“I can’t release him. Please, I really can’t.”

“Where is he?”

“Please, Major.” Evans was coming apart. “Just wait until your German police liaison officer gets into town, I’m begging you. I’m sure he’ll sort things out.”

“Liaison officer?”

“I have . . . we have . . . a procedure. I must follow it, sir. It really isn’t in my hands. We have to call London, the Home Office. They set the wheels in motion for matters such as this.”

Becker shifted over by the filing cabinet, the butt of his assault rifle ringing out again. Both Dannecker and Evans looked at him, then back at each other.

“Who is this liaison officer?” Dannecker’s voice was soft now, his hangover back with a sudden solid ache.

Evans scanned the top of his desk and then picked up a piece of paper.

“Generalmajor Neumann, and a Detective Inspector Rossett.”

“An Englishman? They’re sending an Englishman to question a German?”

The paper fluttered in Evans’s hand for half a second like a bird held by one foot. He quickly placed it down on the desk, then laid the palm of his hand flat across it in a poor attempt to hide his nerves.

“According to this he is attached to the Kripo, sir.”

“Well, he can unattach and then kiss my arse.”

“I don’t think Detective Inspector Rossett is the sort of man to do that, sir.”

Dannecker tilted his head, unsure if his authority had just been challenged.

“He’ll do as he is told.”

“If it is the Rossett I think it is, I’m not sure he will, sir.”

“And who do you think it is?”

“He’s a hero, sir.”

“The world is full of fucking heroes; you’re looking at two of them now.”

“Rossett was famous, sir. He won the Victoria Cross.”

Dannecker tilted his head, so Evans elaborated. “It’s the highest award for bravery in the British army. They are making a movie about him.”

“I’ve got an Iron Cross.”

“With respect, sir.”

“It had better be.”

“It honestly is, sir . . .” Evans waited to see if Dannecker was going to up the stakes again. He didn’t, so Evans continued. “With a great deal of respect, Major, the Victoria Cross is hardly ever awarded, and Rossett’s was presented to him by the king himself.”

“Which one?”

“The old one.”

“So he fought against us?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And now he works with us?”

“Yes, sir. I think he’s also got an Iron Cross now.”

“I don’t care,” Dannecker interrupted, but sounded less certain than he’d hoped. “He’ll do as he is told, and so will you. Release my man.”

“Sir, you have to understand, I—”

Dannecker leaned in close to the desk and raised a finger, cutting off Evans midflow. He waited, just a second or two, and then pointed at Becker.

“Look at him.”

Evans did as he was told.

Dannecker waited for the Englishman to swallow a knot of nerves, then leaned in even closer across the desk and whispered.

“You are about five seconds away from him pulling out his gun and shooting you in your fat fucking face.”

The clock on the wall ticked three times, then Evans picked up the phone on his desk and rang downstairs to the jail.

 

Seven hours later, Neumann leaned forward a little too far and had to grab the corner of Evans’s desk to steady himself.

“You did what?”

“I had no choice. They came into my office, what was I supposed to do?” Evans looked up at Rossett, who was standing where Staff Sergeant Becker had been earlier, but taking up slightly less room.

“You’re supposed to be a policeman,” Rossett said quietly.

“You don’t know what they are like.” Evans pointed a finger at Rossett, happy to be arguing with an Englishman for a change. “These men are dangerous, they can do what they want in this city, and for miles around. So don’t you judge me, Inspector. I have a family. I have to go home at night.” Evans shook his head, his voice fading away. “I do what I have to do to stay alive. You don’t have to deal with them day to day the way I do.” He looked down at his desk before adding quietly, “I have a very difficult job.”

Rossett turned away to look out the window at the gathering gloom of the Liverpool evening.

Evans’s mouth opened, closed, and opened again before he made one last attempt to justify his position, this time to Neumann.

“You don’t know what it is like; you have no idea how hard it is here now. This isn’t London, this is Liverpool.”

“The law is the same,” Rossett said quietly, eyes still on the window.

“Not anymore.” The fight was gone out of Evans. He took a breath and sighed, deflating as the breath left his body. “This city has fallen apart; it barely functions as a place to live for civilized people. We get no money, the schools have closed, the libraries have closed, the museums have been looted, and the local politicians roll over and do the government’s bidding with barely a whimper. And I for one don’t blame them, because if you dare to complain . . .” He shook his head and looked at Neumann.

“Do you know how many guns are floating around here? Not just German ones, either. Do you know?” He waited a moment for an answer that didn’t come, and then continued. “There were thousands left at the docks in the evacuation, thousands.