‘This is ridiculous,’ John said. ‘I’m a schoolteacher. Not a physicist.’

‘But you have the ear of a physicist’s daughter, and she is sympathetic to our cause.’

‘You seem very sure,’ John said. ‘How do you know that?’

Anatoly nodded, that same foxy nod he’d given the Russian major at the bridge in Berlin.

‘You’re bluffing,’ John said. ‘You know nothing about her except that she wants to rid the world of nuclear weapons.’ He caught Anatoly’s eye, fixed his gaze. ‘And that includes the Soviet Union. If you think she’s a route to her father, you must be mad. She won’t even talk to him.’

The cigarette tar hissed as Anatoly stubbed it out, and John heard him swallow the last of his vodka.

‘She is your conduit. Your only route.’ He stood up, walked over to the window and looked out, before sidling back into his seat.

‘Her father was on our wanted list at the end of the war. He should, by rights, have come to us.’ John heard him sniff. ‘We found out too late that Lieselotte was his daughter. We had no idea who she was at the time. Didn’t care who any of them were. If they had a pussy, we fucked them. Sweet revenge. What is it you say? Revenge is a dish best served cold.’ He laughed. ‘Cold revenge.’

You bastard.

‘Did you rape her?’ John said, fury rising so fast, so hard he had to hold his chair in case he threw himself at Anatoly, hands on his throat, squeezing out his breath. ‘Did you kill her?’

Anatoly smirked, puffed through his lips. ‘Does it matter now? Does it make a difference?’

‘Yes.’ John grabbed his glass, smashed it on the floor where it snapped in two, sharp shards for the grabbing.

‘Then no,’ Anatoly said. ‘But I know who did.’ He leaned forward, picked up the broken glass, placed it on the arm of his chair, out of John’s reach.

‘Piece by piece, a puzzle fell into place,’ Anatoly went on. ‘We kicked ourselves about losing Lieselotte, but once we knew who she was, I knew she had a sister, dressed as a boy, called Bert.’

He sniffed again, and John saw the glint of his cufflinks as he wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

‘Bette. Bert. Betty. I knew Bert, did you know that? I knew she wasn’t a boy, too. But Bert disappeared.’ He tapped his leg. ‘Not before she did me serious harm.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t blame her, really. But she must pay for her behaviour. Everyone must face up to the wrongs they have done in the past, don’t you agree? Take the punishment like a man.’ He laughed. ‘Bette. You.’

John heard the quiet pull of the stopper on the bottle, the glug as Anatoly poured himself another drink.