‘It means that Kempka wasn’t in on the conspiracy – otherwise he would simply lie and tell us that he saw Hitler’s face.’

‘That tells us that Hitler didn’t trust him enough to be involved in his disappearance. He’s nothing more than a stooge. The problem is, we’re now at a dead end – unless we can persuade the Russians to let us talk to Günsche and Linge.’

‘There’s the dentist, of course, Hugo Blaschke. He has testified that the bridgework found in a jawbone in the ashes outside the bunker was made by him for Hitler,’ Wilde said.

‘Of course he’d say that. That’s what he has been told to say. Talking to him is pointless.’

‘But what if he’s an integral part of the conspiracy. I mean, if Hitler in his hideout has toothache, Blaschke is the man he’ll send for.’

Heck dismissed the idea. ‘We’re clutching at straws. I can’t be bothered to talk to a fucking Nazi dentist. If Hitler needs him, they’ll go and get him and take him, blindfold, to the hideout. They’re not going to trust a man like that with knowledge of his whereabouts.’

Wilde realised Heck was probably right, which put Blaschke at the bottom of the list of those to be interrogated. ‘Come on, let’s give Kempka one last going-over. I have another question for the bastard.’

‘Can I threaten him?’

‘If you think it would help. But don’t kill him.’

Heck shrugged. ‘If you say not. But I’d very much like to.’

They returned to the room. All the sandwiches had gone. ‘One more thing, Kempka,’ Wilde said. ‘You were driving Hitler for many years. Most of it was on official business, I am sure. But what about the other times – when he was relaxing?’

‘The boss liked to relax at Obersalzberg – at his house there, the Berghof.’

‘Oh, we know that. But where else? He loved southern Bavaria and his native Austria, I believe. What were his favourite outings? I’m told he liked to be driven around at high speed in his supercharged Mercedes. Where did he demand to be taken on a sunny afternoon outing? What were his favourite lakes, villages and mountains?’

Kempka seemed to be thinking. Heck tossed him another lit cigarette, as he might toss a treat to a dog.

‘He certainly liked the lakes – Walchensee, Chiemsee. He loved the mountains of the Tyrol. He always told me that mountains recharged his batteries.’

‘Any towns or resorts in particular? Did you ever go to a place called Grünegg? Or Almrosen?’

Kempka’s expression didn’t change. ‘I don’t know those places,’ he said. ‘But I can tell you this: he once told me he wanted his body to be laid out on top of the Wildspitze, like a Teuton warrior king, so that his flesh could feed the eagles.’

Chapter 15

Chapter 15