Thankfully, the platform was still fairly crowded, and they stepped off the train into a throng of passengers. Lockhart caught a glimpse of the untersturmführer and his police officers—they had advanced half a carriage toward them.

“Which way are the lavatories?” Lockhart asked.

“Over there!” said Leni, pointing to the sign.

They couldn’t have been in a worse position, for the lavatories lay halfway between them and the search party. Lockhart took a deep breath—at least he had the Luger.

“All right,” he said. “We should both go into the same one.”

“But that’ll look—”

“No, it’s best we stick together. We’ll go into the men’s. You go ahead of me, and I’ll cover you.”

Together, they walked slowly along the platform. Lockhart kept his eyes on the search party, who were in the process of ordering all the men off the next carriage. The untersturmführer still had his eyes glued to the train, rather than to those on the platform. Lockhart just had to hope that some sharp-eyed little policeman didn’t spot them. He thanked God for the blandness of his clothes, relieved that he had temporarily eschewed his BFC uniform, with its distinctive Union Jack and three lions.

They were now a few yards from the lavatories. The search party was engaged in hauling out some reluctant passengers, who were complaining that they were going to lose their places. Lockhart was grateful for the fracas—it meant that they should be able to slip into the lavatory unnoticed. If there was anybody in there, they would have to say that the ladies’ was out of order.

The men’s lavatory was empty. They were presented with a row of cubicles, behind each of which was a window large enough for them to get through. Lockhart hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but better a window than no window.

“Here, let’s go into this one,” Lockhart whispered.

They shut themselves into a cubicle in the corner. Now all they could do was wait for the train to be searched, and for it to leave. Lockhart estimated that they would be here for another half an hour. Too bad. At least they were off the train, where they were likely to have been caught.

The door to the lavatory opened, which caused Lockhart and Leni to hold their breath. They listened to the sound of footsteps, and then a cubicle opening two or three doors down. Sod’s law, thought Lockhart, that whoever it was hadn’t just come in for a leak. The man started to go about his business noisily, so noisily that they almost started to laugh. It was nervousness that was making them want to do so, thought Lockhart, sheer bloody nervousness.

After a few minutes, the man finished. As he flushed the chain, Lockhart felt himself and Leni relax slightly. The man got out and walked to the washbasins, turned on the tap and uttered a small curse that there wasn’t any soap. He cursed again when he realized that there wasn’t a towel on which to dry his hands. His footsteps made their way toward the door, and then paused.