“There’s something I don’t understand,” I said. “If you know all of this, why am I meeting up with Paul Kestner in Paris?”

Heydrich tutted loudly and looked away for a moment as we drove onto Nollendorf Platz. There he pointed at the Mozart Hall Movie Theater. “The Four Feathers,” he said. “A marvelous picture. Have you seen it?”

“Yes.”

“Quite right. It’s one of the Führer’s favorites. This is a movie about revenge, is it not? Albeit a very British and sentimental kind of revenge. Harry Favisham returns the four white feathers to the same men and woman who had accused him of cowardice. Absurd, really. Speaking for myself, I should have preferred to see my former comrades suffer a little more than they did. And perhaps die, although not without revealing myself as their nemesis. Do you follow me?”

“I’m beginning to, Herr General.”

“As your superior officer, I should inform you that it’s no crime to have been a Communist Party member before one saw the light and became a National Socialist. I should also inform you that Paul Kestner is not without connections in the Wilhelmstrasse, and that these people have decided to overlook his dishonest role in the Mielke affair. Frankly, if we were to cashier every Sipo officer with an unfortunate past, there would be no one left to wear the uniform.”

“Does he know?” I asked. “That his superiors are aware of what he did?”

“No. We prefer to keep things like that in reserve. For when we need to bring a man into line and persuade him to do what he’s told. However”—Heydrich flicked his cigarette into the street and lifted his injured arm—“as you can see, accidents happen. Especially in time of war. And if some harm were to befall Hauptmann Kestner while he was in occupied France, I doubt that anyone would be surprised. Least of all me. After all, it’s a long road between Paris and Toulouse and I daresay there are still a few pockets of French resistance. It would be a tragedy of war, just like the death of Paul Baumer reaching to protect a fledgling bird on the last page of All Quiet on the Western Front.” Heydrich sighed. “Yes. A tragedy. But hardly a matter for regret.”

“I see.”

“Well, it’s entirely a matter for you, Hauptsturmführer Gunther. Your chief inspector rank in Kripo entitles you to the rank of SS captain. The same as Kestner. It makes no difference to me if he lives or dies. It’s your choice.”