She waited. Nothing happened. She opened her eyes, blinked, and looked up.

She was in a large shed, maybe a warehouse. Above her she could see the wooden roof, about forty feet up, resting on thin steel rafters. The shingles were in poor repair, because she could see shafts of daylight shining through a few gaps in the gloom.

Daylight made her think of freedom, and she twisted her wrists, rolled onto her side, and looked behind her.

Five men, the mechanic and Jack included, stood and stared at her. One of them, a big man, well dressed in a sharp suit, held the sack that had been over her head in a hairy hand that looked like a ham.

She looked at his feet. Black boots with heavy soles, toe caps, and solid heels.

Anja had him to thank for the bruises on her back.

“Get her up, please,” one of the men said. He was older, his words precise, so clear you could almost hear every letter, as if there were a gap between them.

He was in charge. His kind was always in charge.

The big man walked toward Anja. She felt like a doll as he grabbed her arms and lifted; she seemed to float to her feet. He stepped back, holding one hand out to catch her in case she fell.

She didn’t, she just glared at him and then at the man in charge.

“Bring her inside.”

The big man took Anja’s arm, but she was already following the man in charge. The big man let go and placed his hand in the small of her back. She was surprised at his gentleness and she looked at him.

He smiled sadly. “Do as you’re told, there’s a good girl,” he whispered.

The man in charge led the group through a door with a frosted glass windowpane. It opened onto a dark corridor, with more doors and wood-­paneled walls, which seemed to crowd in on Anja as they made their way along it in single file.

For every two doors that led off to the side, there was another partitioning the corridor into self-­contained cells that reminded her of carriages on a train. Anja guessed they were in a block of offices that dealt with the paperwork for the warehouse.

But the warehouse was empty, and the offices were silent, and she was alone.

All the side doors were solid wood, while the corridor doors were glass. The big man almost had to turn sideways each time they passed through a glass door, until they eventually stopped, halfway down the corridor at one of the office doors.

The man in charge opened the lock with a bunch of keys, stepped back, and gestured that Anja should enter. She paused, then felt the gentle hand in the small of her back again. She turned to look at the big man, who nodded his head.

Anja went in.

There was a table, four chairs, wooden walls, and a shabby two-­seater couch; hanging from the ceiling, a bright lightbulb that made the dust look dustier as it floated round the room.

The solitary decoration was a calendar on the wall that reckoned it was still October 1940.

“Take off the gag and unbind her.” The man in charge again.

Anja turned to look at the big man, who gently spun her away from him. She faced the wall, looking at the picture on the calendar; it was a black-­and-­white picture of a duck in a lake.

Anja felt fat fingers pulling at the gag. The knot caught her hair, but she ignored the pain as the fingers tugged and the gag came loose.

She spat it out, coughing as it dragged along her tongue and fell to the floor. Suddenly her hands were free, and she turned to face the men behind her.

She wasn’t afraid anymore. She was angry.

“What do you think you are doing? How dare you treat me like this? I would not have screamed. There was no call for a gag.”

Nobody argued with her. Jack looked at the floor and the mechanic nodded, openly agreeing with her.

Anja felt the wind drifting out of her sails. She looked at the big man, who scratched at his nose and then lowered his eyes.

“Sorry, miss,” he said before offering her a freshly ironed white handkerchief.

Anja took it, even though she didn’t want it, and looked at the man in charge. He smiled, held out his hands apologetically, then gestured that she should sit.

“Tea?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” Anja said.

The man in charge smiled, and then looked at the mechanic and Jack.

“There are makings next door, gentlemen, if you would be so kind?”

Anja watched as the mechanic nodded, then backed out of the room.

“Maybe a sandwich as well, boy?” The man in charge smiled at Jack, who took the hint and left the room, closing the door behind him.

“Please, sit.” The man in charge removed a thin leather glove and pointed to a chair at the table.

Anja hesitated and then sat. It was better than the floor of the car. The man sat opposite and studied her face for a moment before speaking again.

“I must apologize for your manner of arrival. I was unsure how you would react to my bringing you here.