Schroeder was about to go into his usual reply, that he was a Swede named Arne Svensen, but he stopped himself. There would have to come a time when he began to trust other human beings, and it might as well be now. “You have a good ear. I am Austrian. My name is Karl Schroeder.”

“Nice to meet you, Karl,” she said with a demure smile. “I'd like to go trout fishing, but I don't know where. Could you recommend a reliable guide?”

Schroeder gave her a big-toothed grin.

“Yes,” he said. “I know just the man for you.”