Diebner nodded his head slowly, then his mouth broke into an unctuous little smile. ‘If I were to know anything, why would I wish to help you?’

‘That’s easy,’ Wilde said. ‘The Third Reich – of which you were an integral part – is dead. It is possible you might have regrets that you ever joined the party or worked on behalf of such a monstrous regime. It is possible you might wish to become accepted in the new scientific world, free of racial distinctions and the taint of cruelty.’

‘Yes, I can see that.’

‘And so any assistance would go a great way towards your rehabilitation. It would serve to convince people that you regret your Nazi past. So I ask again, do you know anyhing about the fate of Adolf Hitler?’

‘You have asked the same question of Bagge and Heisenberg?’

‘Yes.’

‘And what did they say?’

‘That is confidential – except for one thing. Professor Heisenberg said that if anyone in this house had any idea about Hitler’s whereabouts, it would probably be you.’

Diebner laughed, but his left eye twitched unpleasantly. ‘That was nice of the professor, putting me on the spot.’

Wilde and Eaton said nothing. They waited. The office wall clock ticked in the silence.

‘Very well, it is possible I do know something.’

‘Go on.’

‘What would I get in return?’

‘Your reputation as a decent human being.’

‘Yes, I see that. And that is worth a lot.’

‘Well?’ Wilde said.

‘Very well, I believe he is alive – and that he is in southern Bavaria.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘Something I heard once from Reichsführer Himmler. Have you heard of the Alpenfestung?’

‘Go on.’

‘It was supposed to be Hitler’s alpine fortress, where, with two or three SS divisions, he would hold out for years until he had grown powerful enough to drive out Germany’s enemies. Of course, it never happened. Hitler wasn’t really that interested, because he thought he could still win the war. But Himmler told me that a different, greatly scaled-down version of the fortress had been planned instead. I don’t know the detail, but I imagine a secret bunker like the one in Berlin. Somewhere he could hide out indefinitely, perhaps directing a guerrilla war against the occupying armies.’

‘You imagine? So you don’t know?’

‘No, I don’t know for certain. But I believe it is likely. From what I read in the newspapers, his so-called suicide in the Berlin bunker had all the hallmarks of being staged. It would have been easily fabricated. No, I don’t believe he is dead. Does that help?’

‘Not much,’ Wilde said. ‘Anybody could make up stuff about a secret Alpine bunker. The cheaper newspapers spout rubbish like that all the time.’

Diebner stiffened perceptibly. ‘But I am not making it up. This is what Himmler told me. I remember the date. March the twelfth this year, a few weeks before the end. He even mentioned that if it came to it, Hitler’s disappearance would be camouflaged by a fake suicide.’