“I was sure he would be,” I said, but everyone knew that Koch was looking out for his own interests most of all. I had a good idea that the Park Hotel where I was living was actually owned by the Erich Koch Institute and that the army was obliged to pay Koch four marks a night for every officer staying there, but I thought it best to confine my comments to general approval of the gauleiter. Koch was notoriously touchy and inclined to order the arrest and execution of anyone critical of his absolute rule. Public executions were common in Königsberg, with bodies left hanging from lampposts near the refugee camps on the southern side of the city where, it was believed, there was a much greater need for discipline.

“And what service do you perform for Governor Koch?” I asked Hennig, being careful not to mention blackmail and extortion.

He shook his head and poured some wine into a glass. “You might say that I’m his aide-de-camp. A military liaison officer. Just a glorified messenger, really. The governor issues an order and I have the job of conveying it to the military commander. Or anyone else who matters.” He smiled at Irmela. “And what about you, my dear? I can see that you’re in the naval auxiliary but doing what, may I ask.”

“I’m in signals.”

“Ah. You’re a Valkyrie. A lightning maiden. No wonder this fellow Gunther is spending time with you, my dear. He always did like to stand a little too close to high voltages. In nineteen thirty-eight, he almost got his fingers burned. Didn’t you, Gunther?”

“It’s a wonder I have any fingerprints left,” I said.

At this Irmela picked up my right hand and kissed my fingertips, one by one, and while I appreciated the tenderness of her gesture, I could have wished that she’d not done this in front of Harold Hennig, for whom all knowledge was power, probably. It wasn’t that I thought he might tell my wife, but there was just something about him knowing about us I didn’t like.

He grinned. “Well, we’re all survivors, eh?”

“For how much longer, though,” I said. “That’s the question.”

“A word of advice, old fellow,” said Hennig. “There are only two people in East Prussia who still believe in the final victory. One of them is Adolf Hitler. The other is Erich Koch. So, if I were you, I’d avoid defeatist talk like that. I’d hate to see you end up decorating a lamppost for the edification of some foreign workers and refugees.”

“It’s horrible the way they do that,” said Irmela.