‘Thank you, Herr Meerbach,’ Isidore said with the due formality of a man addressing his boss. He gave a nod of the head to Alatha. ‘Countess . . .’

‘Good morning, Isidore,’ she replied with a fond smile, since she had known him since he was a boy.

Like his father before him, Isidore had been the von Meerbach family lawyer. Before taking on that role he had fought with distinction in the First World War and been awarded the Blue Max, Germany’s highest award for gallantry. Alatha had been disgusted by the way her oldest son had treated such a loyal servant to their family and country.

For Saffron, ‘Max’ was also the code name by which she had known Isidore when they first met in pre-war Switzerland, barely twenty-four hours after her encounter with Gerhard. It was Isidore’s account of how Gerhard had helped the Solomons family escape Germany, in defiance of his brother’s will, that had made Saffron certain that she had found the right man.

‘So,’ Isidore said, ‘I have been asked to consider the current state of the Meerbach Motor Works, assess its future prospects and give my advice as to the best course for the future. But, however distressing this may be, I must begin with the man who is not here – Count Konrad von Meerbach. No one knows where he is now, or even whether he is still alive. The same is true of his second wife, Francesca, who is also known by the nickname Chessi.’

‘Yes, when we were best friends at school . . . Chessi and Saffy,’ Saffron said sadly, more to herself than the rest of the table.

Isidore glanced at her and then continued, ‘Both have disappeared. The count remains a wanted man, a pariah, regarded as a war criminal by the Allied powers and the state of Israel.’ Isidore paused for a moment and looked around the table. ‘I apologise if my description seems too harsh.’

‘On the contrary, it is no more than the truth,’ Gerhard said. ‘Please, carry on.’

‘Very well. I have been able to establish that the company’s reserves of foreign currency were removed from its bank accounts in the two weeks before the end of the war in Europe. At around the same time, a number of the most important works in the art collection here at Schloss Meerbach were cut from their frames and removed, and have not been seen since. It is possible that other members of the Motor Works board took the company’s money. Allied troops may have stolen the artworks. But the most likely explanation is that the count and countess fled the country, taking the money and canvases with them.’

‘So he’s a thief as well as everything else,’ Trudi hissed.