“I just can’t. Something’s happened here….”

“It’ll be my only free night for ages. There might not be another chance. Come on, Carl, this is what you said you wanted—a night together like a normal couple.”

“Shit!”

“Language, Carl.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t swearing at you, just at myself.”

“Please, Carl. We could be together all night. Just think of it. You could pour champagne all over my—”

“Leni! It’s out of the question. I’m needed here.”

“You’re also needed here.”

“I can’t just leave, not at such short notice! Are you sure you’re not free at the weekend?”

“Weekends are my busiest time.”

“Shit!”

“Language!”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind how late you come.”

“Really? Even if it’s very late?”

“I sleep during the day—remember?”

“Of course.”

Strasser paused.

“Carl?” she asked. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, yes—I’m just thinking.”

“Thinking what?”

“I’m thinking that I could come. I know there’s a troop train coming through later, on its way to Berlin. I could get on that….”

“Excellent!”

“I’d get in at about one in the morning, though.”

“Perfect.”

“Where shall I meet you?”

“Meet me at the Adlon.”

“The Adlon? But that costs a—”

“I’m paying.”

“But…”

“Don’t worry, Carl—I have plenty of money. I’ll be in Room 38.”

“How come you’ve already got a room? How could you have been sure I would come?”

“I knew you would, Carl. See you later.”

The phone went dead in Strasser’s ear.

Kitty had not believed her when she said she was feeling unwell, but as it was a Monday, she had let it go. Kitty knew that the girls needed breaks more often than the SD allowed, and feigning illness was usually the only way they could get some time off.

“So who’s the lucky young man?” she had asked with a smirk.

“No, Kitty, I promise you, I’m feeling terrible.”

Kitty winked at her.

“Of course, my darling. Why don’t you come back tomorrow when you’re feeling better?”

“I will. I think I just need a night to myself.”

“All right. Off you go, then.”

In truth, Leni really could have done with a night on her own. She was exhausted by the nature of her work, by the anxiety about whether she would be caught, and by worrying about her parents. And now this. She wondered what had happened to Lockhart to get him locked up. Perhaps he had killed Worstead? Surely not—it would get him into too much trouble.

She liked Lockhart. When the GRU had got back to her, telling her that she and Pugh must work with him, she had not found the prospect unattractive. Pugh had bristled at it, but she reminded him that he had no choice, he was in too deep. There was something charming and gentlemanly about Lockhart, something polished, but not overly so. She liked his love for his wife—a rare display of decency. And he was handsome—he must have had a lot of admirers back in England, she thought. What was Anna like, Leni wondered, what sort of woman was she? Pugh had told her she was also an archaeologist, an academic like Lockhart. At first she had imagined a frumpy, plain girl with glasses, but then judging by Lockhart’s looks, his wife must be good-looking as well. Or was good-looking, Leni thought; there was no way she could be alive, not after four years in a camp, no way.