you? – but they became gradually angrier. The last one was dated Hamburg 1920. It bore only one word. Goodbye.’

‘That’s rather chilling.’

‘After that the trail dies. One must suppose he made a life for himself in Germany with a new identity. An English-speaking public-school boy . . . not a bad cover for a Nazi agent. He took the opportunity of getting even with the parents he hated, I suppose.’

Wilde topped up their glasses.

‘Not sure how much it helps us, though. I’m more interested in the possibility of finding his contact. This doesn’t go away until we’ve dealt with the man, so we have to find him. It would be a damned sight easier if you could get Cashbone off my back, though, Eaton. Then we could protect Klara properly and concentrate all our resources on Bormann’s man.’

‘You seem to have done a good job so far.’

‘But how did Young get the idea of Rupert and Edie Weir – how did he find their address?’

Even before he finished the question, a horrible possibility arose in his mind. Young had been at Cornflowers, and had stolen a photograph of Wilde and Lydia and Johnny. What if he had taken something else? The address book on the telephone stand in the hall? Wilde hadn’t noticed it missing, but nor did he remember it being there.

‘Oh my God, Eaton – I think the bastard has my address book. Anyone in it is now in danger.’

Harry Taylor’s address must surely be in the book.

Chapter 35

CHAPTER 35

‘Oh, you look like a very strong young man, won’t you help me, dear?’