‘Of course, blue-eyed Danish. As sinuous as an adder in spring. A month ago she came here a chambermaid. Now she is my mistress and ski partner. Next week she will be fired and on her way back to Copenhagen.’

‘Good man. Well, perhaps don’t fire her – just pass her on to me when you’ve done with her. In the meantime, you are about to repay me the favour you owe me.’

‘I thought you had already had your share.’

‘Really? Did you think that? Oh, Charlie, I can’t believe a man of your great intelligence ever thought such a thing.’

*

Three and a half hours later, Jung was closeted with Bormann in his private residence at the Wolfsschanze – the Führer’s headquarters deep in the heart of the Masurian forest in East Prussia. The building was a short walk from Hitler’s much larger bunker in the northern sector of the base, where the Führer directed the war.

The whole complex of buildings – massively reinforced concrete or brick and designed as a defensive fortification – was like a small town with its own roads, railway and airstrip. It was crawling with at least two thousand SS troops, senior Wehrmacht officers and guards. Everyone but the chiefs of staff and government officials carried sidearms and sub-machine guns. This was the control centre for the greatest invasion the world had ever known.

The base covered over fifteen hundred acres and was surrounded by a secure perimeter heavily fortified with wire and mines, and armed watchtowers, giving way to a dense forest of firs, with all roads in and out patrolled and protected by staff cars and Panzers. It was known as the ‘wolf’s lair’ in honour of the Führer, who had often enjoyed going by the sobriquet Wolf, particularly in the early days of his political career.

Artillery and anti-aircraft deployments were strategically positioned among the dozens of buildings. Amid these were the personal residences of the Wehrmacht high command and government members, conference rooms, map rooms and, further out, large barrack blocks. All had flat roofs camouflaged with bushes and undergrowth to meld in with the forest and prevent them being seen from the air.

One thing above all others was noted by all who came here: this place was built by men for men, with few women, and then only in the role of stenographers or nurses. But it was a paradox, for as well as the officers’ messes, there was a cinema here, cafés, even a Turkish bath. A swimming pool was under construction. The Wolfsschanze was designed for the long haul.

A rail track cut through the middle, dividing the north and south of the camp. On the short drive from the Rastenburg airfield, Jung had spotted Hitler’s private train, complete with its own flak battery, in a siding close to the camp’s private station. It was guarded by SS men.

‘Coffee, Charlie?’