The Samurai Inheritance by James Douglas Page A

have been around in the Thirties?’
    ‘Exactly,’ she confirmed. ‘And he remembered that in the years before the war it wasn’t uncommon for senior Nazis to use the museum service as what he called a “gift shop”. The disgrace of it still annoyed him.’
    ‘Gift shop?’
    ‘Party officials would take visiting dignitaries on a tour of a museum and if they showed an interest in something it would be handed over as a gift at the end of the tour. Not the really good stuff, but things with a certain novelty value.’
    ‘And he thinks that’s what might have happened to the head.’
    ‘He believes it’s possible, yes.’
    Jamie sipped his coffee and turned the new information over in his mind. ‘I suppose the next question is who the dignitaries were?’
    She nodded. ‘I think we’re probably talking about members of foreign delegations. People who provided the regime with greater legitimacy in world terms. They wouldn’t be minor government officials, because by nineteen thirty-six the Nazis had Germany completely sewn up and didn’t need to impress anyone.’
    ‘So if we can discover which delegations visited Berlin between November nineteen thirty-six and January ’thirty-seven, it would give us a potential target for the next step forward.’
    ‘That was my understanding.’
    ‘But how do we go about that?’
    The smile she gave him could only be called enigmatic. ‘I believe I have an idea.’

X
    When he’d paid the bill, Jamie offered to call Max, but Magda insisted she needed some fresh air. ‘Why don’t we walk to the U-Bahn instead?’ she suggested. ‘That lovely wine has gone to my head.’
    As they made their way south down the endless shoplined canyon of Friedrichstrasse, she unselfconsciously slipped her arm through his. The unexpected physical contact gave Jamie a moment of guilty panic, but he quickly relaxed to enjoy the sensation of being with a beautiful woman who made men’s heads turn even in a city filled with beautiful women. It occurred to him that for a self-confessed wanderer she seemed utterly at home and he could sense her smiling as they walked.
    When they reached the underground station Magda stepped forward to buy the tickets and led the way unerringly down to the platform. It wasn’t until they were sitting together on the half-empty train that she gave a hint of their destination.
    ‘In nineteen thirty-six Goebbels would have hailed every visit by a foreign delegation as an affirmation of Nazi culture.’ She raised her voice to be heard above the clatter as the swaying carriage picked up speed and thundered through the tunnel. ‘By that point every news outlet in the city was under his control or, at the very least, his malign influence, so it’s probable there would have been some sort of newspaper coverage of the events. Does that sound plausible to you?’
    ‘It seems likely enough,’ Jamie conceded. ‘I get the feeling Goebbels would have insisted on a full page with pictures on everything from Franco inviting Hitler over for a beach party to a visit of the Buenos Aires ladies free-style crochet champions. But doesn’t that make it more difficult for us? If they trumpeted the arrival of every overseas visitor it could run into dozens, even hundreds, and that’s if we could find any records.’
    Magda’s reply was lost as they rattled into a station and the train slewed to a halt. Jamie saw her frown and it was only then he noticed the platform was filled with hundreds of young men wearing various combinations of blue, black and white. When the doors opened they were deafened by a wall of chanting as a group of twenty or thirty forced their way into the carriage.
    Magda leaned across so her lips were against his ear. ‘Perhaps the U-Bahn wasn’t such a great idea after all.’ He gave her a reassuring smile and they sat back, trying to ignore the jostling mass that thankfully took station at the far end of the carriage to the sound of beer bottles being