“I don’t know. All I know is that we’re to meet a woman wearing a blue headscarf reading the Volkischer Beobachter. She will leave the paper on the bench in the center of the maze, and we will then pick it up. In it will be the plans. I don’t know how detailed they are or anything else about them.”

“It’s a start,” said Lockhart. “In the meantime, I need to speak to Strasser.”

“What about?”

“Well, we need a few things. It’s time he stuck his neck out.”

Strasser was incredulous. Lockhart’s list of demands was intolerable, absurd.

“There’s absolutely no way that I am going to issue you with any of this equipment!”

Lockhart sat in front of him, cockily chewing on a biscuit that he had taken off a plate on Strasser’s desk, taken without even asking.

“Carl,” said Lockhart. “Carl. You have no choice. You have to help me, otherwise…”

“That’s enough!”

Lockhart was being condescending toward him, playing with him. He had half a mind to get up and shoot him here and now.

“And what are you proposing to do with all this equipment?” Strasser asked.

“That’s my business. All you have to do is supply it. Come on—I thought this was your line of work, procuring weapons. You must have some old pal who can help you.”

Strasser thought briefly of Max, his colleague back in Berlin. Max with his one ear, probably still sitting in that small office with the ferocious Frau Buch. Max wouldn’t ask too many questions; he would be willing to help out an old friend. If he had to ask him, he would.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” said Strasser, shuffling some papers in front of him. He just wanted to get Lockhart out of the office.

“I don’t believe you.”

Strasser shook his head and leaned back.

“I’m sorry, Lockhart—you can threaten me as much as you like, but I really cannot help you. Practically every gun, every round, every piece of explosive is going to the front line. What it’s not doing is staying here in Germany.”

“I still don’t believe you,” said Lockhart. “I know you can help me. You know you can help me—you know you have to help me. If you don’t, I shall simply ask our mutual friend to go to her superiors and tell them about your indiscreet behavior. I don’t think they will be entirely happy to hear about it.”

Strasser slammed his hand down on the table.

“Listen! I am not going to help you! Now get out!”

“No.”

Damn him! Lockhart was being downright impudent. Strasser unbuttoned his holster.

“If you don’t leave…”

Strasser’s words trailed off. The still-seated Lockhart had beaten him to it, and was already pointing a Luger at his chest.

“What…do you think you’re doing?”