Yet the newer edition nestled that story inside two bookended scenes. This version, unsurprisingly, bore the approval stamp of Goebbels’s propaganda wing. The two framing scenes were brief, but revealed that in truth, the man investigating the murders was the madman, and Caligari the harmless asylum director trying to cure him of his delusions. Trust in the system. Any evidence the system is broken is only your own mind deceiving you.

Liam barely resisted the urge to rip the film right off its reel.

Wood planks groaned above and around him as people moved along the bell tower stairs. Instinctively, his hand moved toward the false panel where he’d hidden his satchel and P38, but he thought better of it. It was Daniel and Rebeka finishing their meal. He’d get confirmation first that the coast was clear. Then they could be on their way.

No sooner had he taken his hand away from the panel than the door to the projection room swung open. A yelp lodged in Liam’s throat, bitten back just in time. In the doorway stood an SS officer, his cheekbones sharp, his cheeks hollowed out like shallow graves. A sour expression pinched his lips that could equally have been a sneer or a smirk. He nearly had to duck to step inside the projection room.

“Pardon the intrusion, good sir,” he said in silky-smooth German. “We heard a vicious rumor some villagers were harboring unpatriotic fugitives. I’m sure you won’t mind if we have a look around.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

SIMONE

That morning, Simone woke in the church’s sanctuary to their hostess, Helene, towering over her with her one hand propped on a generous hip. “Unless you want to watch Die Große Liebe with a few dozen SS officers at the matinee,” Helene said, “I suggest you make yourself scarce.”

Simone pushed off of the velvet-cushioned pew. Her pocketknife and a hunk of spare wood lay further down the bench, where she’d been whittling a bird figurine the previous night to lull herself into restless sleep. She worked her feet back into her boots. “Depends. What’s it about?”

“The importance of waging war and marrying good Aryan girls. I assume. I try not to listen too closely.” Helene stepped back to let her out of the pew. “There’s pumpernickel and ham in the kitchens. Plumbing seems to be working for now if you’d like a shower. You should visit Karl and Guillerme soon to help them with your business—I’ll show you the safe way there.”

Simone moved past her, in the direction of the kitchens. “Thank you.” She would never understand Europeans and their obsession with pork. “Have there been any updates out of Siegen?”