“Hey,” I said.

“Bernie Gunther. What brings the Adlon Hotel’s house detective into the Excelsior?” he asked.

“I always forget that this is a hotel. I came in to buy a train ticket.”

“You’re a funny guy, Bernie. Always were.”

“I’d be laughing myself but for all these cops. What’s going on here? I know the Excelsior’s the Gestapo’s favorite watering hole, but usually they don’t make it quite so obvious. There are guys with foreheads in here who look like they just walked out of the Neander Valley. On their knuckles.”

“We got ourselves a VIP,” explained Kuhnast. “Someone from the American Olympic Committee is staying here.”

“I thought the Kaiserhof was the official Olympic hotel.”

“It is. But this was a last-minute thing, and the Kaiserhof couldn’t put him up.”

“Then I guess the Adlon must have been full as well.”

“Take a flick at me,” said Kuhnast. “Be my guest. Those oxtails from the Gestapo have been flicking my ears all day. So some shit-smart fellow from the great Adlon Hotel coming around to straighten my tie for me is all I need.”

“I’m not taking a flick at you, Rolf. Honest. Here, why don’t you let me buy you a drink?”

“I’m surprised that you can afford it, Bernie.”

“I don’t mind getting it free. A house bull’s not doing his job unless he’s got something on the barman. Drop by the Adlon sometime and I’ll show you how philanthropic our hotel barman can be when he’s been caught with his hand in the till.”

“Otto? I don’t believe it.”

“You don’t have to, Rolf. But Frau Adlon will, and she’s not as understanding as me.” I ordered another. “Come on, have a drink. After what just happened to me, I need something to tighten my bowels.”

“What happened?”

“Never you mind. Let’s just say that beer won’t fix it.”

I tossed the schnapps after the other one.

Kuhnast shook his head. “I’d like to, Bernie. But Herr Elschner won’t like it if I’m not around to stop these Nazi bastards from stealing the ashtrays.”

These apparently indiscreet words were guided by an awareness of my own republican-minded past. But he still felt the need for caution. So he walked me out of the bar, through the entrance hall, and into the Palm Court. It was easier to speak freely when no one could hear what we were saying above the Excelsior’s orchestra. These days the weather’s the only really safe thing to talk about in Germany.

“So, the Gestapo are here to protect some Ami?” I shook my head. “I thought Hitler didn’t like Amis.”

“This particular Ami is taking a tour of Berlin to decide if we’re fit to host the Olympic Games in two years’ time.”

“There are two thousand workers to the west of Charlottenburg who are under the strong impression we’re already hosting them.”

“It seems there’s a lot of Amis that want to boycott the Olympiad on the grounds of our government’s anti-Semitism. The Ami is here on a f act-finding mission to see for himself if Germany discriminates against Jews.”