Slaton did. He handed it over and the man took a cursory glance. The German opened a locked drawer using a key from a ring on his belt, and pulled out twenty-four euros, counting twice. When his hand went back into the drawer, deeper this time, Slaton tensed and watched closely—he knew what else was often kept in locked cash drawers.

What came out was a piece of hard stock paper. The man handed it all over in one stack. “Here’s your voucher for the train back to Sassnitz.”

Slaton relaxed. He was tired, the kind of fatigue that could bring mistakes. He took the money and the voucher, and asked, “Where is train station?”

The man pointed down the street.

“How do I get there?”

“You walk.”

“It is far?”

The weathered German smiled. “Yes.”

*   *   *

Slaton arrived at Munich Central Station at 8:58. The walk had in fact been two miles, easily manageable by the recent standards he’d been setting. Along the way he discreetly dropped the Beretta into a storm drain, seeing few positives in traveling with a concealed weapon that was empty.

At the station he presented the voucher at a ticket window, explaining that he wished to amend his destination. The agent told him that yes, he could change the ticket, but a fee would apply. Fortunately, the original value of the voucher was far in excess of the new fare, and even with the change fee subtracted Slaton was due a refund of nineteen euros.

He spent six on breakfast, a sweet pastry and dark coffee, and as he waited for his train to Switzerland he found two discarded newspapers, Bild and Die Welt. World leaders were addressing climate change, the Deutschmark had fallen, and another screen starlet had died in a hotel bathtub. He found only one small paragraph referencing a fading manhunt in Stockholm, the most interesting revelation being that there was a new detective in charge, Inspector Sanderson having been taken off the case for unspecified medical issues. Slaton was glad, because Sanderson had seemed competent, and doubly so because the ensuing handover would lend itself to confusion and lost leads.