It was a little after ten when I arrived, finding the door to the restaurant locked. I pressed my face to the glass and peered inside. The main room was deserted and dark, apart from a wedge of light that spilled from somewhere near the rear wall. By the scant illumination I could make out outlines of tables topped with overturned chairs, looking like deformed trees. I rapped on the glass and saw a woman's shadow emerge from the lighted area and pause where the light inked away into darkness.

With hurried steps, the shadow moved toward me, and as she neared, I could make out Rachel Weiss's face. She unlocked the door and pulled it open.

"Thank God," she said as I stepped inside. She hastily relocked the door. "I was scared you wouldn't come."

I had told her I'd be there at ten. I apologized for being late, but offered no excuse. What could I have told her, that I'd lost track of time thinking about the Nazis I'd killed, and half-fantasized about returning to Germany to kill some more?

"It's all right," she said. "Now that you're here, I can stop worrying."

Her face belied her words. Even bathed in shadows, I could see anxiety written all over it, from her pinched mouth to her restless eyes. They kept shifting from the door to me and back again.

"Yes, you can. I'll take care of everything. After tonight you'll have no more problems." To my surprise, an echo of Greta's voice rang in my head, warning me against being arrogant. Irritated at the vagaries of my mind, I added, "Let's step away from the door."

We walked side by side toward the source of light. It came from the kitchen, which opened to the left near the back wall off the dining room. From its entrance I could see the street door, which meant that anyone standing there would also be able to see me. But that was easy to fix.

"Turn on the lights in the restaurant," I told her, and when she did, I flicked off the lights in the kitchen. This way, I would be shrouded by darkness, in prime position to surprise the man when he arrived.

"This is where I'll stand," I told Rachel Weiss. "When he comes, you open the door for him and lead him back toward me. Here." I pointed to a place toward the end of the serving counter, close to the kitchen. "All right?"