“You don’t believe me, but I promise you that you are. If I hadn’t liked you so much, you’d have died months ago. There’s no need to look so puzzled, Carl. I’m sure you can guess what I’m going to say.”

Once more, a small shake of the head. The bathwater rippled slightly.

“I’m very disappointed, Carl. Have a guess.”

“I…I just don’t know.”

Leni tutted.

“All right—I’ll put you out of your misery. I’m a spy, Carl, a spy for the SD. It’s my job to report on all those naughty boys who don’t keep their traps shut. And do you know what happens to naughty boys who talk too much?”

This time, Strasser nodded. Leni would never have imagined that he could look so surprised.

“What happens, Carl?”

“I…I expect they disappear.”

“That’s right. They disappear. Forever.”

Strasser knew exactly what that meant. He had once heard from Max, back at the Hauptamt, about a fellow hauptsturmführer who had been in trouble with the SD. Apparently, the first the man’s wife had heard about his fate was a bill for 746 Reichsmarks and 60 Reichspfennigs. The figure, Max had told him, had been broken down: 300 Reichsmarks were put down as “Fee for Death Penalty;” 158 Reichsmarks and 18 Reichspfennigs were for the “Cost of Execution (Beheading).” Strasser had not believed it, had not wanted to believe it, but Max had assured him it was true.

“But…but what about me?” Strasser asked.

“What about you?”

“Have you told anybody…”

“No, Carl—I haven’t. Now can you see why you’re such a lucky boy?”

Another nod, this time far more enthusiastic.

“But why didn’t you tell anybody?”

“Because I like you,” said Leni.

“Yes?”

“And I didn’t want to see you beheaded.”

Strasser’s eyes enlarged considerably.

“Well,” said Leni, “aren’t you going to thank me?”

“Thank you. Really, thank you.”

“Good. I’m glad my little concession to you has been appreciated.”

Strasser stayed silent.

“So you see,” Leni continued, “that you are now effectively in my debt.”

“Yes, of course. What would you…”

“What would I like you to do?”

“Yes,” said Strasser keenly. “Whatever it is—I’ll do it.”

“You mean that?”

“God, yes.”

“Good. And you realize what will happen if you don’t help me?”

“What?”

“I’ll tell the SD that you talk too much.”

“What do you want me to do, Leni? Do you want money? I don’t have much….”

“I don’t want money, Carl. If I wanted money, do you think I’d have chosen you? A mere hauptsturmführer?”

“I suppose not.”

“What I want is something far more important to me than money.”

“What is it?”

“I want you to release Hauptsturmführer Lockhart from prison.”

Strasser clutched the sides of the bath as if he was trying to get up.

“Lockhart? But…”

“That’s right,” said Leni.

“But how do you know about Lockhart? What’s he got to do with you?”

“Neither of those things are any of your business.”

“But it’s impossible! I don’t have the authority….”