Such was the acting ability of Lockhart and Strasser that only the most perceptive man would have recognized the sea change in their relationship. However, as none of the thirteen remaining members of the unit were that perceptive, it seemed to them that the hierarchy remained the same, albeit that Catchpole had now become the senior NCO. Lockhart was unsure about Catchpole, but Pugh had assured him that he was enough of an opportunist to do as he was told when presented with the right sort of carrot.

Naturally, much of the talk was about the demise of Worstead. Strasser had thought it a good idea for Lockhart to address the men, to quash the inevitable rumors that would start up. Lockhart agreed, but only on the condition that Strasser also made a speech, stating that the authorities had fully absolved Lockhart, and that Worstead had been mentally unstable, which was the truth as far as he was concerned. The men accepted this—it appeared that most of them had thought that Worstead was a crank, and that it was only going to be a matter of time before, in Hull’s words, “the bugger did himself in.”

In fact, the men were more concerned with the move to Dresden. To them, it smacked of a step closer to action, something on which they were not keen. Lockhart was firm, and said that the unit had little choice in the matter. Furthermore, he added that if anyone was caught trying to escape, they would be court-martialed and shot, and he, Lockhart, would personally command the firing squad. This threat caused a collective gasp, which was precisely the effect Lockhart had intended. He knew that he had to make the prospect of Dresden sound as unpleasant as possible, in order for the alternative to seem a little less so.

In private, Strasser had expressed a kind of shocked admiration for Lockhart’s iron fist, but also bewilderment. Lockhart had had to restrain himself from patting Strasser on the back, telling him that if he was a good boy he would find out sooner or later what was going on, but he thought better of it. He had tried his luck with Strasser, and it had paid off, but he knew that he could just as easily force the very harassed Strasser to commit some uncharacteristically thoughtless act. Ironically, Lockhart showed Strasser more respect now that he had the upper hand. Such was the nature of wielding power, thought Lockhart; something that Worstead would never have been able to comprehend.

Lockhart was musing on that as he sat on the train. It was Saturday morning, and he was heading into Berlin to see Leni. Pugh had wanted to join him, but Lockhart had insisted that he remain in Hildesheim, to keep an eye on the men. Pugh had given him an arch look, but Lockhart somewhat brusquely told him that he could erase any doubts he might have about Lockhart’s continuing fidelity to his late wife.