Once downstairs, I opened Sarah's mailbox. The lobby was deserted. I put the package into the mailbox. The mailman would recognize it as a package he had delivered, and leave it alone. I hoped no one would think to look in Sarah's mailbox for my valuables.

Free of the letters, we headed over to the Wannsee to meet Boris. I would accept the offer he'd extended to me in his letter. That too, was unexpected. But if I only had a few days left to live, I might as well spend one of them sailing on the lake with a handsome man, whatever his motives.

I stopped by the Berolina office and found the schedule for the boat that had spotted Ernst's body in the river. There were no more tours scheduled for that stretch of water today. That was it then. Today I would relax with Boris on his yacht. Tomorrow I would ride the Berolina boat and see where Ernst had been found. Perhaps something there would lead me to his killer before I met Rohm.

19.

I treated Anton and myself to a hot wurst and roll from a stand, as I did not want him to be too hungry when we met Boris. I wanted Boris to know that I fed Anton well, that I was not responsible for his emaciated condition. Anton happily dipped his wurst into a golden pile of mustard. As Mother taught me, I ate the wurst first and the roll last, so that I could wipe my greasy fingertips on the bread. The wurst was savory and firm. It felt good to be eating all I wanted again.

Well fed and happy, we walked to the Potsdam Yacht Club, perched on the edge of the lake like a honeymoon cottage. Sparkling glass and well-polished wood shone when we opened the door.

"Good day." I crossed to the small counter, where a girl not much older than Trudi filed her nails.

"And your name is?" The girl behind the counter was unimpressed by my shabby blue dress and Anton's mustard-smudged shirt.

"Hannah Vogel," I said. "Here to meet Boris Krause."

"I'll see if he is here for you." She looked convinced that he would not be. She exuded health, energy, and money. Her well-muscled tan calves stalked around the corner.

"She didn't like us," Anton said. "Because we're poor."

I bent down and took his hand. "That may be. But what she thinks of us does not matter one drop."

"Does it make you angry?"

"Perhaps yesterday," I said. "But not today. Today I want us to play."

"Hannah," called Boris, walking toward us with his hand outstretched and a charming smile. His face was open and guileless. "And who is this fellow?"

"This is Anton," I said, deciding not to try to describe Anton's relationship to me.

"How do you do?" Boris shook Anton's hand as if he were a grown-up man. Anton beamed. Boris wore a short-sleeved shirt and linen trousers. He looked, if possible, even better than he had in the courtroom. "Trudi's stowing our lunch on the boat. Come along."

Anton and I followed in his wake as he led us to a beautiful wooden sailboat. I knew nothing about boats, but this one looked expensive. The light reflected off brightly polished brass and mahogany. I guessed the boat was over ten meters long.

Trudi emerged from a hatch in the deck. "Fraulein Vogel," she called. "I'm so glad you came."

"As am I, Trudi," I said. "This is Anton. Anton, Trudi."

Anton dropped to one knee on the dock. "The brave is pleased to meet you."

She curtsied with a laugh. "It is I who am honored." She turned to me. "And you brought someone with such excellent manners."

Boris stepped easily onto the boat and held out his hand to help me aboard. His palm felt warm but surprisingly rough, perhaps from sailing. He held my fingers a moment longer than necessary; it was not my imagination. I looked up into those gold-flecked eyes and slowly pulled my hand away.

"Here we go, Anton." Boris turned and held out a hand to Anton, but he leaped from the dock to the boat like a cat.

"I brought something for you, Trudi." I handed her the box. "It's scraps, but I thought they might be interesting to experiment with."

She opened the box and squealed with delight. A purple feather floated toward the deck. Anton caught it and handed it to her.

"What is it?" Boris asked.

"Hatmaking supplies," she said, her eyes shining. "And a form and some drawings of hats."

"My friend the hatmaker thought you might make better use of them than she."

"Thank you," Trudi said. "I will."

She closed the box and carried it toward the back of the boat. Anton followed like a puppy.

"Let's find you something to eat." Trudi and Anton climbed through the hatch and disappeared.

"He just ate," I called down to them.

"He's a growing boy." Boris's full lips curved into a smile. "He'll probably eat his second lunch and yours if you're not careful."

"He needs it more than I do. He's welcome to it." I looked back at the dock, flustered.

"Thank you for the thoughtful gift for Trudi. It will keep her and her friends occupied during the evenings." Boris started the engine.

"I am glad it can be of use."

Boris untied the lines mooring us to the dock. "My behavior at the courthouse was inexcusable," he said. "I apologize."

"I imagine you must have been very upset." Muscles in his forearm tensed and relaxed as he untied lines and coiled them on the deck. Powerful muscles for a banker.

"Which is no excuse for lashing out at you." He straightened and looked into my eyes. He put his warm hand on my bare arm and leaned in close.

"No apologies are necessary." I tried not to stutter, too conscious of how near his body was to mine.

He motored out of the slip and into open water. I caught my breath and watched him out of the corner of my eye. His movements were swift and competent, and he handled the boat with a sure gentleness.

"But they are necessary," he said at last, turning to me.

"Then they are accepted."At that moment I would have forgiven him anything, if he kept standing next to me.

He smiled. "I am grateful."

Anton bumped against my back. "Trudi has a cache of supplies," he said. "We can journey for one whole moon."

"A whole moon?" Boris said. "I will need someone to help steer, while I sleep tonight."

I sat in the bow and felt the sun warm me through and through as Boris explained the mechanics of sailing to Anton. Anton held the tiller while Boris and Trudi raised the sails. It was wonderful to watch how easily he moved, swaying with the boat. When Boris took the tiller again, Trudi showed Anton some complicated thing with the ropes and sails. Anton concentrated with his whole body.

I turned to face the beach. The water was a lovely light blue, and air ruffled through my hair. I could not remember when I'd felt so relaxed. I reminded myself that I was in the eye of the hurricane, but I did not care.

On the golden sand, bathers arranged and rearranged themselves on towels, their bathing costumes and caps black and white in the sun. Cheerful orange-and-white-striped umbrellas shaded mothers with fat, pale infants. A balloon vendor strolled down the beach, on the lookout for indulgent parents, with his colorful orbs bobbing above his head. When an adventurous youngster dashed into the water clutching a shovel and pail in his chubby fists, his diaper drooping, his mother dashed after him, her unfashionably long hair cascading down her back.

I turned to watch the tree-covered islands sliding by. A flock of starlings wheeled and dipped, punctuation marks dancing in the sky.

"Nothing beats the feeling of being on the water." Boris sat next to me.

I tensed. "Who is driving the boat?" I turned around to see Anton at the tiller, Trudi standing next to him.

"Sailing the boat," Boris corrected me. "The children can do it. Trudi could take this boat out on her own if I'd let her."

I was very conscious of his open shirt and the dark hair curling on his chest. I peeked for only a second then resolutely turned my attention to the sun-spangled water in front of us. Other sailboats dotted the lake, their bright sails looking like huge prehistoric birds.

"Still on guard with me?" Boris asked. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his relaxed smile. It looked as if it went right into a peaceful, happy soul.

"Not at all," I lied. He thought I was afraid that he would yell at me again, as he had in front of the courthouse. I was more afraid that I would lean forward and kiss those lips, in front of the children and a few hundred swimmers. I looked away, hoping that Boris would not notice the flush spreading up my neck. What had gotten into me?

"Glad to hear it." Boris pulled his straw hat low over his eyes and gazed at the water.

We sailed along in silence. I heard only the sound of the water rushing under the hull and the occasional snap of the sail.

Then we talked about life and politics. Boris, like me, was a social demo crat, and I teased him for being the only socialist banker in Germany.

"Banking is my job," he said. "It is not who I am."

"You are a complicated man."

"As are you," he said with a smile. "Peter Weill."

I knew that I should tell him I'd been fired, but I did not want to speak of anything sad today, so I just smiled back. Boris had a wonderful, lazy smile.

We dropped the sails in the middle of the lake and swam. Boris and Trudi swam like otters, sleek and swift. I was a cautious swimmer, having learned when I was tossed off the dock by Father as a child. Anton had never been in the water, but Trudi tied him into a life jacket and he bobbed around like a cork, splashing everyone wildly when Boris dove underwater to tickle his toes.

It was a wonderful day. Anton was sleepy and sunburned a rosy pink when we returned to the dock. He no longer resembled the pale, thin urchin who had arrived at my apartment three nights ago.

When I stepped off the boat, the dock bobbed up and down and I stumbled. Boris caught my elbow.

"I am always falling around you," I said.

"And I keep catching you," he answered, not letting go of my elbow. I blushed scarlet and held out my hand for the large picnic basket that Trudi lugged off the boat.

"I'll take that." Boris released my elbow and relieved her of the basket. "Can we give you a ride home?"

I opened my mouth to decline, but Anton shouted, "Yes. Oh yes. Trudi says your automobile is as fast as the wind."

"There you have it then. How about you two run along ahead?" Boris asked.

Trudi gave him a searching look, then took Anton's hand and headed down the path.

I started after them, but Boris caught my arm. "Let's allow them to get a bit ahead, shall we?"

I turned to him, surprised. And he leaned down and kissed me. He tasted like salt, and wind. I opened up under his mouth. Time seemed to expand, and I could have stood there forever. When Boris pulled away, we were both shaking.

When I had my breathing back under control, I reached up and traced his lips with one finger. "What is it about us?" I asked him.

"I don't know," he said in a husky voice. "But I would very much like to find out."

I leaned closer to him, but he stepped away. "Not here," he said. "I don't think I could stop again."

I smiled. "It would be embarrassing to be arrested for public indecency."

"And marched past the children."

We turned as one and headed back down the path toward the car. I was happier than I'd been in a long time.

"I imagine you do a great deal of research for your stories." Boris's voice sounded strained.

I nodded. "More for some than others, but I try to be thorough."

"How do you do your research?" Boris shifted the picnic basket to his other hand and walked closer to me.

"Ask questions, look things up." I quickened my pace, my shoes crunching in gravel on the path. I needed to behave myself until I got to the automobile. "It's boring mostly."

"I don't imagine it's that boring. I work in a bank. That is boring. Every day the same."

"My days were not exactly the same," I said, looking at his wind-blown, dark hair. "But there was a sameness about them."

"Was?"

"I . . ." I looked at the ground, surprised by my strong feeling of loss. "I do not work for the paper anymore."

"By choice?" He stepped closer, sounding concerned.

I stepped away. "No. I was let go. This Peter Weill is retired now."

"I am sorry to hear that," he said. "After I got over being angry, I liked your piece on that man. And the piece on the dead prostitute, did you write that?"

"My last piece." I cleared my throat.

"I take it the rich man with the card that you mentioned in your article retaliated?"

"How could you know that?" I stopped walking.

"I only guess, Hannah," he said. "I am a powerful man. I know how powerful men think."