‘Intimidating?’

‘Couldn’t have chosen a better word.’

‘I’ve been told it’s the eyebrow. Like it or not, it’s here to stay.’

Wilde approached the woman and asked her in German if she had been here when two men were killed in a car along the road.

‘Are you Ami?’

‘Yes, I’m American.’

‘The two men who were killed, it was a great tragedy. Everyone in these parts was shocked.’

That sounded like a lie. Too many people hereabouts had been killed in violent circumstances to worry about the fate of two American soldiers. ‘Had you seen them driving past?’ he asked.

‘It’s possible. I don’t really take much notice of which cars go past. I heard two shots, but they were muffled and distant and I thought there was a hunter in the woods. Lots of hunters around because there isn’t much food rations for Germans. It was only an hour later when all the Ami jeeps came racing up that I heard what had happened. Truly a tragedy. Were the men friends of yours?’

‘Yes, actually, they were.’ He was looking at her and her wares, laid out on the table. She was clearly talkative, but that could mean anything. Her clothes were shabby and her solitary eye didn’t stray from him for a moment. ‘Do you do much trade here, gnädige Frau?’

‘It’s a good spot. There are no shops or bars nearby so I am the only place to get a little food or a beer. People stop because they are thirsty or they like to look at souvenirs. Amis like the Nazi stuff.’

‘And where do you live?’

‘There’s a village, two kilometres through the woods. That’s my home. Why? Why do you ask these questions?’

Suddenly, Heck lunged forward and snatched the cigarette from her mouth. It was a stunted, crumpled thing that had long since gone out. He studied it closely. ‘What make are these? Stolen Yankee cigarettes, yes? I could haul you in for this.’

‘No, sir, they are legal. British cigarettes – Senior Service from Naafi in English sector. They sell them to a friend of mine. I give him a good price. You want some?’

‘The Americans who died had half a pack of Senior Service. They must have bought them here.’

The woman looked confused, her one eye blinking frantically, and suddenly her loquacity deserted her. Struggling for an answer, she backed away from her table – and from the imposing figure of Heck.

‘Well?’ Wilde demanded. ‘Did the Americans stop here before they were shot?’

‘I don’t know. How should I know? People stop here . . . I don’t know who they are.’

Wilde put his arm out to hold Heck back. ‘Two Amis, lady. You must have seen them that day, and you must know it. You sold them cigarettes. What happened? Was there someone else here – someone who climbed in the back of the car while they weren’t looking?’

She shook her head violently. ‘No, that didn’t happen. I’m certain. I would have seen.’