I resisted the rather obvious temptation, and started to explain as best as I was able. ‘I’m working on a case,’ I said. ‘Haupthändler and the girl are wanted for murder — ’

‘Now wait a minute,’ he said. ‘Who’s Haupthandler?’

I felt myself frown and tried harder to concentrate. ‘No, I remember now. They’re calling themselves the Teichmüllers now. Haupthändler and Eva had two new passports, which Jeschonnek organized.’

The Inspektor rocked on his heels at that. ‘Now we’re getting somewhere. Gert Jeschonnek. The body we found, right?’ He turned to his sergeant who produced my Walther PPK at the end of a piece of string from out of a paper bag.

‘Is this your gun, Herr Gunther?’ said the sergeant.

‘Yes, yes,’ I said tiredly. ‘It’s all right, I killed him. It was self-defence. He was going for his gun. He was there to make a deal with Haupthandler. Or Teichmüller, as he’s now calling himself.’ Once again I saw the Inspektor and the sergeant exchange that look. I was starting to get worried.

‘Tell us about this Herr Teichmüller,’ said the sergeant.

‘Haupthändler,’ I said correcting him angrily. ‘You have got him, haven’t you?’ The Inspektor pursed his lips and shook his head. ‘The girl, Eva, what about her?’ He folded his arms and looked at me squarely.

‘Now look, Gunther. Don’t give us the cold cabbage. A neighbour reported hearing a shot. We found you unconscious, a dead body, and two pistols, each of them fired, and a lot of foreign currency. No Teichmüllers, no Haupthandler, no Eva.’

‘No diamonds?’ He shook his head.

The Inspektor, a fat, greasy, weary-looking man with tobacco-stained teeth, sat down opposite me and offered me another cigarette. He took one himself and lit us both in silence. When he spoke again his voice sounded almost friendly.

‘You used to be a bull, didn’t you?’ I nodded, painfully. ‘I thought I recognized the name. You were quite a good one too, as I recall.’

‘Thanks,’ I said.

‘So I don’t have to tell you of all people how this looks from my side of the charge-sheet.’

‘Bad, eh?’

‘Worse than bad.’ The Inspektor rolled his cigarette between his lips for a moment, and winced as the smoke stung his eyeballs. ‘Want me to call you a lawyer?’