‘Where’s Trude?’ Joe shouted, caution to the wind. He could only think of Trude, the torments they had put her through. Thinking she was a spy, a traitor. Now this. His mind was reeling. He could do nothing. Powerless. Not a proper man.

Zepernick nodded at Knackfuss, held his arm in a salute, Heil Hitler, left the room through the door at the side. Knackfuss waited until he had left.

‘So.’ He leaned forward on the desk, hands together. ‘The charge list is long, Father O’Cleary.’ He unclenched his hands, tapped his fingers. ‘You are guilty of spying. You are a partisan. A propagandist for the enemy. You have broken the law on possession of a wireless set and on relationships with German personnel. You are a homosexual.’

Terror and rage burned inside Joe. He had to know. ‘Where is Trude?’

‘A moment,’ Knackfuss said, nodding to one of the Feldpolizisten behind Joe. The Feldpolizist came into view, knocked on the door, returned to Joe’s side.

Knackfuss tapped and twisted the pencil on the table, looking at Joe all the while, a sneer playing on his mouth. He turned.

Zepernick was leading Trude in, accompanied by another man, tall, well-built, in a dark-grey uniform that Joe hadn’t seen before, two jagged lines on the collar. She was wearing her poppy frock, her hands wrenched behind her. She looked at the ground, broken and dejected.

‘Trude,’ Joe shouted, mustered the power from the depths of his body. ‘Trude.’ Turned to Zepernick. ‘What have you done to her?’

Zepernick looked at one of the Feldpolizisten. ‘Release his handcuffs.’

The blood rushed back to Joe’s hands and he pushed himself off the chair.

‘It’s all right, Trude.’ He moved towards her. ‘Trude, I’m so sorry.’ The Feldpolizisten grabbed his arms, one either side, yanked him back. ‘I’m so terribly sorry,’ he shouted, his voice breaking like a little boy’s.

He tried to reach out. Zepernick nodded to the man in the grey uniform.

‘Hauptsturmführer List,’ he said. ‘Proceed.’

List pulled out his Mauser and held it to Trude’s temple.

‘This is what we do to those who break the law on sexual fraternisation. She knew the penalty.’ He smirked. ‘You must have had quite a hold over her. What was your secret?’

‘No. You can’t do that.’

‘Come here,’ List said. ‘Shoot her.’

‘No.’ Joe was shaking his head. ‘No.’

‘She would rather die by the hand of her lover,’ he said. ‘Quick and simple. Will you put her out of her misery?’

‘No,’ Joe said. ‘No I will not. I will have nothing to do with this.’

The Feldpolizist pushed him forward.

‘No,’ Joe was shouting. He was wiry, strong, stood his ground, but he could feel them lifting him. ‘No.’

Zepernick nodded to them. Let him stand.