When Wilde entered the room and saw the prisoner, he understood why Minsky had prepared him for the worst. Before coming here, he had examined the OSS files and discovered that Hans Fritzsche was a Rhinelander of forty-five years, but the man who struggled to his feet in front of him looked ten or fifteen years older than that. His shoulders were bony and cramped forward and he was unhealthily pale. His eyes rose to meet the newcomer, large and wide and entreating.

Minsky clicked his heels. ‘And now, Professor, I leave you to do your interview alone. I know you are a professional, so I am sure you don’t need me listening in. Just tap twice on the door if you require assistance.’

Wilde thanked him. He couldn’t help being amused. Did Minsky think him a fool or naive? Or was it just a joke? He knew very well that Minsky would be listening in. Every word would be recorded, typed up and sent up the line to whoever in Moscow had authorised this meeting. Wilde took the seat opposite the prisoner and addressed him in German. ‘Good day, Herr Fritzsche,’ he said. ‘Please sit down.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Have you been told who I am?’

‘No, sir. I have been told nothing.’

‘I am Professor Thomas Wilde, representing the American and British governments in their quest to discover the true fate of Adolf Hitler, and I have been given permission by our Soviet friends to talk with you, as one of the last of the senior men to leave the Führerbunker in May of this year. Are you willing to answer some questions?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good.’ Wilde gave the man a brief smile. He was glad that he hadn’t brought Heck here. Fritzsche might not react well to intimidation. Compliance could turn to defiance when confronted with hostility.

‘To begin with, then, why were you in the bunker?’

‘It is a question I have asked myself many times. Dr Goebbels insisted I be there, but I am not sure why he needed me. I wasn’t actually in the Führerbunker the whole time, however. Much of my work could only be carried out in the remains of the ministry nearby – so I had to take my life in my hands to run between them.’

‘You were chief of radio propaganda?’

‘Yes, sir. I was director of the department.’

‘And you also made propaganda broadcasts. Were you still doing this in the last days?’

‘The opportunities became fewer and fewer. You could say I was the voice of Berlin, so as the city began to fall, my role diminished.’

‘The voice of Berlin? You were the voice of Nazism. Isn’t that the unvarnished truth?’

Firtzsche hesitated before answering.

‘Well?’