At midnight on 1 October 1966, a Mercedes limousine left the main gate of Spandau prison in Berlin: inside the car, blinking as the flash bulbs of the assembled press corps exploded around him, sat a silver-haired man in late middle-age. Albert Speer, principal architect and Munitions minister of Hitler’s Reich, and the Führer’s favourite acolyte, was tasting freedom for the first time in more than 20 years. What would he do with the rest of his life?
Speer spent the decade and a half left to him (before he expired in a London hotel room in 1981, of a stroke possibly brought on by sexual exertions with a still-unidentified young mistress) in erecting a rather different design than
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