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Chapters (61)
  1. Prologue
  2. Chapter One
  3. Chapter Two
  4. Chapter Three
  5. Chapter Four
  6. Chapter Five
  7. Chapter Six
  8. Chapter Seven
  9. Chapter Eight
  10. Chapter Nine
  11. Chapter Ten
  12. Chapter Eleven
  13. Chapter Twelve
  14. Chapter Thirteen
  15. Chapter Fourteen
  16. Chapter Fifteen
  17. Chapter Sixteen
  18. Chapter Seventeen
  19. Chapter Eighteen
  20. Chapter Nineteen
  21. Chapter Twenty
  22. Chapter Twenty-One
  23. Chapter Twenty-Two
  24. Chapter Twenty-Three
  25. Chapter Twenty-Four
  26. Chapter Twenty-Five
  27. Chapter Twenty-Six
  28. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  29. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  30. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  31. Chapter Thirty
  32. Chapter Thirty-One
  33. Chapter Thirty-Two
  34. Chapter Thirty-Three
  35. Chapter Thirty-Four
  36. Chapter Thirty-Five
  37. Chapter Thirty-Six
  38. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  39. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  40. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  41. Chapter Forty
  42. Chapter Forty-One
  43. Chapter Forty-Two
  44. Chapter Forty-Three
  45. Chapter Forty-Four
  46. Chapter Forty-Five
  47. Chapter Forty-Six
  48. Chapter Forty-Seven
  49. Chapter Forty-Eight
  50. Chapter Forty-Nine
  51. Chapter Fifty
  52. Chapter Fifty-One
  53. Chapter Fifty-Two
  54. Chapter Fifty-Three
  55. Chapter Fifty-Four
  56. Chapter Fifty-Five
  57. Chapter Fifty-Six
  58. Epilogue
  59. Author’s Note
  60. Acknowledgements
  61. About the Author

For a few seconds no one spoke and then the awkward silence was broken by William Ames who ran the New York office and was one of Franklin’s closest allies. His father, Kurt Fuchs, had been in charge of the final solution in Bulgaria, the Balkans and Hungary. Other than Richard Franklin, he was undoubtedly the shrewdest man in the room and the most obsequious.

“Richard, of course we would never question your judgement, but it concerns me you mentioned an LAPD detective. That feels a bit too close to home.”

“William, I can assure you he is on a fishing trip and knows nothing. But, should he become a real problem, he will be dealt with.”

Franklin turned away from Ames and addressed the whole room. “Gentlemen, I just hope none of you have been stupid or vain enough to have kept any compromising souvenirs of your own.”

The six directors shook their heads in unison.

Franklin’s mood noticeably softened, and he nodded his approval, allowing a sinister smile to break out on his face. “Good. Now, before you return home, I’ve arranged a private dinner for us in the Crown Room. The Maine lobster and Dungeness crab are the best in the bay. I’ll meet you downstairs at eight.”

He glanced at John, who had been sitting quietly on his right, relishing his father’s impressive demonstration of total power.

“John, let’s go back to my suite. I want to run through the latest campaign marketing plan.”

The presidential candidate stood to join his father and the two men exited the room in stony silence.

In the following thirty-six hours, across the globe, in Paris, London, Berlin, Rome, Tokyo and New York, a number of treasured personal mementos were destroyed by their perturbed owners.

Chapter Thirty-Two

28 March 1969

El Calafate

Adolf Hitler was dying. He was only three weeks away from his eightieth birthday but those closest to him knew it was a milestone he was never going to reach. For months, he had been languishing in his bed, a mere shadow of his former self. His bowel, stomach and liver were riddled with cancer and his mind was showing clear signs of dementia and cognitive deterioration, indicating a strand of Huntington’s disease. The only food he could keep down was Leberknödel, a traditional Austrian liver-flavoured broth he had loved since childhood. He was incapable of maintaining a coherent conversation and had not spoken with his wife or son for over four months. The only person allowed into his bedroom, other than his maid and physician, was Bormann.