In September 1940, King Carol II’s armoured train hurtled towards Romania’s western border. Aboard were his paramour, a small group of courtesans, three poodles and 30 truckloads of the royal fortune. For years, the Romanian monarch had held out against pressure from Hitler, but now his reign was over. The only question was whether he would escape alive.
At Timișoara, several miles down the line, a fascist death squad would be waiting with machine guns. Not stopping the train ran the risk of being derailed by dynamite. Stopping probably meant being executed. Before the war, Carol had been famous for loving women, hunting and fast cars, and for spending lavishly on all three. He had been a playboy and a wild card. Now, he gave the train operator one command: full speed ahead.