‘You’ll never teach these Europeans to be good citizens. It was his duty.’ Cooler brooded sadly over his glass. ‘It’s an odd thing, Mr Martins, with accidents. You’ll never get two reports that coincide. Why, even Mr Kurtz and I disagreed about details. The thing happens so suddenly, you aren’t concerned to notice things, until bang crash, and then you have to reconstruct, remember. I expect he got too tangled up trying to sort out what happened before and what after, to distinguish the four of us.’

‘The four?’

‘I was counting Harry. What else did he see, Mr Martins?’

‘Nothing of interest – except he says Harry was dead when he was carried to the house.’

‘Well, he was dying – not much difference there. Have another drink, Mr Martins?’

‘No, I don’t think I will.’

‘Well, I’d like another spot. I was very fond of your friend, Mr Martins, and I don’t like talking about it.’

‘Perhaps one more – to keep you company. Do you know Anna Schmidt?’ Martins asked, while the whisky tingled on his tongue.

‘Harry’s girl? I met her once, that’s all. As a matter of fact, I helped Harry fix her papers. Not the sort of thing I should confess to a stranger, I suppose, but you have to break the rules sometimes. Humanity’s a duty too.’

‘What was wrong?’

‘She was Hungarian and her father had been a Nazi, so they said. She was scared the Russians would pick her up.’

‘Why should they want to?’

‘We can’t always figure out why they do these things. Perhaps just to show that it’s not healthy being friends with an Englishman.’

‘But she lives in the British zone.’

‘That wouldn’t stop them. It’s only five minutes’ ride in a jeep from the Commandatura. The streets aren’t well lighted, and you haven’t many police around.’

‘You took her some money from Harry, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, but I wouldn’t have mentioned that. Did she tell you?’

The telephone rang, and Cooler drained his glass. ‘Hullo,’ he said. ‘Why, yes. This is Colonel Cooler.’ Then he sat with the receiver at his ear and an expression of sad patience, while some voice a long way off drained into the room. ‘Yes,’ he said once. ‘Yes.’ His eyes dwelt on Martins’ face, but they seemed to be looking a long way beyond him: flat and tired and kind, they might have been gazing out across the sea. He said, ‘You did quite right,’ in a tone of commendation, and then, with a touch of asperity, ‘Of course they will be delivered. I gave my word. Good-bye.’

He put the receiver down and passed a hand across his forehead wearily. It was as though he were trying to remember something he had to do. Martins said, ‘Had you heard anything of this racket the police talk about?’

‘I’m sorry. What’s that?’