Robert nodded as if he had expected something like this. ‘So you have gone from a job as a filing clerk to head of the Berlin intelligence section. Congratulations on your rapid promotion.’ He turned to Ethel. ‘When Hitler became Chancellor at the end of January, his henchman Hermann Göring took the role of Interior Minister of Prussia – in charge of the largest police force in the world. Since then, Göring has been firing policemen wholesale and replacing them with Nazis.’ He turned back to Macke and said sarcastically: ‘However, in the case of our surprise guest I’m sure the promotion was purely on merit.’

Macke flushed, but kept his temper. ‘As I said, I wish to speak to the proprietor about something personal.’

‘Please come and see me in the morning. Would ten o’clock suit you?’

Macke ignored this suggestion. ‘My brother is in the restaurant business,’ he ploughed on.

‘Ah! Perhaps I know him. Macke is the name? What kind of establishment does he run?’

‘A small place for working men in Friedrichshain.’

‘Ah. Then it isn’t likely that I have met him.’

Lloyd was not sure that it was wise for Robert to be so waspish. Macke was rude, and did not deserve kindness, but he could probably make serious trouble.

Macke went on: ‘My brother would like to buy this restaurant.’

‘Your brother wants to move up in the world, as you have.’

‘We are prepared to offer you twenty thousand marks, payable over two years.’

Jörg burst out laughing.

Robert said: ‘Permit me to explain something to you, Commissar. I am an Austrian count. Twenty years ago, I had a castle and a large country estate in Hungary where my mother and sister lived. In the war I lost my family, my castle, my lands, and even my country, which was . . . miniaturized.’ His tone of amused sarcasm had gone, and his voice became gruff with emotion. ‘I came to Berlin with nothing but the address of Walter von Ulrich, my distant cousin. Nevertheless, I managed to open this restaurant.’ He swallowed. ‘It is all I have.’ He paused, and drank some coffee. The others around the table were silent. He regained his poise, and something of his superior tone of voice. ‘Even if you offered a generous price – which you have not – I would still refuse, because I would be selling my whole life. I have no wish to be rude to you, even though you have behaved unpleasantly. But my restaurant is not for sale at any price.’ He stood up and held out his hand to shake. ‘Goodnight, Commissar Macke.’

Macke automatically shook hands, then looked as if he regretted it. He stood up, clearly angry. His fat face was a purplish colour. ‘We will talk again,’ he said, and he walked out.

‘What an oaf,’ said Jörg.

Walter said to Ethel: ‘You see what we have to put up with? Just because he wears that uniform, he can do anything he likes!’