I looked around. A meticulously neat room, as one might have suspected. A prayer book on the table beside the bed. A silver-backed hairbrush, small box of hairpins and powder compact on the dressing table. But no clothing draped over the backs of chairs. No shoes left beside the bed. On the table by the window was a pad and envelopes, a half-written letter and what looked like a scrapbook. I glanced at the letter. It was in what was probably Russian and I couldn’t read that language, although I could make out the word “Mama.” A letter to her mother, then. And the scrapbook contained newspaper cuttings pertaining to her cousin’s wedding, some cut from that morning’s papers.

On one wall was a huge carved oak wardrobe. I opened it, and my nose wrinkled at the smell of mothballs and stale scent. She had almost as few items of clothing as I did. Either she had not brought many garments with her or she was the proverbial poor relative, as I was. One couldn’t help feeling sorry for her and I suspected that coming to England to be part of her cousin’s wedding was a very important happening in a dull life.

I examined the items of clothing. All good quality but not of the latest fashion and showing signs of wear. At the back was a good-looking fur coat that caught my eye. I stroked the softness of the fur. Not mink. Not sable. Something more rugged. Beaver, maybe? Could it possibly be Bobo’s missing overcoat? I felt for pockets and thrust my hand into one, finding nothing more than a handkerchief. The other contained a bus ticket in a foreign language and a couple of hairpins. I removed the coat from its hanger to see if there was a name inside. There was a manufacturer’s label. It said Silbermann, Berlin.

A lot of effort for nothing. I didn’t think Bobo would go to Berlin for her clothes. I was just hanging it up when to my horror I heard a noise. Footsteps coming down the hall. The door handle started to turn. For a second I froze, not knowing what to do. Then I plunged into the wardrobe and pulled the door to behind me, still clutching the heavy fur coat. I heard Irmtraut’s heavy tread come into the room. I eased the wardrobe door open a fraction more so that I could see out. I just prayed she hadn’t come upstairs to take a nap or to change for dinner. I watched her go over to the table and pick up the letter and envelope. She was heading back for the door again when she looked in my direction.

“Ach!” she said in an annoyed voice, strode over to the wardrobe and shut the door firmly. I heard a lock click into place as I was plunged into complete darkness.