‘I don’t know. Wolf was a Munich girl and Schroeder certainly lived there as a young woman, so maybe there, or perhaps still being interrogated by one of the four powers. I wish you luck in your quest, Professor. And please . . . my family.’

‘One last question: have you heard of a man named August Jaeger?’

‘Of course. He is a fine man and the greatest mountain guide of his generation. Why, do you think he has something to do with all this?’

‘Would Boden have known him?’

‘Without doubt. Jaeger is an extremely important person in the Alps.’

Chapter 27

Chapter 27

The note was written in blue ink in a neat hand and said ‘Thanks for the lift’. The single sheet of paper with its meagre message was all Colonel General Boris Minsky, now known as Sergei Borisov, had left in his hotel room. But there was a P.S. ‘You want Boden, try Dachau.’

‘Herr Borisov didn’t check out,’ the manageress said huffily. ‘We served him food and drink but he didn’t pay us a pfennig. Ah, Gott, these dirty Russians. They will be the death of the world.’

‘Don’t worry, lady, the bill will be settled.’

The question was: why in hell had he simply taken off, and where had he gone? Was it even Wilde’s concern anymore? He had agreed to help the Russian in return for an interview with Hans Fritzsche. Both Wilde and Minsky had got what they wanted, so that was an end to it. What the Russian did now was his own business.

Wilde would call Dulles and Eaton because they had both become involved. If they were worried that a senior SMERSH officer was loose in the West, let them deal with it. Wilde simply wanted to get back to Bavaria and track down Julius Boden. Maybe, he’d be sitting with his feet up at home in Schwarzenkirche, smoking a pipe, wearing slippers and drinking schnapps while telling tales of derring-do to anyone who could bear to listen. Or maybe, as Borisov suggested, he would be interned in Dachau with other former SS men.

Now all Wilde needed was the presence of Lieutenant Mozes Heck. He was a difficult man, but he had his uses.

*

He found him back at the Grand Hotel, in the lounge near the concierge, cup of coffee at his side, cigarette in hand, writing in his journal.

‘I wasn’t expecting you quite so soon, Lieutenant Heck.’

‘No, well, things didn’t work out as I hoped in Berlin. How about you?’

‘We need to go to Bavaria first thing in the morning. I know a bit more about Standartenführer Boden. I have a strong feeling that he could be the man we want, and we’re getting close.’

*