Minsky pulled out ID papers and showed them to Wilde. ‘My new identity. Tell them I am Sergei Borisov, one of the lawyers representing the Soviet Union in the forthcoming war crimes trials.’

‘Sergei Borisov?’

‘From now on, I am plain Sergei Borisov, lawyer.’

Wilde studied the papers. He didn’t know if they would appear genuine to a Soviet checkpoint, but they certainly seemed professionally produced. ‘You didn’t fix this overnight.’

Minsky smiled. ‘My job has its advantages. I have known this day was coming for many weeks, so I made preparations.’

‘And was I part of these preparations? Is that what your assistance has been about?’

‘Such a cynic, and you a renowned professor of history.’

Wilde didn’t think of himself as cynical, but realistic. He looked Minsky up and down. Without his uniform, he did look quite different. The bald head and the proud belly might give him away in Moscow, but in the West he wasn’t well known and would probably get away with it.

‘You are going to Nuremberg to interrogate von Schirach, the Nazi Youth leader. I am going to look at the physical arrangements for the trials – the layout of the courtroom and the seating of the Nazi criminals, and the custody details of our sole defendant, Hans Fritzsche. And then I will report back to Nikitchenko. It’s a convincing story, so have no fear. We are allies and you offered me a lift, that is all – so you are in the clear.’

‘I’ll see what I can do.’

*

It was simple getting Boris Minsky aboard the Lockheed Lodestar; nothing was too much trouble for America’s new best friend, Russia.

The day was gradually warming up and the sky was clearing. There were only ten passengers but Wilde and his new companion didn’t speak a word to each other during the flight. Boris Minsky insisted it should be that way. He didn’t want any of the other passengers knowing he was Russian, nor did he want them overhearing his conversation. Instead he spent the time looking out of the window at the peaceful fields and urban ruins of Germany.

Two hours and two hundred and fifty miles later, they came down to an easy landing at an airfield just outside Nuremberg. Once disembarked and clear of possible eavesdroppers, Wilde said, ‘So what now, comrade?’

‘You have to get me to England. There are other Russians here in Nuremberg. I must not be seen.’