Richard Franklin eased forward in his upholstered chair and glanced around the room, making eye contact with each of the seven men present. The covert meeting for senior management of the Franklin Corporation normally took place once a year on 20 April, to mark the Führer’s birthdate. It was always held in a different setting and no minutes were ever taken. This year, it had been called three months early and, on this occasion, the venue was a private suite at the eminent Fairmont Hotel, which was perched at the top of Nob Hill in San Francisco.

Along with Richard’s son, John, the other six directors were also direct descendants of prominent Nazis who had escaped justice and created new lives in South America, under the cover of fresh identities. They all knew Franklin’s secret but, equally, had secrets of their own when it came to their lineage. The small group of men who formed this clandestine board were the real power base of the Franklin Corporation and understood the true narrative of the organisation. All of them held the title senior vice president and had flown in from around the world as soon as they received the summons from Franklin.

“Unfortunately some sensitive documents are in circulation that could seriously compromise the corporation and all of us personally. Of course, I’ve taken extreme measures to retrieve them, but, until they are back in my hands, if any of you are contacted by a lieutenant from the LAPD called Hembury, or a Chief Inspector Vargas from the Buenos Aires Police Department, don’t take the call and inform me immediately.”

For a few seconds the men digested the information and then one of them broke the silence. Patrick Strauss, aka Hans Schroeder, was the oldest man in the room, son of the infamous “Executioner of the Jews”, Klaus Schroeder, who once held the ominous title in the Third Reich of head of concentration camp operations.

“Richard, how the hell did you let this happen and what do these documents reveal?”

Franklin’s face turned claret and the veins on the left side of his forehead began to twitch. He slowly stood from his chair and glared directly at Strauss. “Remember who you are talking to, Patrick. Many years ago, Martin decided to preserve certain items that he believed should be kept for posterity.”

He paused to achieve maximum impact with his next statement. His voice dropped to a whisper, forcing everyone in the room to lean forward and focus on his every word. “None of you are fit to question his reasoning and if a mistake has been made, it’s mine. The materials in question came to light in Argentina following a safe-deposit bank raid and Matias Paz and his team are tracking them down.”