He wasn’t going to use the phone lines at Volkspolizei HQ. Instead he got out the Dresden street atlas and looked for a public call box in a more obscure part of the city. He chose the area of Übigau – on the north bank of the Elbe – a quiet backwater known for little except its shipyards. Going out there wouldn’t be a complete defence – the Stasi probably monitored most public call boxes – but it was still safer than having the conversation he wanted to have inside the People’s Police building.

*

He checked the mirrors of the Wartburg as he drove through the city’s backstreets, trying to go as circuitous a route as possible, all the time making sure he wasn’t being followed. Once he reached the call box he’d chosen, on the corner of Sternstraße and Scharfenbergerstraße, he parked the car and approached it. Rather than one of the rounded modern designs, it was one of the older types: octagonal with a witch’s hat roof.

Tilsner fed in his coins, then dialled the number.

After a few rings, the line was answered.

‘Manfred?’

‘Werner. How are you doing?’

‘OK. But I’m keen to go sailing as soon as possible.’ It was the agreed code. Manfred would know what he meant. Tilsner heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.

‘I’m not really ready to go sailing.’

‘Why?’ asked Tilsner, alarmed. ‘What’s the problem?’

‘There’s no real problem. But the sailing club is short of material to make the sails.’

Tilsner thought for a moment. ‘I might be able to help. Do you want me to buy some?’

‘If you want to go sailing soon, then yes, you’ll need to. Very few stores have the necessary material, but there’s one in Leipzig.’

‘Leipzig?’ It was more than an hour away. Tilsner looked at his watch. Not impossible, the shops would still be open if he got a move on, and he was on the right side of Dresden centre to make a quick getaway, before any early evening traffic built up.

‘Well, just south of Leipzig, so perhaps a bit nearer for you. Markkleeberg to be precise.’

‘OK – tell me what you need.’

‘Have you got a pen and paper?’

As Manfred listed the various pieces of material he needed, and the sizes, Tilsner started to worry whether he’d have enough cash to buy it all. Placing the handset back on the receiver, he pulled out his wallet and counted out the notes. There ought to be enough – just about.

*

He reached the store with about a quarter of an hour to spare before closing time.

The shop assistant initially queried how many square metres of material Tilsner was asking for. ‘Are you sure that’s right?’ she asked. ‘We don’t normally get asked for such a large amount – not without advance notice.’