Rachel Fischer looked out at the Essex marshlands as her train sped towards London's Fenchurch Street station on a hot summer's morning in 1966. She was expecting just another uneventful day at the Polish Embassy, where she worked part-time as a translator. She thought about her parents, Izaak and Rebekah, who she'd last seen on the day before the Krakow ghetto was liquidated by the Nazis in 1943. She had no idea what happened to them and feared the worst. Her search for the truth had proved elusive - until now. She never spotted the man who jumped on the train out of the shadows at the last minute. He sat patiently, one carriage back, awaiting his moment as the final steps of his master plan were being played out. It would certainly not be just another day at the office and by the end of it, lives would change forever.