Müller could immediately hear the eagerness in his reply. ‘Of course, Karin. Do you know the Bogenschütze statue, by the banks of the Elbe in Dresden Neustadt?’

‘The archer?’

‘Exactly. Meet me there in thirty minutes’ time.’

*

The statue was only fifteen minutes’ walk away, across Dr-Rud-Friedrichs-Brücke, on the northern bank of the river. But by the time Müller reached the centre of the bridge, and the biting northerly wind started to penetrate her clothing, she wished she’d brought the Wartburg. Once she actually reached Jäger, who was standing in the shadow of the bronze archer, she felt thoroughly frozen.

‘Whenever we have these meetings, Karin, you always look as though you need a more suitable winter coat. Still, at least you’ve got rid of that ridiculous red raincoat.’

Müller was too cold to take umbrage at the Stasi colonel’s unnecessary comments about her wardrobe. ‘I haven’t really got time for verbal jousting, Comrade Oberstleutnant. But as you probably gathered from the phone call, I have some more information about those documents.’

Jäger nodded, while turning his head to scout round the park, checking for anyone taking too close an interest. ‘Let’s walk then,’ he said, and set off in the direction of the rose garden.

The ambient light from the city cast their shapes into several shadows, so that at one stage Müller wondered if there really was just the two of them. Jäger had set off at a furious pace, and she struggled to keep up with him.

When he was satisfied they had sufficient privacy, he sat down on a park bench and indicated for Müller to join him.

‘Is it as bad as I suspected?’ he immediately asked her.

‘Yes, Comrade Oberstleutnant. Perhaps worse. I don’t know how much you knew before you asked me to talk to Frau Voights.’

‘I had come across rumours, but my department of the Ministry is not involved in this. And my wife was pushing for Jens to go to the sports school – she said it was a fantastic opportunity. I was always more wary. When a small country like ours wins so many medals – and when some of its female athletes look so masculine – well, who wouldn’t be suspicious?’

Müller patted her briefcase, which contained Schmidt’s findings. ‘The suspicions are correct. The dosages for the children were written in code, but Schmidt managed to crack it. They confirm exactly that – the administration of drugs that in effect change the childrens’ gender, for both girls and boys.’