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Stahl – of course I’ve followed your career. What are you doing in Paris?’
    ‘I’m here to make a film.’
    ‘Fantastic. I’m so proud of you, we’re proud of you, all the old gang.’
    ‘I’m glad, that’s very kind of you to say.’
    ‘Can we have coffee?’ Moppi said, looking at his watch. ‘I’m supposed to meet somebody but she hasn’t shown up.’
    ‘Let’s just sit in the lobby, all right?’
    ‘Of course. I can’t believe I’ve run into you.’ They took two chairs separated by a rubber tree. ‘I’ve often wondered what became of you, over the years. Then, maybe five or six years ago, I saw your picture on a poster at a movie theatre and I thought, I know that fellow! That’s Franz Stalka, who worked for us in Barcelona. I was delighted, really, delighted. What a success you’ve become.’
    ‘What brings you to Paris, Moppi?’ Something inside Stahl curled up and quivered when he said that silly name.
    ‘Me? Oh, I work in the embassy now. Still a diplomat, old Moppi. It was the Austrian embassy but it’s German now, since the Anschluss in March.’
    ‘Were you pleased, when that happened?’
    Moppi looked serious. ‘It was unsettling, I’ll tell you that, and I didn’t like it at all, not at all. But you know, Franz – may I call you Franz?’
    ‘Please do.’
    ‘The political situation was very bad, we were on the brink of civil war in Austria and, in a way, Hitler saved us. Anyhow, beyond flags and things like that it doesn’t mean very much. Except calm and prosperity – how does one go about disliking that, I ask you?’
    ‘It would be difficult,’ Stahl said.
    Moppi sat back and gazed affectionately at Stahl, then slowly shook his head. ‘Just imagine, I know a Hollywood star.’
    ‘I’m the same person,’ Stahl said. ‘Older.’
    Moppi roared and wiped his eyes. ‘Yes, isn’t it so, I try not to think about it.’
    Now Stahl looked at his watch.
    ‘I’ll bet you’re busy, a fellow like you,’ Moppi said.
    Stahl offered a smile of regret that meant yes, he was busy.
    ‘Say, I have an idea, before you rush off. Some of the old gang from the military intelligence are in Paris now, one’s a diplomat, another has business here, why don’t we get together for a grand Parisian lunch? Talk over old times.’
    ‘From the what?’
    ‘Why our section at the legation – what did you think we were about?’
    ‘Moppi, I opened the mail .’
    ‘Yes you did – the so-called “Señor Rojas” writes to the consul, the so-called “Señor Blanco” requests a visa to visit his poor mother, “Señor Azul” has inherited a small house in Linz. That was what you called “the mail”, Franz, some of it, the important letters. Just the day-to-day details of a military intelligence section, quite humdrum in fact. No shooting, eh?’ He laughed.
    Stahl sat there, his mind working at all this when a well-dressed woman came quickly towards them. ‘Oh, Moppi, I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I could not find a taxi.’
    ‘Look who’s here, Hilda!’ Moppi said, then, ‘Moppi, manners . Frau Hilda Bruner, allow me to present Herr Fredric Stahl .’ He beamed.
    The woman blinked and stared. ‘Well, well,’ she said. ‘You’re the movie star.’
    ‘Yes, that’s me,’ he said, just rueful enough. They shook hands, her hand was warm and she held tight for a moment longer than usual.
    Moppi looked at his watch, which was thin and gold and expensive. ‘Later than I thought,’ he said. ‘We’d better go off to the restaurant or we’ll lose our reservation.’ He put his hand out and Stahl shook it. ‘You will have a lunch with us, maybe next week, won’t you? At least say you’ll think about it.’
    ‘I certainly will … think about it, Moppi. Wonderful to see you. And a pleasure to meet you, Meine Frau.’
    Moppi reached into the side pocket of his jacket, produced a business card and handed it to Stahl. Then he took Frau Bruner’s arm and the two of them