He pursed his lips and shook his head. "In my opinion, she's a hero, Adam, but most people won't see her that way. What they'll see is a woman who went to bed with an enemy officer, regardless of why she did it and how many Jews benefited from her actions. Do I need to tell you what words they'll use to describe her?"

"No," I said bitterly. So Mira had been right.

"I don't think she deserves that," said Birnbaum.

"What she deserves is to be celebrated as a hero."

"And one day, a few years from now, perhaps, she will be. Look, Adam, we're a young country. We need our heroes to be pure, just like a young child sees his parents. We can't process gray, only black and white. When we grow up, when we mature, then we will be able to appreciate Esther Grunewald and the hard and unseemly sacrifices she had to make."

"I understand," I said.

"I wish it were different," said Birnbaum.

35

The next night, after all the customers had gone, Greta locked the door to the café and came to sit with me at my table.

She had made a fresh pot of coffee and now proceeded to fill two cups, handing me one. I set it down on the table to let it cool. For now, the wonderful aroma it emitted was enough.

While the coffee cooled, I told Greta everything that had happened, from the night Alon Davidson attacked me to my last meeting with Michael. She listened in silence, shaking her head in disgust and anger when I told her about Leah Goldin's betrayal of Esther and of Strauss's attempted rape of her. She broke the silence when I got to the part about the assassin who had followed me from the café to the beach.

"So that was what that whole nonsense was about," Greta said. "I thought you had a screw loose—telling me to act naturally and informing me that you were going for a walk on the beach." She frowned. "Why the beach?"

"I wanted a secluded place where I could talk to him."

"Wasn't that risky?"

"It was. But I had an advantage: he didn't know that I was onto him and that I had a gun with me. Besides, there was no choice. He had information I needed."

"And you got it," Greta said.

"I did."

"And the man?"

I told her. She pursed her lips and looked away for a few seconds. Then she returned her eyes to me.

"It had to be done, didn't it?"

"Yes," I said. "It did. And he deserved it."

Greta gave a short nod to herself, sealing the matter. She sipped her coffee. She did not ask about Strauss. She didn't need to. His death had made front-page news in a couple of newspapers. He was found dead in his office with three bullets in him. The police were said to be pursuing a number of leads, but I doubted any of them would pan out. Mira would not have left any incriminating evidence. The police had also not made any connection between Strauss and the dead man who was found a few days earlier in a shed on the beach.