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said. He was familiar with the myth. In fact he was relieved that for all his delusions and credulities, Himmler accepted that war with Russia was inevitable.
    ‘Initially we used this castle as a training centre for the SS,’ Himmler went on, apparently ignoring Hess’s words. ‘A place where the elite can become versed in history, archaeology, astronomy, art and culture. Now it is much, much more than that.’
    Hess was aware of this too. Wewelsburg had become the Reichsfuhrer’s centre of operations – a shrine and a cathedral for the quasi-religious order that Himmler had created. But to Hess, though he said nothing, the whole castle reeked of pretence and affectation.
    Hess himself was a committed occultist, a member of the Thule Society who believed that Hitler was the German Messiah; an astrologer who thought that our faults lie not in ourselves but in the stars. The Thule Society believed that German Aryans were the true descendants of a race of Nordic ‘supermen’ from a long-lost landmass akin to Atlantis. Hess subscribed fully to this theory.
    But what Himmler had just showed him at Wewelsburg caused him to question everything he thought he knew.
    It was a disappointment to Hess that Hitler distrusted occult thinking and put little store in things that could not be proven. But once the Fuhrer saw what Himmler had at Wewelsburg, Hitler would have the proof he needed to believe. For the first time, the Deputy Fuhrer was forced to consider what that would lead to, and what reaction it might provoke from Hitler…
    He could not let Himmler see what he truly thought, but Hess was appalled.
    He mopped his heavy brow with a handkerchief, his dark eyebrows knitted together as they emerged into the light. Himmler gestured for the door to be sealed behind them before leading the way along a corridor. The only light came from flickering sconces where pools of oil burned and sputtered.The only sound Hess could hear was his own racing heart.
    The final meeting of his visit took place in the Hall of the Generals in the castle’s North Tower. Beneath the high vaulted ceiling, twelve stone seats were arranged in a perfect circle around a green and gold symbol of the sun inlaid in the marble floor.
    Himmler sat facing Hess across the circle. He was an unimposing man, dwarfed by the room and even the chair he sat on. Everything about him was slight – his close-cut hair, the shadowy moustache, the almost-invisible frames of his round glasses. You could pass him in the street, Hess thought, and not notice the man. Except that here, like the spider at the centre of its web, Himmler exuded an aura of absolute control. Here, despite his appearance, there was no mistaking who was in charge.
    The others present were Himmler’s assistant, Hoffman, and various generals and other high-ranking SS officers, as well as several white-coated scientists. No one took or spoke from notes.
    The unease and anxiety Hess felt grew with every report he heard. His brain was in a whirl, his senses numbed. Himmler listened intently to everything. He nodded and frowned, murmured corrections and asked for occasional clarification. It was exactly like a hundred other briefing meetings that Hess had attended – except for the extraordinary surroundings and the terrifying subject matter.
    ‘How sure are you of this?’ he asked at last. ‘Of
any
of this?’
    ‘You have seen the Vault,’ Himmler said. The light reflected off the lenses of his glasses, hiding his small, dark eyes. ‘You know the legends. Some of what we have told you is speculation. No,’ he corrected himself with a thin smile. ‘Not speculation. It is
extrapolation
. Theorising from the facts. Probabilities rather than certainties, I will admit. But there is little room for error, isn’t that right, Sturmbannfuhrer?’
    Hoffman had sat still and silent throughout. Now he nodded. ‘It would seem so, Herr Reichsfuhrer.’
    ‘It would seem so,’ Himmler echoed, his voice quiet