Lockhart listened intently, straining his ears for even the slightest sound. Nothing. It seemed to him as though Stafford’s lock-picking was making a racket, but he knew the corporal wouldn’t be able to make it any quieter.

“How much longer?”

Stafford grunted.

“Can you do it?”

“It’s a bit of a bugger…. Ah!”

And then a click that put a smile on both their faces.

“You little beauty,” Stafford whispered.

Lockhart turned from the staircase and joined Stafford at the door.

“Will you be able to lock it again?” he asked.

“Should be able to.”

“Good.”

Lockhart turned the handle and started to push the heavy oak door open. It creaked so loudly that he immediately stopped.

“Do it quickly,” Stafford whispered. “Less noise.”

Lockhart took a deep breath and pushed hard. The creaking seemed loud enough to fill the entire building. Surely everybody would wake up? Lockhart brushed the concern aside and stepped into the office, his eyes trying to make out what lay in front of him. He briefly turned on a small flashlight, one of two that Stafford had wangled from God knows where.

“Shit,” he whispered, and turned off the flashlight.

“What?”

“The place is a mess! There’s paper every-bloody-where. Stacks of it! Typical bloody academic.”

“Shall we go then?”

It was tempting, because Lockhart knew that they might need all night. No, five minutes, he would give it five minutes, and told Stafford as much.

“You stand guard here,” Lockhart continued, “and let me know when my time is up.”

Stafford nodded in the darkness, while Lockhart set to work.

Recently. To Lockhart that suggested that the piece of paper would be on the desk. He walked softly over to it—a vast affair, covered in piles of papers and books. Where to begin? He turned the flashlight back on and held it in his mouth. The stack of paper to the right looked promising. The stack to the left was crowned by a dusty book, which suggested that the pile might not have been disturbed for weeks.

He picked up a large handful of sheets and started flicking through them. Viking burial ground uncovered…. Special report on the skull sizes of Russian commissars…Hysterectomies on Jewish twins…Christ almighty, thought Lockhart, this was unbelievable, but keep looking, keep looking…. Effects of high-pressure chambers on ear, nose and throat…Some interesting new comments on Jewish bastardy…Haus Germanien report on Dutch SS recruits…Racial theory: some new pointers…Dear Sturmbannführer Parsch, I am looking for a position as…Results of medical experiments by the discredited Dr. Sigmund Rascher, January 1943…

Shit. There was nothing here, thought Lockhart, or rather there was everything. In just one handful of paper he had uncovered enough evidence of Nazi insanity to make him forget where he was, to make him gasp out loud.

“What is it?”

It was Stafford.

“Nothing,” Lockhart mumbled back, the flashlight obscuring his speech.