‘Coffee and sandwiches?’ Kempka said. ‘Some for me, please, kind sir. I’m not good at answering questions when I’m hungry. And I tell you, we are all as hungry as hell in this shithole camp. No shelter, no food, no cigarettes.’

‘Answer our questions, give us information we haven’t heard before, and I’ll make sure you have some good food,’ Wilde said. It had already been agreed that in this interview, he would lead the interrogation.

‘And beer. I’d kiss your feet for a stein of beer.’

‘All depends what you tell us. But don’t push your luck, Herr Kempka.’

‘Obersturmbannführer Kempka,’ he said. ‘That is my title. What you might call “lieutenant colonel”, I believe.’ He pronounced “lieutenant” the American way. Wilde noted the slight curl of the lips as though he had just smelt or tasted something unpleasant. Not quite a sneer, but not far off – and enough to make Heck begin to steam. The SS officer’s arrogance was likely to make him boil over, which might be useful later, but not quite yet.

‘Big title for a glorified taxi driver,’ Heck said.

‘In many ways I was the Führer’s right-hand man.’

‘Then where is he?’ Wilde demanded.

‘He’s dead. I personally burnt his body, and that of his new wife, Frau Eva.’ Kempka laughed. ‘This is crazy, you know. How many times do I have to answer this question? I think I have been to every Ami base in Germany and every time I am asked this by you intelligence officers. Each time, I give the same answer, because it is the truth, and so I have no other answer to give.’

‘You are laughing. Do you think there is something funny about all this?’

‘It is amusing that I am asked so often what has happened to him when I saw him dead with my own eyes and keep telling everyone this.’

‘No, you’re wrong,’ Wilde said, ‘we have evidence that he’s not dead.’

‘OK.’ The German shrugged. ‘He’s not dead then – if that’s what you want to hear. Perhaps you can tell me where he is.’

Heck stepped forward, grabbed the slick young man by the collar and lifted him from his chair into the air. ‘If you don’t want to die here in this room, you piece of SS filth, you will answer us straight.’ He flung him down to the floor. Wilde pulled Heck away, then helped the German back to his chair.

An orderly arrived holding a tray with a pot of coffee, two cups, milk, sugar and a plate of cheese and ham sandwiches. Wilde calmly poured two cups of coffee, handed one to Heck and sipped the other himself. He left the sandwiches on the table, just where Kempka could see them. The German stared at the food with desperate eyes.