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“Your aunt Beatrice told me you were probably going to be on this train,” he said. “I looked for you in Vienna but couldn’t find you.”

“I almost missed the train,” Eric said.

“With your permission, Herr Brigadeführer,” the Gestapo agent said, “I will return to my duties.”

Von Heurten-Mitnitz dismissed him with a casual wave of his arm, in a sloppy Nazi salute.

“Heil Hitler,” he mumbled.

The Gestapo agent started back to the train.

“You, there!” von Heurten-Mitnitz called after him, and when the Gestapo agent turned, added:“Your zeal is to be commended.”

"Thank you, Herr Brigadeführer,” the Gestapo agent said, pleased.

“That was rather close, wasn’t it?” von Heurten-Mitnitz said. “How was he going to check you out?”

“I was going to call Müller,” Fulmar said.

“He wouldn’t have been there,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said. “The moment I heard about what happened on the train from Switzerland, I tried to call him. He’s still at Rastenburg with Kaltenbrunner.”

“I thought he’d changed his mind,” Fulmar said, “or been bagged. I was about to bite that fucking pill.”

Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz looked at him intently for a moment but didn’t reply.

“Is there anything else I should know? Was there any trouble in Marburg?”

“I had to take out the local SS-SD man,” Fulmar said.

“Take out?”

“I killed him,” Fulmar said. “The body is in the Dyer apartment. We drove to Frankfurt in his car.”

Von Heurten-Mitnitz thought that over a moment.

“Well, it’s a good thing, then, that Müller is at the Wolf’s Lair, isn’t it? Anything else?”

“Dyer wanted to bring some papers with him, or to destroy them before we left. I told him there wasn’t time. Do you know anything about that?”

Von Heurten-Mitnitz thought that over a moment, then shook his head.

“I have no idea,” he said.

He would tell Müller to get his hands on Professor Dyer’s papers, if he could do so without causing much suspicion. If Dyer thought they were important, it probably explained why the Americans had gone to all this trouble to get him out.

“I have a bit of news for you,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said. “On my arrival in Budapest, I learned that your contact there is your cousin by marriage, the Countess Batthyany.”

Fulmar’s eyebrows rose. “All I had was St. Ann’s Church, and the date and time,” he said.

“Why don’t we get back on the train, my dear Eric?” Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz said.

“What happens next?” Fulmar asked.

“Tomorrow, or the day after, you will be taken to Yugoslavia. Once you’re in Mihajlovic’s hands, I am assured the risky part of the journey will be over.”

Fulmar snorted. “‘Assured’? Assured by whom?”

“Someone very close to the top of the Hungarian resistance,” von Heurten-Mitnitz said. “Someone in whom I am acquiring a certain faith.”