I nodded, and she went out of my room and returned a moment later carrying a brass extinguisher. Made by the Pyrene Manufacturing Company of Delaware, it had an integrated hand-pump that was used to expel a jet of liquid toward a fire and contained about nine liters of carbon tetrachloride. The container wasn’t pressurized and was designed to be refilled with a fresh supply of chemical after use through a filling plug.

“When I found you, the filler cap had been removed,” she said. “And the extinguisher was lying beside your bed. The chemical had poured onto the carpet beneath your nose. In other words, it looked deliberate.”

“Have you mentioned this to anyone?”

“No one’s asked me. Everyone believes it was an accident.”

“For your own safety, it would be best if they continue to believe that, Renata.”

She nodded.

“Did you see anyone enter or leave my room? Or hanging around in the corridor outside?”

Renata thought for a moment. “I don’t know. To be honest, with everyone in uniform, all Germans look more or less alike.”

“But not all of them are as handsome as me, surely?”

“That’s true. Perhaps that’s why they tried to kill you. Out of jealousy.”

I grinned. “I never thought of that. As a motive, I mean.”

She sighed. “Look, there’s something I haven’t told you. And I want your word that you’ll leave my name out of it whenever you do what it is you’re going to do. I don’t want any trouble.”

“It’ll be fine,” I said. “I’ll look after you.”

“And who looks after you? Maybe you were a champion when you walked into this hotel, but right now you look like you’re in need of a good cornerman.”

“All right. I’ll keep you out of it. You have my word.”

“As a German officer.”

“What’s that worth after Munich?”

“Good point.”

“How about my word as someone who detests Hitler and all that he stands for, including this ridiculous uniform?”

“Better,” she said.

“And who might wish the German army had never crossed the Rhine except for one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I wouldn’t have met you, Renata.”

She laughed and looked away for a moment. She was wearing a black uniform and a little white pinafore. Hesitantly, she put a hand in the pocket of her pinafore and took out a brass plug about the size of a champagne cork. Handing it to me, she said, “I found this. The missing plug from the fire extinguisher in your room. It was in the wastepaper basket of the man in room fifty-five.”

“Good girl. Can you find out the name of the officer who’s in fifty-five?”

“I already did. His name is Lieutenant Willms. Nikolaus Willms.” She paused. “Do you know him?”