“What does it look like?”

The fool! It wouldn’t be loaded.

“You’re aiming an empty gun at me,” said Strasser.

“Is that right?”

Lockhart cocked the weapon.

“I know perfectly well you don’t have any ammunition for that gun.”

Lockhart smiled.

“Well, Carl, there’s only one way to find out. Do you want to take that chance?”

No he didn’t. Lockhart had probably found some ammunition—presumably that bitch in Berlin had supplied him with it. Fucking whore. He should never have gotten involved with her, never opened his mouth.

“There’s something else I need, Carl.”

“What?”

“A truck. I also need a truck.”

“A truck! Anything else you might need? A fucking villa perhaps?”

Lockhart uncocked the Luger.

“No thanks, Carl. But it’s good of you to be so thoughtful.”

They arrived at the Grosser Garten in Hanover at midday. Lockhart was impressed with the huge formal gardens, which were thronging with families, soldiers on leave, couples arm-in-arm—all enjoying the heat of the day. With his pay, Lockhart had bought himself a jacket, a casual shirt, some shoes and some trousers. They were badly made, and felt rough, but he blended in with the crowds far better than he would have had he been wearing his uniform. He had even found a holster in the stores at the St. Michael Cloister, into which he had slipped his Luger.

At her suggestion, Leni had put her arm inside his. It made them look more natural, more like just another couple.

“It’s nice to be out at last,” said Leni.

“I bet,” said Lockhart. “I expect your landlady thought you were mad staying in the whole time.”

“I pretended I was ill.”

Although they were indulging in small talk, their eyes were darting around the park, taking in every figure they thought looked suspicious. There was a chance, and they both knew it, that Leni’s network had been compromised, that the whole meeting in the park was a setup.

“Have you noticed anyone?” Lockhart asked.

Leni shook her head gently.

“No—I don’t think so.”

“It’s almost impossible to tell. Anybody here could work for them.”

They walked slowly, like lovers. Lockhart found Leni’s grip comforting, but he promised himself not to get distracted, to keep his mind on the rendezvous.

“What time is the collection?”

“One o’clock.”

“I’d prefer it,” said Lockhart, “if we went there now. I’d feel a lot happier if I knew my way ’round this maze. Besides, if she’s already there, I’ll want to abandon it.”

“Why?”