She opened the flap and stepped inside.

Berthold was neat, for a man. His clothes were folded in a suitcase, and there was a drawstring bag full of laundry. He had a sponge bag containing a safety razor and shaving soap. His bed was made of canvas stretched across metal tubing. Beside the bed was a small pile of magazines in German. It all looked innocent.

Don’t rush, she told herself. Look carefully for clues. Who is this man and what is he doing here?

A sleeping bag was folded on top of the camp bed. When Lili picked it up she felt something heavy. She unzipped the bag and rummaged inside. She found a book of pornographic photos—and a gun.

It was a small black pistol with a short barrel. She did not know much about firearms, and she could not identify the make, but she thought it was what they called a nine-millimeter. It looked designed to be concealed.

She stuffed it into the pocket of her jeans.

She had the answer to her question. Berthold was not a know-all braggart. He was a Stasi agent, sent here to spread scare stories and discourage escapers.

Lili refolded the sleeping bag and stepped out of the tent. Berthold was not in sight. She quickly laced up the tent flap with trembling fingers. Another few seconds and she would be safe. As soon as Berthold looked for his gun, he would know that someone had been there, but if she could get away now he would never know who. Lili guessed he would not even report the theft to the Hungarian police, for they would surely disapprove of a German secret agent bringing a pistol to one of their holiday camps.

She walked briskly away.

Karolin was in Helmut and Alice’s tent, and they were talking in low voices, still arguing about whether the border crossing might be a trap. Lili interrupted the discussion. “Berthold is a Stasi agent,” she said. “I searched his tent.” She drew the gun from her pocket.

“That’s a Makarov,” said Helmut, who had served in the army. “A Soviet-made semiautomatic pistol, standard issue for the Stasi.”

Lili said: “If the border really were a trap, the Stasi would be keeping the fact secret. The way Berthold is telling everyone pretty much proves it’s not true.”

Helmut nodded. “That’s good enough for me. We’re going.”

They all stood up. Helmut said to Lili: “Would you like me to get rid of the gun?”

“Yes, please.” She handed it over, relieved to be rid of it.

“I’ll find a secluded spot on the beach and throw it in the lake.”

While Helmut was doing that, the women put towels and swimsuits and bottles of sun lotion into the trunk of the Trabi as if they were going off for a day’s outing, maintaining the fiction of a family holiday. When Helmut came back, they drove to the grocery and bought cheese, bread, and wine for a picnic.