Hans Hinkler smoked most of his cigarette, staring at the Kripo officer as he did so, as if weighing up whether to trust him. ‘That evening, my boss, Herr Hoffmann, told me two Scandinavian gentlemen would be coming in. May I trouble you for another cigarette?’

He used the pause to think of what to say next. ‘He said I was to place them at a small table by the stairs and give them a menu. Then I was to inform him that they had arrived. I wasn’t to do any more than that. To be honest, I wouldn’t have thought any more of it but for the fact that Herr Hoffmann told me if all went well, he’d give me a bonus that evening. That was unusual, to say the least, because he’s tight with his money.’

‘Carry on, Hans.’

‘So that was what happened: the two men came in, I seated them and then Herr Hoffmann came over and said something to them about needing the table but there was a room upstairs where perhaps they’d be more comfortable, and they went up. After perhaps… I’m really not sure, maybe a bit over half an hour, I noticed a woman who’d been sitting by the window rush up the stairs. She came down a minute later and then hurried out, leaving payment for her meal on the table. Moments after she left, three or four men burst into the restaurant shouting, “Gestapo!” looked around and then ran upstairs. There was a commotion: one of them came down and ran out, and there was shouting and everything. All the customers left the restaurant as this was going on. There were probably around a dozen of them and no one likes to hang around when the Gestapo are getting busy.

‘Herr Hoffmann seemed to be very nervous. He told me to lock the doors and tidy up. Soon after that we heard shooting further down Donhoff Strasse, but we didn’t look out. About thirty minutes later, the Gestapo came in and took our details. They asked if either of us knew the names of the people upstairs, and we said no. That was it. When they left, Herr Hoffmann gave me a very generous bonus and said I mustn’t say a word about what happened, but I’m sure he knew something… he must have known they were coming in.’

‘Just a few more questions, Hans. You mentioned the woman who rushed upstairs and then left the restaurant.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Do you know who she was?’

‘No, sir, I’d not seen her there before.’

‘Can you describe her?’

‘Not really: a very elegant lady, spoke with a good Berlin accent.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Ah, yes!’ Hinkler looked pleased with himself; he’d obviously thought of something helpful. ‘She wore a hat – with a feather in it!’