He pushed himself out of the chair, crossed to the photograph, dipped his head an inch, and straightened the frame. He took a half step back and stared at the portrait, his face barely reflected off the grimy glass.

“I want you to come and work with me.” It looked like Neumann was talking to the king.

Rossett leaned back in his seat. “You want what?”

Neumann looked at him. “One job. Just try it out, see if you like it.”

“With you?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I said I wouldn’t work for the Germans again.”

“I’m a policeman, just like you. The only difference is that I solve crimes committed against Germans or by Germans on British soil.”

“You’re a Nazi.”

“So are you.”

Rossett bridled. “I’m not a Nazi.”

“You’re in the party.”

“I had to join.”

“So did I.”

“You’re a German.”

“We’ve already established that.” Neumann stepped away from the photograph, checked that it was straight, and crossed Rossett’s small office to take up a position by the window. “I can protect you,” he finally said.

“I don’t need your protection.”

Neumann turned to Rossett. “You do. You think you don’t, but you do. Those people”—Neumann pointed a finger to the ceiling, as if the top brass of the Met Police were up there looking down—“they stuck you in this office pushing paper for a reason. Do you know what it is?”

Rossett shrugged.

“It is because they hate you. You embarrass them. Sure, you got your medals for being a hero before the war. Sure, you got your name in the papers for being a good party member and working with us after the war. But facts are facts: they hate you because they can’t control you. You’re violent, you don’t play by their rules, you don’t bend in the wind, and you’re damaged. But they can’t stop you because they think they’ll upset the Germans, which they will. So they solve the problem by locking you away in here, buried under a pile of paperwork that will never get smaller and matters to nobody.”

“That’s not true.”

“Why were you alone this morning?”

“I work alone.”

“Why didn’t you take some more men with you? You must have known there would be more than one of them.”

“I told you, I like to work alone.”

“You’re a liar.”

Rossett turned in his seat and looked at Neumann, who was still standing by the window. He wanted to object to what Neumann had said, but instead he paused, then relaxed his shoulders a little under the weight of the fact.

It was true.

The reason he was alone was that he didn’t trust anyone to back him up. He didn’t trust them because they hated him.

He wasn’t corrupt.

He’d worked for the Nazis.

He wouldn’t bend the rules.

Whatever the reason, they hated him, so he couldn’t trust them.

Which meant that Hall was dead. Rossett knew the truth of it. If there had been more police in the shop waiting for Hall and Finnegan, there wouldn’t have been a struggle, and Hall wouldn’t be dead.

Just another soul scratched on his ledger.

He turned back to his desk and picked up the cigarette pack again. He played with it in his fingers, then noticed the tobacco stains on his hand. He studied his fingers and realized he needed to ease off smoking a little. He put the pack back down and wiped his hand down his face.

“I just want to be a policeman.” It sounded pathetic, and Rossett hated himself for saying it.

“Be one with me.” Neumann leaned forward and rested his hands on the corner of the desk.

“Why are you bothering with me?” Rossett looked up.

“Because you’re the best I can get.” Neumann crouched down next to the desk so he was eye level with Rossett and used his first name for the first time. “You’ll be a policeman, John. You can fight crime with me, out on the streets again. I can give you that back, and I can protect you from the people who want to get rid of you.”

“No.”

Neumann pushed back from the desk and wandered back to the rickety chair. He sat down carefully, then leaned forward and rested his elbow on the desk so that he was sitting directly across from Rossett. He took a breath and then he began.

“I got a phone call this morning. From a senior member of the command at Scotland Yard.