The office was anything but huge, but it was at least warm—heated by a furnace in the corner. Lange’s two other guests sat on either side of it. One was an SS officer, young, blue-eyed, but with a drawn face. The other was dressed like an English gentleman, wearing a green tweed suit and brown brogues. His hair was Brylcreemed back and he had a drinker’s face. They both stood up at Lockhart’s entrance.

“Captain Lockhart,” began Lange, “may I present to you Herr Arnold Hillen-Ziegfeld of the Foreign Ministry, and Hauptsturmführer Carl Strasser of the SS-Hauptamt.”

Strasser saluted with a Heil Hitler, and Hillen-Ziegfeld shook Lockhart’s hand.

“How do you do,” said Hillen-Ziegfeld. His voice sounded absurd—he was evidently trying to speak in an upper-class English accent. Lockhart smirked a little.

“Very well, thank you,” he replied, making his voice as ridiculously pukka as possible. As he spoke, he could spot Strasser sizing him up, those blue eyes staring straight into him. Strasser looked as though he knew Lockhart was trying to take him for a fool.

“Well, why don’t you sit down?” said Lange. “We’ve got lots to talk about. And I expect you’re hungry too.” With a flourish, Lange removed a cloth from his desk to reveal a plate full of cheese, cold meats and bread.

“Please chow down—there’s more than enough for all of us.”

Lockhart was indeed hungry, but he didn’t want to look desperate—it would seem weak. Whoever Strasser was, he didn’t want to find himself being judged badly by him. He sat opposite the others, Lange having brought his desk chair over to the furnace.

“Right, shall we begin?” said Lange. “Perhaps Herr Hillen-Ziegfeld can explain why you’re here.”

Hillen-Ziegfeld cleared his throat and started speaking in his faux-English accent.

“Captain Lockhart. You’re here because we want you to perform a duty for us. We understand that you have a wife held captive here in Germany, and that in return for her safety you are willing to…shall we say, assist in some way.”

Lockhart folded his arms and nodded slightly.

“Before I tell you exactly what it is we would like you to do,” continued Hillen-Ziegfeld, “first I should give you some background. As you are probably aware, it has long been the belief, held by the Führer downwards, that England and Germany do not need to be enemies. We are both Aryan peoples, advanced, intelligent and lovers of freedom.”

Lockhart snorted.

“Yes, Captain Lockhart, freedom. For in comparison to the true enemy, Russia, both of our countries are very free indeed. The Bolsheviks, with their savage ways, are the real opponents of European peace. There is little doubt that Communism, aided by a Jewish plutocracy, threatens to overwhelm us all, and then how free would we be?”

Hillen-Ziegfeld cleared his throat.

“Part of my job at the Foreign Ministry is to sit on the England Committee. Our task is to find Englishmen who also believe in the menace of Communism and would like to join us in our struggle to smash it down.”