“This time . . . I knew it was to happen and I was in my office waiting. The gunfire started when I expected and I heard screams. All normal. Then I noticed that the screams didn’t stop and the gunfire did. At first I thought it was wounded Jews and my men would finish them off in a second. But the screaming went on and I knew something was wrong. I didn’t move at first. I don’t know why. Maybe just malaise that comes after hours at a desk, or maybe I had a premonition. Anyway, I sat there, staring at Himmler’s picture on the wall . . . a visage to make anyone torpid.” He grinned companionably.

Bianco said, “What finally made you move?”

“I heard men running. It sounded like a whole squad racing past my door and no one came in to tell me what was going on. So I went out into the hall and I asked the others what had happened. They said the Jews had built something. Built something! I thought of a wall, or a secret room to hide in, and I remember thinking how right we were to be doing away with these people who were stupid enough to think that a wall would save them. I crossed the compound armed with a pistol and with four of my men at my heels like hungry dogs. Oh, I was sure of myself. Then, halfway across the compound, striding through the dust of the camp in the moonlight, with the pines moving in the night wind around us, the branches rubbing against each other, making that breathing sound, and the breeze carrying the smell to us, I heard something pound. I swear the ground shook. At that instant a scream came from Barracks 554 and I was suddenly cold with terror. I have never had such a feeling. I trembled and the men with me did, too. We all wanted to bolt.”

Bianco looked at his hands.

“I swear to you,” Speiser kept talking, “if any of us had been alone, we’d have run. But there were five of us, watching each other, so together we crossed the compound and went inside the barracks.

“I stopped at the door and yelled as loud as I could, ‘This is Commandant Speiser. Everyone at attention!’ Nothing at first, not a sound. Then a moan came from the floor next to the door, and the s­mell hit us. Slime, like a cave under a river. Reinhart got the spot going and in the light I saw a little man whose clothes were splashed with blood, and then I saw what was left of my men. Oh God . . .” Speiser put his head in his hands and sobbed aloud. Bianco felt nothing. He refilled the other man’s cup with cold tea and sugar and nudged Speiser’s shoulder with the cup. Speiser drank some, then went on.