“He’s a bastard,” I said. “What more can I tell you? I have nothing else to say about the man. That day in Johannesgeorgenstadt was the last time I saw him.”

“You could help us to get him.”

“Sure. Before lockdown tonight, I’ll see what I can do for you.”

“Seriously.”

“I’ve told you everything.”

“And it’s been very interesting. Most of it, anyway.”

“Don’t think we’re not grateful, Gunther. Because we are.”

“Might that gratitude stretch as far as letting me go?”

Bow Tie glanced at the Pipe, who nodded vaguely and said, “You know? It might. It just might. Provided you agree to work for us.”

“Oh.” I yawned.

“’Sa matter, Bernie boy? Don’t you want to get out of the stir?”

“We’ll put you on the payroll. We can even get your money back. The money you had when the Coast Guard picked you up in the sea off Gitmo.”

“That’s very generous of you,” I said. “But I’m tired of fighting. And frankly, I can’t see this Cold War of yours being any more worthwhile than the last two I took part in.”

“I’d say it could end up being the most crucial war of all,” said Bow Tie. “Especially if it gets any warmer.”

I shook my head. “You guys make me laugh. The people you want to work for you. Do you always treat them like this?”

“Like what?”

“My mistake. The other day, when I was handcuffed with a hood over my head, I formed the distinct impression you didn’t like my face.”

“That was then.”

“You don’t see us ill-treating you now, do you?”

“Hell, Gunther, you’ve got the best fucking room in the place. Cigarettes, brandy. Tell us what else you need and we’ll see if we can get it for you.”

“They don’t sell what I want in the army PX.”

“And what’s that?”

I shook my head and lit a cigarette. “Nothing. It doesn’t matter.”

“We’re your friends, Gunther.”

“With American friends, who needs enemies?” I pulled a face. “Look, gentlemen, I’ve had American friends before. In Vienna. And there was something about the experience I didn’t like. Even so, I knew their names. And mostly this is a given with the people who claim to be my friends.”

“You’re taking this way too personally, Gunther.”

“Nothing’s been broken that can’t be fixed. We can do this. I’m Mr. Scheuer and this is Mr. Frei. Like we said before, we work for the CIA. At a place called Pullach. You know Pullach?”

“Sure,” I said. “It’s the American part of Munich. Where you kennel all of the tame German shepherds who look after the flock for you in this part of the world. General Gehlen and his pals.”

“Unfortunately, those dogs are not coming to heel the way they used to,” said Scheuer. He was the one with the pipe. “We suspect Gehlen made a private deal with Chancellor Adenauer and that the Germans are about to run their own show from now on.”