When she didn’t emerge after a few seconds, he pushed the door open and stepped into the house. He found himself in a small hallway or anteroom with three doors facing him – one to the left, one straight ahead and one to the right. He pushed them open one by one.

The first gave on to a short corridor with two doors visible and a picture window overlooking the verandah to the west, the second opened on to a large sitting room with armchairs, a traditional ceramic wood-burner, an open fireplace and various other decorations and pictures. The third door opened onto a narrow kitchen. The woman was standing there, a long-bladed carving knife in hand, defensively. She wore a brightly coloured apron. A pan was boiling on the range.

‘Put the knife down,’ he said, not bothering to point the M3 in her direction. ‘I’m not going to hurt you. I just want a cup of water.’

‘Then why are you here armed like a soldier? Why do you walk into my house uninvited?’ She did not sound as frightened as an innocent woman should.

‘I’m on a military exercise.’ He wasn’t about to give her any further explanation. ‘What is this place? This isn’t just a herder’s hut.’

‘No, it is a summer retreat. A holiday home.’ She wasn’t relaxing, but she had placed the knife down on the wooden table, within easy reach of her right hand.

‘Who else is here?’

‘No one.’

‘Someone called you. I was watching . . .’

‘Oh, that was just Opa.’ She tapped her temple with her index finger, the international signal of dementia or insanity.

‘Opa?’

‘That’s what we call him. An old grandfather. He’s not all there, a typical greybeard. I look after the place for the owners, and I look after him. The owners come here for several weeks every year in the summer months. Not during the war, you understand, but before that – and now they have started again this summer. They are wealthy people. I am their housekeeper.’

‘Are they here now?’

‘No, they have returned to Munich.’

‘What’s their name?’

‘I’m not sure that’s any of your business. I will give you your glass of water and then I must insist you leave. Opa would not be happy to see a stranger with a gun. He is a timid old man.’

‘I think I’ll go and say hello to him. Just to reassure him.’

She moved forward. ‘You can’t go wandering around this house. This is private property.’

Wilde ignored her entreaty and moved away, keeping her covered as he backed towards the door. He raised the angle of the M3 fractionally so that its short barrel was pointing directly at her chest.

She sneered at him. ‘You’re American, yes? You think you scare me?’

‘I don’t know. Do I?’