‘Did you? Yes, I thought I heard a couple of shots.’ If he felt any fear or irritation at this piece of information, he did not show it.

‘You’d better come up to the house,’ he said, and began to walk slowly towards the house, with me following a short way behind.

When we got within sight of the house I saw Ilse Rudel’s blue BMW parked outside, and I wondered if I would see her. But it was the presence on the lawn of a large marquee that prompted me to break the silence between us.

‘Planning a party?’

‘Er, yes, a party. It’s my wife’s birthday. Just a few friends, you know.’

‘So soon after the funeral?’ My tone was bitter, and I saw that Six had noticed it too. As he walked along he searched first the sky and then the ground for an explanation.

‘Well, I’m not — ’ he began. And then: ‘One can’t — one cannot mourn one’s loss indefinitely. Life must go on.’ Recovering some of his composure he added: ‘I thought that it would be unfair to my wife to cancel her plans. And of course, we both have a position in society.’

‘We mustn’t forget that, must we?’ I said. Leading us up to the front door, he said nothing, and I wondered if he was going to call for help. He pushed it open, and we stepped into the hall.

‘No butler today?’ I observed.

‘It’s his day off,’ said Six, hardly daring to catch my eye. ‘But there is a maid if you would like some refreshment. You must be quite warm after your little excitement.’

‘Which one?’ I said. ‘Thanks to you I’ve had several “little excitements”.’

He smiled thinly. ‘The dogs, I mean.’

‘Oh yes, the dogs. Yes, I am quite warm as it happens. They were big dogs. But I’m quite a shot, even though I say so myself.’ We went in to the library.

‘I enjoy shooting myself. But only for sport. I don’t suppose I’ve ever shot anything bigger than a pheasant.’

‘Yesterday, I shot a man,’ I said. ‘That’s my second one in as many weeks. Since I started to work for you, Herr Six, it’s become a bit of a habit with me, you know.’ He stood awkwardly in front of me, his hands clasped behind his neck. He cleared his throat and threw the cigar butt into the cold fireplace. When eventually he spoke, he sounded embarrassed, as though he were about to dismiss an old and faithful servant who had been caught stealing.