Liliana Flores had returned to her room and locked the door. The night nurse had no idea if the two men threatening her employer were really who they said they were. What would the police want with Valentina Suarez, and why would they break into the house to interview her? Hard as she tried, she couldn’t remove Suarez’s piercing scream from her thoughts. Whatever was happening, it didn’t feel right. She leaned across her bedside table and picked up the internal phone. She dialled the front guardhouse and Javier answered after just one ring.

Vargas reached for his iPhone and scrolled through the photos until he found the black-and-white image of a young, vibrant Eva Braun who was showing off her new wedding ring to the camera. It was almost unbelievable that the old woman sitting in the wheelchair in front of him was the same person. He held the mobile with the frozen image close to her face. She turned her head away and refused to acknowledge it.

“Nice photo, Eva. You look so happy there. I guess, despite all the subterfuge, it was the one thing you couldn’t bear to give up. But why the need to pretend you were—”

The bedroom door flew open and Javier Hernández burst in, his AK47 locked and loaded. He pointed it directly at Hembury, who was only a few feet away from him. “Place your hands in the air and don’t move. Señora Suarez, are you okay? Have these men hurt you?”

Vargas was itching to make a move for his Beretta, but knew the guard could kill Hembury before he even had a chance to draw it.

Eva Braun summoned all her inner strength to push down on the armrests of her chair to raise herself into a standing position. As she digested the sudden turn of events, her mouth formed a malevolent grin. “Shoot them, Javier. They came here to rob and kill me.”

Hernández was just a security guard, not a trained killer, so for a brief moment he was stunned by Braun’s command. His eyeline darted from Vargas to his employer. That was all the time Hembury needed to act. He spun on the spot and took off like a guided missile. His left foot slammed into the right arm of the guard, who instinctively started firing his weapon as he fell backwards. The bullets sprayed into the ceiling and caught an ornate chandelier, which sent splinters of crystal across the room. Hernández rolled sideways and readjusted the AK47, aiming it directly at Hembury, who was also on the floor. A single gunshot rang out and struck the guard just above his right eye. His body slumped to the side, and the rifle slipped from his grasp, silently falling onto the thick-pile carpet.