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only hope was to bluff it out.
    She needed to be sure of her facts. Hurrying back inside, she went straight to the drawer where she and Ali had found the letters. Two were addressed to Harald and Maria Widmann and bore Heidelberg postmarks. Inside both were a few dutiful lines from ‘your loving son, Hartmut’. He was allegedly ‘working hard’, presumably at his studies. The third was a bill for boat repairs, addressed only to Herr Widmann.
    She repeated the names out loud, then closed the drawer and took a quick look along the shelf of mouldering books. There were a couple by Karl May, and several books on birds and fishing.
    The voices were outside the cottage now. She stood still, not wishing to gave away her presence, hoping they would walk on by.
    No such luck. ‘Check inside,’ someone said.
    She walked to the doorway and cried out ‘good morning’, as if overjoyed to meet a posse of passing strangers. The man coming towards her, and two of those remaining on the lakeside path, were wearing light blue-grey Bahnschutzpolizei uniforms; the man in charge was wearing the long leather coat beloved of the Gestapo. He walked slowly towards her, enjoying each step.
    ‘Is something wrong?’ Effi asked innocently.
    ‘Who are you, Madame? Where are your papers?’
    Effi took them from her bag and passed them over.
    ‘Erna von Freiwald,’ he read aloud, with a slight, but unmistakable hint of disdain for the ‘von.’
    ‘Yes,’ she agreed cheerfully.
    ‘And what are you doing here, Frau von Freiwald?’
    ‘Ah,’ Effi said. ‘This is slightly embarrassing.’
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘This cottage is owned by old friends of mine. My late husband and I used to visit them before the war. Rainer was a keen fisherman, like Harald. They used to spend whole nights out on the lake, and Maria and I would talk…’
    ‘Your social life before the war does not interest me. What are you doing here now?’
    ‘I came to see if I could stay here, away from the bombing. It’s getting so bad in the city, and, well, I came up here last night. The train took forever, and I had trouble finding the cottage after all these years, and by the time I did it was too late to go back. So I stayed the night. I was just getting ready to leave when you arrived.’
    ‘And where are the owners?’
    ‘I don’t know. Harald was always a bit secretive about what he did, so I imagine he’s doing war work somewhere. I haven’t seen them since 1940.’
    ‘But you decided to take over their house?’
    ‘I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if they knew. I was only hoping to stay a few weeks. Until the miracle weapons are ready,’ she added, hoping that she wasn’t overdoing it, ‘and the enemy has to stop bombing us.’
    He looked at her, then started through her papers again. He doesn’t believe me, she thought, but he doesn’t know why, and he can’t really bring himself to believe that a middle-aged woman is what he’s looking for.
    ‘Is there trouble in the area?’ she asked. ‘Has a foreign prisoner escaped from one of the camps?’
    ‘That is not your concern,’ he said sharply, and thrust out a hand with her papers. ‘If you wish to live here, you must get the written consent of the owners, and a residence permit from the local Party office. Understood?’
    ‘Yes. Thank you.’ She resisted the temptation to curtsy.
    He took one more look at her and turned abruptly on his heels. The dog whined happily at the prospect of resuming its walk.
    As the sound of their progress faded, Effi let her body sag against the door jamb, closed her eyes, and let her breath escape in an explosive sigh of relief.

Führer, we thank you!
April 7 – 9
    R ussell woke early, which was just as well, as he’d forgotten to request a wake-up bang on his door. Assuming the American Embassy hadn’t moved in the last five years, he had time for breakfast and a quick visit before his appointment with the Soviet authorities. He washed and shaved in unexpectedly