After the surrender the port was full of men desperate to get out of the country. Most of them bought their passage on a ship with anything they had, including their weapons. It was chaos then, and it is worse now. I’ve got families and gangs fighting for control of the black market and the brothels. Even the Germans are up to their eyes in crime. My uniformed officers go out on patrol in groups of four at the very least, and even then they won’t leave the city center unless they are in a car. We don’t have control, and neither do the Home Defense Troops.”

“Who does?” Neumann glanced at Rossett, who was still staring out the window.

“Nobody, not really.”

“The Germans?” Neumann tried again.

“Just the docks, the airport, and the goods railway to London. The rest can go to hell as far as they are concerned. The running of the city is down to us and the local council, and we can barely cope.” Evans glanced at his wristwatch.

“So you don’t bother trying,” said Rossett.

“What’s the point of trying? I’ve got people who are hungry and poor, I’ve got an infrastructure that has broken down, half the time the electricity is off or the phones are down. Liverpool is like a desert island and nobody cares, least of all a small group of police constables who aren’t paid on a regular basis. This is supposed to be a British-controlled zone, and yet the British either don’t care, can’t cope, or are corrupt and only interested in London.” Evans looked at Rossett.

“Which one are you?” Rossett asked, but Evans ignored the question.

“There is money to be made. Black markets in food, petrol, clothing, women, booze, the lot. I’ve got gangs running the docks, gangs running the city center, I’ve got gangs running pubs, clubs, brothels, and drug dens. I’m supposed to police a city with thirty-three bobbies who are mostly too scared to leave their stations.”

“Thirty-three?” Neumann shook his head.

“Thirty-three. The budget is gone, and keeping hold of the people we can afford to pay is even worse. Would you want the job?” Evans looked at Neumann and then Rossett. When neither of them replied he shrugged his shoulders. “Exactly. I’m only here because I’ve got nowhere else to go.”

He sank back into his chair. His final statement hanging in the air like a bad smell.

Rossett turned back to the window, which looked out over the street where he had parked the Jaguar. It sat glistening, speckled with drops of rain in the glow of the few streetlamps that were still working. Other than their car the area was deserted, except for the odd pile of rubbish here and there. He suddenly felt tired, and he rested a shoulder against the wall. It had been a long drive through almost constant rain from London, he was hungry, and he needed some sleep.

The room was silent behind him a minute before Neumann finally spoke.

“I still need the SS officer who was arrested.”

“Can’t we blame the resistance? I can have someone picked up so we have a body to interview and then hand over to the court in London. Between us we can say there was a mistake involving the arrest.” Evans leaned back so far in his chair, Neumann briefly thought it was going to tip backward.

“You’re asking me to not do my job?” Neumann tilted his head.

“I’m just trying to find a solution that works.”

“Just because you’ve given up doesn’t mean we have to,” Rossett said to the window, his breath misting it slightly.

Evans tried again with Neumann.

“You don’t know these people.”

“I’m the law, German law. This SS major will do as he is told.” Neumann sounded almost like he was trying to convince himself. “If we don’t deal with it in the correct manner, I’ll have the American embassy complaining, and the people who sent me here will send me to Moscow next.”

Evans looked like he was about to faint. He wiped his eyes again. The docks of Liverpool were full of American ships and cargo. What little work there was in Liverpool that paid decent money relied on those ships. The thought of it being in jeopardy made his stomach churn.

“If the Americans clear off out of the city, it’ll be finished. The only reason Liverpool is still here is because of the docks, and those docks are busy with Yank ships.” Evans now had his face buried in both hands.