Hedda nodded. “Take a few days off, why don’t you? The rest of the week, if you like. After five nights in jail you could probably use a break. Your friend Herr Stahlecker will cover for you.” She nodded. “It’s worked out very well with him. He doesn’t have your experience, but—”

“Perhaps I will take some time off. Thanks.” I finished my second drink. It didn’t taste any better than the first. “Incidentally, is Max Reles still staying in the hotel?”

“Yes, I think so. Why?”

“No reason.”

“He told me you got his property back for him. He was very pleased.”

I nodded. “Maybe I’ll go away somewhere. Würzburg, perhaps.”

“Have you got family in Würzburg?”

“No. But I’ve always wanted to go there. It’s the capital of Franconia, you know. Besides, it’s the opposite end of Germany from Hamburg.”

I didn’t mention Dr. Rubusch, or the fact that the only reason I was going there was that he was from Würzburg.

“Stay at the Palace Hotel Russia House,” she said. “I believe it’s the best hotel in the state. Have a rest. Catch up on some sleep. You look tired. Put your feet up. If you like, I’ll telephone the hotel manager and get you a special rate.”

“Thanks. I will.” But I didn’t tell her that the last thing I intended to do was put my feet up. Not now that Noreen was gone out of my life for good.

Chapter 26

26

LEAVING THE ADLON, I walked east to the Alex. The railway station was bristling with SS, and yet another military band was getting ready to welcome some self-important government bonzo. There are times when I swear I think we have more military bands than the French and the English put together. Maybe it’s just a lot of Germans playing it safe. No one ever accused you of being unpatriotic when you were playing a flugelhorn or a tuba. Not in Germany.

Tearing myself away from the palpable excitement in the air around the station, I walked into the Alex. Seldte, the smart young fellow from SCHUPO, was still on duty at the front desk.

“I see your career is leaping ahead.”

“Isn’t it?” he said. “If I stay here for much longer, I’ll turn into one of these freaks myself. If you’re looking for Herr Trettin, I saw him head out of here about twenty minutes ago.”

“Thanks, but I was hoping to see Liebermann von Sonnenberg.”

“Would you like me to call his office?”

Fifteen minutes later I was sitting opposite the Berlin chief of KRIPO and smoking one of the Black Wisdom cigars Bernhard Weiss had been obliged to leave behind when he left.