‘Good morning,’ I say brightly.

‘Can I help you?’

‘Yes, I’m looking for my father.’

She smiles indulgently at me.

‘And who might your father be?’

‘Herr Heinrich.’

‘Oh!’ Her expression changes. ‘I’m sorry, Fraülein Heinrich, but I don’t believe he is here yet.’ She is flustered as she telephones through to Vati’s office.

‘I’m sorry,’ she says again after a few moments, ‘it’s as I thought. He isn’t here.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I just spoke with his secretary.’ The receptionist replaces the receiver and gives me a nervous smile. ‘He’s left a message saying he won’t be here until lunchtime.’ She hesitates, ‘Forgive me, but have you not just come from home?’

‘Yes, but…’ I look around me, then lean forward and whisper, ‘He’s been out on SS matters. Please could I speak directly with my father’s secretary. It is an emergency,’ I add.

‘Of course.’ The girl snatches up the phone again.

If I’m right, Vati must have someone to cover for him. His secretary fields his calls.

Vati’s middle-aged, bespectacled secretary appears. We shuffle to the side of the entrance hall, away from the ears of the receptionist.

‘I need to find my father,’ I begin. ‘Something bad has happened.’

‘I don’t know where he is right now. I can organise a car to take you home, Fräulein Heinrich, if that would help?’ Her voice is gentle, kindly.

‘Look,’ I speak quietly, urgently. ‘I know about Vati’s mistress and I don’t care about all that. I just need to find him as soon as possible. It’s very important. Just give me the address of the Fräulein. Please.’

The woman freezes and stares at me.

‘I won’t say it’s you who gave me the address. You won’t get into trouble,’ I urge. ‘I just need to see Vati. It’s very important.’

Still she stares at me, and suddenly I’m gripped by panic. Have I got it dreadfully wrong? Her lips are a thin, straight line.

‘She lives at Flat 3, Number 17, Schmiedestrasse. It’s just the other side of König Albert Park, towards Plagwitz.’

Exhale.

The first hurdle is overcome, but the bigger one must now be faced. Stay strong.

You can do this. For Walter.

*

I arrive outside the entrance of a newly built apartment block in a road filled with similar nondescript buildings. There is no doorman, but one of those new intercom devices is fitted outside the front door. I take a slow, deep breath then press the bell for flat 3. There is a buzz and after a pause, a voice sounds through the intercom. ‘Yes? Hello?’

Her voice.

‘Good morning, Fräulein Müller. I’m Herta Heinrich. I’m here to speak with my father.’

There is a long pause.

‘It’s an emergency,’ I add, into the crackling silence.

‘He isn’t here.’ Her words are clipped. ‘I don’t know why you would think—’

‘But he’s due here, isn’t he? Please may I wait for him?’

Another pause. I lean against the door, palms spread. There’s a buzz and the door clicks open.