To my surprise, he completed the verse: “ ‘Murder on murder blinks in childish eyes.’ Yes, I know that poem. Me, I was Second Royal Württemburg, Twenty-seventh Division. You?”

“Twenty-sixth Div.”

“Then we were in the same battle.”

I nodded. “Amiens. August 1918.”

I offered him a cigarette, and he took a light from my own, trench style, not to waste a match.

“Two graduates of the university of mud,” he said. “Scholars of human evolution.”

“Ah, yes. The ascent of man.” I grinned, remembering the old saying. “When someone kills you not with a bayonet, but with a machine gun; not with a machine gun, but with a flamethrower; not with a flamethrower, but with poison gas.”

“What are you doing here, friend?”

“Just looking around.”

“Well, you’re not allowed. Not anymore. Didn’t you see the sign?”

“No,” I answered truthfully.

“We’re way behind schedule as it is. We’re already working three shifts. So we don’t have time for visitors.”

“It doesn’t look too busy here.”

“Most of the lads are on the other side of that earthwork,” he said, pointing to the west of the site. “You sure you’re not from the ministry?”

“Of the Interior? No. Why do you ask?”

“Because they’ve threatened to replace any construction companies that aren’t pulling their weight, that’s why. I thought you might be spying on us.”

“I’m no spy. Hell, I’m not even a Nazi. The truth is, I came out here to look for someone. A fellow by the name of Joey Deutsch. Maybe you know him.”

“No.”

“Maybe the site foreman’s heard of him.”

“That would be me. The name’s Blask, Heinrich Blask. Why are you looking for this fellow, anyway?”

“It’s not like he’s in trouble or anything. And I’m not about to tell him he’s won a fortune on the lottery.” I was wondering exactly what I was going to tell him, until I remembered the fight tickets in my pocket: the ones we’d bought off Gypsy Trollmann. “The fact is, I manage a couple of fighters, and I want Joey to train them. I don’t know what he’s like with a pick and a shovel, but Joey’s a pretty good trainer. One of the best. He’d be in the game right now, but for the obvious reason.”

“Which is?”

“With a name like Deutsch? He’s a kike. And kikes aren’t allowed in gyms. At least not the gyms that are open to the public. Me, I’ve got my own gym. So no one’s offended, right?”

“Maybe you don’t know, but we’re not allowed to employ non-Aryan labor here,” said Blask.