“Well, it is very kind of you. The boy has no friends, and Hans is too stiff and gimpy to run around outside kicking a ball.”

Barnard had suddenly looked uncomfortable, as if he were working up the courage to tell him something. “Uh, General, it is none of my business, but your son says he is not too happy at that school he attends.”

“I am aware of that. Did he say why not?”

“His classmates bully him, and all but one of his teachers encourage it.”

Konrad had felt his neck grow warm. “Do they now? Why didn’t my son share this news with me, or at least with my aide?”

Herr Wagner had hesitated, then answered, “Because he admires you, sir, and he’s too brave to tattle.”

Konrad had felt a surge of pride, laced by a slow anger. “I knew something was bothering him beyond grief for his mother. I will question him and get to the bottom of this.”

“But, please, General, don’t tell the boy that I betrayed his confidence. He will never trust me again. I just thought you ought to know. If he were my son, I would want to be informed.”

Konrad had found himself moved by this young man’s concern and compassion for a child he barely knew, the son of a dangerous man. These days people could not risk caring for anyone but themselves, often ensuring their safety by betraying even those they loved. He had laid a hand on the fisherman’s shoulder and said from heartfelt gratitude, “You have my word and appreciation, Herr Wagner. Wilhelm will believe that his father suspected things were not going well at school and investigated. He will never learn that it was you who whispered in my ear. Did he happen to mention the name of the one teacher who does not encourage the bullying?”

“Yes, his name is Herr Claus Bauer. Wilhelm talks fondly of him. The teacher allows him to stay in his classroom during lunchtime to avoid eating with his tormentors.”

“Which means that my son goes without a midday meal,” Konrad said, the rage that could strike like a whip beginning to uncoil. “Herr Claus Bauer. I shall remember the name.”