‘Ashamed in what way?’

‘I feel I should have done something: maybe Klaus and I felt that promising ourselves we would return the property to Herr Mayer was enough, but other people in other places in Europe, one hears about how brave they were…’

Hanne assured Frau Winkler there was nothing someone like her could have done. ‘But perhaps you can help me now. Do you know about any Nazis who were in the town – I don’t mean so much during the war, but perhaps people who’ve been active in the six months since the war ended? Maybe you’re aware of something suspicious?’

Frau Winkler moved back in her seat. She was a tiny woman, and the armchair appeared to envelop her. She shook her head and frowned, and Hanne wasn’t surprised. She hadn’t really expected this widow in her late sixties to know anything, and she couldn’t blame her. Avoiding trouble was almost an act of resistance in itself.

‘I did have a friend, though, Frau Egger – perhaps friend is the wrong word. I’ve known her for years, in fact we were at school together, but she is a most unpleasant woman. She loves gossip and she loves using people, and she also loves a bargain: she expected a generous discount in the shop. I tolerated her before the war, no more than that, but once the war began, she became an active member of the Nazi Party, and in fact was the Blockleiter in this area – you know what that is? A Blockleiter was a Nazi who kept their eyes and ears open in a particular area, sometimes just a street or an apartment building. I encouraged her to believe we were good friends because I reasoned that one day I might need her: you never know, someone might have asked questions about me – that kind of thing happened all the time. Fortunately that need never arose. Since the end of the war, the foolish woman has been devastated: she comes into the shop and tells me how terrible everything is, and I take some pleasure in no longer allowing her the discount I felt obliged to give her during the war. I tell her times are hard – she understands that.’

Hanne nodded politely and wondered how she could explain that she needed to leave soon without appearing rude. Frau Winkler was clearly unable to help: she just wanted to talk.

‘Frau Winkler, maybe I—’

‘Hang on, my dear, please… You asked me if I’ve been aware of anything since the war ended, and that’s what I’m coming to. You see, in the middle of September, Frau Egger came into the shop and was in a far better mood than she had been for a while. She was very upbeat and chose a fine pair of leather gloves for the winter and didn’t even ask for a discount. She told me she had a job – a very important one, she said, a reward for her loyalty to the Reich. She said she’d been approached by a man from Vienna who’d heard she was a good Nazi and a Blockleiter and that her sons had been in the Waffen SS. He told her he’d bought a house overlooking the Ossiacher See, which is a lake about five miles north-east of the town – you may have seen it. He wanted Frau Egger to work there as a housekeeper, going in to clean every day and doing the cooking when people stayed there. She found it hard to contain herself: she said very important people stay at the house, though usually only for a day or two. She also said there was an armed guard there. She said she’d been sworn to secrecy but knew she could trust me: she was beside herself with excitement. It had quite clouded her judgement.’