'But you spy on the scientists you deal with. You keep your eyes and ears open.'

'Yes,' he said. 'Naturally.'

'You think it's natural to spy on people?'

'Not natural,' he said with a weary sigh. 'A necessity, Ingrid. Someone has to do it and I take pride in doing it well.'

'But why do you have to keep your eye on our own scientists and engineers? Can no one be trusted these days?'

'It's not that bad, Ingrid,' he lied, knowing that in these troubled times no one could be trusted, that the enemy within was always a danger, and that the importance of the work being done at k.u.mmersdorf West called for even more vigilance. It would be more than his life was worth to tell Ingrid about Projekt Saucer and the strange American, Wilson, working there under a German alias, but when he thought about it, he did so with a mixture of awe and resentment.

He was in awe of Wilson's genius, about which he had no doubts, and resented the fact that those who worked with him Schriever, Habermohl, and Miethe were doing the work that he, Ernst Stoll, was better equipped to do.

'You wanted so much to be a rocket engineer,' Ingrid said, as if reading his mind, 'and instead you've become someone who reports on the achievements of others. That must really hurt, Ernst.'

The mockery, which rolled off her tongue with relish, was even more hurtful.

'I only hurt to give you pleasure,' he replied. 'I hope you're suitably grateful.'

'Don't be bitter, Ernst.'

'I can't help it,' he replied. You complain because I don't come home much and that I've little patience when I do come home yet you do nothing but pour your scorn upon me. What makes you so superior?'

'I don't feel superior. I just despise you for the way you've accepted what the n.a.z.is are doing.'

'If I didn't, I'd be imprisoned or even shot.'

'That may be true, Ernst. But you don't accept it just because of that. Now you actually believe in it.'

'I believe in the Fhrer. He may not always be right, but he knows the end justifies the means and I also believe that.'

'That's despicable,' Ingrid said.

Ernst simply shrugged. This argument could lead them nowhere. Each time they met it was the same, always ending in an argument, and already he yearned to be back at k.u.mmersdorf, keeping his eye on John Wilson. The American fascinated him even frightened him a little. He was sixty-six years old, yet looked fifteen years younger, and his eyes, which were still bright with intelligence, were also as cold as ice. Ernst thought him slightly inhuman, a man divorced from normal emotions, but one whose genius, allied to obsession, was producing remarkable results in the hangars of k.u.mmersdorf. In fact, the dream of a saucer-shaped aircraft was coming closer each day...

'What are you thinking?' Ingrid asked him.

'Nothing,' he replied, unable to discuss the American or Projekt Saucer.

'You're certainly not thinking of me or the children that much I can tell.'

'Please, Ingrid, stop this.'

'Why? I'm enjoying it! I can tell by the dreamy look in your eyes that we're not in your thoughts.'

'You're trying to pick a fight.'

'It keeps me awake, darling. I need something to keep me awake while you sit there in front of me, hardly looking at me, probably yearning to be with your virtuous comrades and the wh.o.r.es you all play with.'

'Ingrid!'

'I know, Ernst! I know everything! Do you think I'm a fool? Did you really think I didn't know that when you were supposed to be sleeping in the barracks, you were getting drunk with your SS friends and probably picking up the wh.o.r.es in the Motzstra.s.se? Do you think I'm dumb, Ernst?'

'That isn't true at all!' he lied, shocked and angry that she had guessed what he was up to.

'Of course it's true, Ernst!' Her green eyes were bright with rage. That's why you're away from home so often. That's why you stay out half the night and come home exhausted. Those wh.o.r.es are in your clothes. They're in the pores of your skin. You can't wash the smell of them away, so don't try anymore. I don't want your d.a.m.ned denials, Ernst. I just want the truth.'

Why didn't he tell her? Get this marriage over and done with... Because SS men didn't get divorced and have successful careers.

'Do we have to discuss this now, Ingrid? Can't it wait for a better time?'

'What better time? There is no better time. I wanted to get this off my chest, which is why I asked you to meet me here.'

'All right. So you've got it off your chest. Can we now change the subject?'

'No. That's not all I wanted to say. I also wanted to tell you that your work appals me, your promiscuity humiliates me, and that if we must live together like this, let's quietly live separate lives.'