Were they all Nazis in the village of Schwarzenkirche, and all privy to the secret? All complicit in Boden’s plot? Or were they just simple farmers, going about their daily lives like his own family had gone about theirs?

He poured himself the last of the coffee, though it was no better than lukewarm and listened to the sounds of the night, the distant rushing of water and the whisper of the wind.

*

Wilde parked down a short track away from the main road, just by a fast-flowing stream. It was 4.30 a.m. and still dark. He was wearing a pair of plimsolls to deaden the sound of his feet as he walked the last mile up the mountain road to Almrosen. On his shoulder he carried a lightweight leather document bag containing Jaeger’s map of the Alps. A precise photographic copy remained in safe keeping back at Garmisch.

The village was dark and silent. No dogs barked, no cocks crowed. The houses were nothing but black shadows against a slightly less dark sky. He was walking more carefully now, expecting at any moment to be confronted by an armed guard. It was a foolish thought; alpine villages were not patrolled by law officers. But the darkness plays tricks with a man’s mind as well as his vision.

His grip was tight on the Walther pistol in his jacket pocket. The air was chilly, yet fragrant with the scent of geraniums in the boxes that decorated the balconies of all the chalets.

Now he was outside Jaeger’s enormous house, beneath the vast array of antlers that adorned the wooden wall above the door. He had a flashlight, but wanted to avoid using it. All it would take was one insomniac at a window and the covert nature of this visit would be gone. He turned the door handle and was not surprised to find it unlocked.

‘Herr Jaeger,’ he said in a low, urgent voice. There was no reply, so he stepped inside anyway. Perhaps Jaeger was watching him, to make sure he really had come alone.

Once inside, he had to switch on the torch, but he kept it low, the beam cupped by his hand to diminish the light. It was not perfect, because the windows had no curtains and the shutters were open. He pushed the door to, but did not close it properly.

The floorboards were ancient and he knew they would creak as he walked, so he measured his steps with care. It all looked the same as the last time they were here. Nothing seemed to be out of place. And yet he sensed a difference. He stood in the big hall area and waited. When no one appeared, he began to walk through the rooms of all three storeys, including five bedrooms, taking particular interest in the biggest, which he assumed must be Jaeger’s. The beds were all made and had not been slept in.