The room was a godsend. The money to pay for it came from the GRU, who had decided a few weeks ago that she needed a base away from both Kitty’s and her flat. “Fräulein Hoffman” tried not to come here too often, in case she was noticed, but it was hard to stay away from the luxuriousness of the bedroom, which contained a huge four-poster bed with a good firm mattress. What made it even more tempting was the large bathtub, into which she was now running hot water, as well as adding some salts.

She undressed and got in the bath, briefly debated whether she would wash her hair, and then plunged her head under the water. She would need to look her best tonight. She had already worked out how she was going to play it with Carl. As Pugh had said, it would require her to use all her charms, but she had decided to play it a lot tougher than that. It would be unfair to trick Carl any longer—it was time he was compromised. There was no other way it was going to work, and besides, it might even help Lockhart.

The knock on the door came a little sooner than she had expected. She had spent the past few hours waiting, reading magazines, preparing herself.

“Hello?”

“It’s Carl.”

“Just coming.”

She checked herself in the mirror. She was wearing her silk robe, under which she had on a basque and a pair of stockings. They all liked this look, she thought, especially Carl. She thought it looked ridiculous, especially with the high heels, but then there was nothing about the male sexual appetite that surprised her anymore. She felt the neck of the champagne bottle—good, it was still cold. There was a large plate of cold meats and pickles next to it—she had guessed Carl would be hungry after his train ride.

She opened the door, and there was Strasser, looking a little unkempt.

“Why, you look as though you’ve just spent half the night on a troop train.”

“Hell on wheels,” said Strasser, before checking her up and down. “But well worth it.”

She reached forward and grabbed him by the belt and pulled him into the room. Then she kissed him hard, and pushed herself into him.

“It’s good to see you again,” she said.

“Thank you for persuading me to come.”

“You had no choice!”

“I know. You were very persuasive.”

Leni let go and walked into the room.

“Why don’t you open that bottle of champagne?” she asked. “And there’s some food for you—I didn’t know whether you would have got the chance to eat this evening.”

“You’re right—I didn’t. But first, I’d like to eat something else.”

Strasser smirked.

“Be my guest,” she said, and turned her back on him.