‘We shouldn’t mention Himmler’s involvement at all, if we can possibly avoid it, General,’ he said. ‘I’m all for exposing Weisthor in front of witnesses. I don’t want that dirty bastard to get away with it. But at the same time we should avoid embarrassing the Reichsfuhrer in front of the senior SS staff. He’ll forgive us destroying Weisthor, but he won’t forgive us making an ass of him.’

‘I agree,’ said Heydrich. He thought for a moment. ‘This is Sipo section six, isn’t it?’ Nebe nodded. ‘Where’s the nearest SD main provincial station to Wewelsburg?’

‘Bielefeld,’ Nebe replied.

‘Right. I want you to telephone them immediately. Have them send a full company of men here by dawn.’ He smiled thinly. ‘Just in case Weisthor manages to make this Jew allegation against me stick. I don’t like this place. Weisthor has lots of friends here in Wewelsburg. He even officiates at some of the ludicrous SS wedding ceremonies that take place here. So we might need to mount a show of force.’

‘The castle commandant, Taubert, was in Sipo prior to this posting,’ said Nebe. ‘I’m pretty certain we can trust him.’

‘Good. But don’t tell him about Weisthor. Just stick to Gunther’s original story about KPD infiltrators and have him keep a detachment of men on full alert. And while you’re about it, you’d better have him organize a bed for the Kommissar. By God, he’s earned it.’

‘The room next to mine is free, General. I think it’s the Henry I of Saxony Room.’ Nebe grinned.

‘Madness,’ Heydrich laughed. ‘I’m in the King Arthur and the Grail Room. But who knows? Perhaps today I shall at least defeat Morgana le Fay.’

The courtroom was on the ground floor of the west wing. With the door to one of the adjoining rooms open a crack, I had a perfect view of what went on in there.

The room itself was over forty metres long, with a bare, polished wooden floor, panelled walls and a high ceiling complete with oak beams and carved gargoyles. Dominating was a long oak table that was surrounded on all four sides with high-backed leather chairs, on each of which was a silver disk and what I presumed to be the name of the SS officer who was entitled to sit there. With the black uniforms and all the ritualistic ceremony that attended the commencement of the court proceedings, it was like spying on a meeting of the Grand Lodge of Freemasons.

First on the agenda that morning was the Reichsführer’s approval of plans for the development of the derelict north tower. These were presented by Landbaumeister Bartels, a fat, owlish little man who sat between Weisthor and Rahn. Weisthor himself seemed nervous and was quite obviously feeling the lack of his cocaine.