‘Fuck you, Mr Wilde. Get back to your books and leave the real work to the professionals.’

*

Consumed with rage, he went to the guard house and made his way to the cold, bare cell housing Andreas Stock. The German was sitting on the edge of his bed, one foot on the floor, his other foot swinging. He didn’t look up or stir when Wilde entered.

‘Herr Stock, I am here to inform you that Julius Boden was shot last night. You no longer owe him any loyalty.’

Stock slowly raised his eyes but still he said nothing.

‘Silence until death, eh? Well, that will do you a fine lot of good. I also have something to show you.’ He took the map out of his bag and laid it out beside Stock on the bed. ‘Here.’ He stabbed his index finger at the words Die versteckte Alm. ‘Recognise it?’

The thin German didn’t move his head, but his eyes strayed sideways to the map and Wilde’s finger. Wilde was certain he saw him stiffen. It meant something to him.

‘Perhaps you know the place? The hidden meadow. I imagine it’s extremely pretty up there with mountains all around, nice cool air. Wildflowers in summer, a roaring log fire in winter. Perfect place for an old tyrant’s retirement home.’

At last Andreas Stock spoke. ‘Are you going there?’

‘Of course.’

He gave Wilde an enigmatic smile, ‘Good luck, Ami.’

*

Ingrid Zinke’s father, Joachim, was in the reception area at the entrance to the camp. He was a tall lean man with the gnarled features of a prizefighter who had lost too many bouts. Wilde offered his condolences for the death of his daughter, but they were meagre words given the depth of the man’s loss.

‘I have come to collect Ingrid’s body,’ he said plainly.

‘And you will be given every assistance. You know that we have the killer in custody.’

‘Yes, I heard. Andreas Stock. I would like to see him.’

‘Do you know him?’

‘Of course. He is Ilse Boden’s brother. Please, let me see him.’

Somehow Wilde was not surprised to learn of the familial link. It made sense. ‘I don’t think that will be possible.’

‘Give me five minutes with him. Please.’

‘I would like to, but I can’t.’

‘He will hang, though?’

‘Without a doubt.’

Joachim Zinke nodded his head slowly. ‘Thank you, sir. I trust you. You know I never wanted Ingrid to go to those people. But she needed the work. That woman . . . she is a devil.’

Did he believe Frau Boden was behind his daughter’s murder? Surely no one could have told him such a thing. ‘Why do you say that?’

‘I have nothing more to say. God will punish that family.’

*

In the afternoon, Wilde returned to the single-bed ward where Mo Heck was being looked after.

‘Two visits in one day, Professor? I feel like royalty.’