‘See there, on the other side of the Kurpark. That’s the tram terminus – just take it all the way to the waterfall stop, and the cottage is the first you see on the path to the waterfall. Or you can drive if you’ve got a car. It’s no more than eight kilometres or so. There’s a pension next to it, but like us it will be closed in the winter.’ She turned back to Müller. ‘I’ll go and get you the cottage key. But as I say, we haven’t used it in years. It was Waldemar’s project really. No one’s been up there since he died as far as I know, and in his last couple of years he wasn’t really in a fit state to look after it. So it’s had seven years of neglect. I dread to think what sort of a state it’ll be in.’

As she shuffled through to a back room to collect the key, Tilsner finally returned.

‘Anything useful?’ asked Müller.

Tilsner wrinkled his nose, as though he’d been assailed by a bad smell, and shook his head. ‘There’s no sign that I can see that she’s been here recently. Only one bed looks like it’s been slept in. The others are all neatly made. To be honest, the whole place has an unloved, un-lived-in air to it. Any joy in questioning the old woman?’

‘Only that there’s some sort of annexe or weekend cabin nearby. We can either drive or get the tourist tram. It’s probably worth checking out.’

*

Although the tram looked tempting to Müller, they weren’t on some tourist jolly, so they decided to drive. In any case, the tram departed just before they did, so that for a few metres they were level with it – and it was travelling at a speed befitting something which obviously dated back to the early part of the century, if not earlier. The carriages were empty, save for one man in a dark anorak whose hood covered most of his face.

The road wound through the narrow Kirnitzsch valley, with snow-laden trees on each side. Although the road itself was snow-covered, Tilsner seemed unconcerned.

He saw Müller frowning as she surveyed the route ahead. ‘Don’t worry. We’ve got snow tyres on. It’ll be fine. I wonder if our friend behind has.’

Müller looked in the wing mirror, but it was adjusted for Tilsner’s vision so she couldn’t see their pursuers. She quickly swivelled her head, and saw a Lada with a driver and passenger on their tail. ‘Is it the same ones following us as before?’

‘Hard to tell. They didn’t get as close as this before. A dark Lada – so probably, but then there are plenty of dark Ladas around. They’re certainly not subtle. They want us to know they’re there.’