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planned by a handful of cynical expatriate mercenaries? I authorize you to form your own investigative team; you will bear full responsibility for the results. The liaison officer of the local Reich Security Office, Chief Inspector Buback, will be my representative. He will be providing me with detailed information about the state of the investigation and can secure the cooperation of our offices for you, should you need it. That is all. Now, which of you will answer personally for the team’s activity?”
    Police Commissioner Rajner bowed as respectfully as his paunch would allow, and his gaze—till now fixed upon the colonel—slid over to his scrawny neighbor.
    “Superintendent Beran…”
    Buback had expected it. It would be interesting to work with a man whose name had been a household word for years. He recalled the way the papers had praised Beran during one particular case. A jealous man had killed his wife and her lover, and Beran had stepped forward from the barricade of officers around the house, shouting, If you don’t shoot me, I promise you I’ll take you for a beer once you get out of prison! And he had undoubtedly done so. Even years later, Beran seemed like a man who kept his word and got things done no matter what. It dismayed Buback that he would have to spy on such an opponent and neutralize him.
    Beran nodded agreeably and replied, in accented but passable German, as casually as if he were talking about the weather.
    “Given the current personnel situation, I’ll still be supervising all of Prague’s criminal police operations. As time goes on, we’ll be more and more hard pressed by the influx of refugees from the East. Therefore, my deputized representative, detailed exclusively to this case, will be Assistant Detective Morava.”
    Buback was stunned when Meckerle just nodded; how can he let them foist that kid on us? Careful: the colonel’s a dangerous fox. Silly Honza straightened up woodenly, blushing all over. Buback remembered the schoolboy’s notebook. You, at any rate, will be mine, kiddo! He tried to answer Beran in the same casual vein.
    “That’s your business. My job is to see that you get your job done as quickly as possible.”
    “That’s what we ordinarily do,” the superintendent replied politely and looked him straight in the eye.
    Figures we’d be enemies, Buback thought ruefully; we’d make a great team. At the same time he noticed that Meckerle’s attention was slowly but surely beginning to drift. To avoid a general dismissal that would have included him as well, he snapped to attention. At least it would remind the Czechs that this wasn’t a social call.
    “Standartenfuhrer, permit me to escort the gentlemen to my office to receive their status report.”
    Meckerle now stiffened up as well and gave them a parting shot for good measure.
    “I want that man, here and soon,” he bellowed, pointing imperiously at the floor between them. “I want to be the first to ask him personally why he did it. I might even save us the expense of an execution.”
    Then, finally, he stuck out his arm in the German salute.
    As usual, Morava shook off his jitters quickly; the knowledge that he was doing his best calmed him. Feeling Beran’s confidence buoyed him as well.
    The tumultuous events of the evening before had further sharpened his wits. He had woken, as he’d planned, at five o’clock, even after his first night of love. For a while he had gazed in adoring disbelief at the girl beside him. Once he had made sure that he wasn’t dreaming, he went downstairs quietly in the dark, found the chicory in the unfamiliar kitchen, and made himself a quite drinkable coffee. As he sipped it, he wrote down neatly what had already happened, what was happening now, and what must happen in the near future.
    He could cross off the site investigation and the autopsy. He had dictated a detailed report (including, among other things, the fact that the murderer had worn gloves and left no