'I'm sorry, Ernst, but I can't. If I said I would, I'd be lying.'

'Then, my dear, I'l have to make it easy for you with my Reichsfhrer's consent.' Her gaze turned from confusion to dread as he savoured his own words. 'As soon as I return to barracks, I'll arrange the transfer of your beloved Lieutenant Tillmann to a penal regiment on the Eastern Front. Do you know what that is, dear? A penal regiment is composed of soldiers who've been found guilty of some offence and given the choice between military prison or serving in a regiment used solely for the most dangerous missions. The chances of survival for the regiment's members are therefore slim, though they do have a chance. So Lieutenant Tillmann, your traitorous lover, will be gone within the week and is unlikely to ever return. Don't worry about trying to keep yourself away from him: you won't have a choice.'

Ingrid threw herself at him, beating at him with her fists. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them behind her back and forced her into the wall. She didn't look so pretty now, for her face was streaked with tears, and he held her until she stopped struggling and sagged in his arms. When he released her, she slid to the floor, took a deep breath, then calmed down.

'I'm leaving home,' she said, 'and I'm taking the children with me. I'm going back to live with my parents in Wannsee, and if you want to see the children, you can visit them there, but that's all you can do. We'll be man and wife only in name. That should keep your superiors happy. Then as soon as this war ends, I'll apply for a divorce. Believe me, I'll do it.'

'That's fine by me, Ingrid.'

He went in to see his children, embraced them pa.s.sionately and kissed them, then quickly left the bedroom and went to the front door. He pa.s.sed Ingrid who remained kneeling on the floor with her head bowed, and left without looking back, not even slamming the door.

It was a dignified exit.

'My handsome Kapit n!' Brigette exclaimed with throaty sensuality, tugging him into her embrace and pushing the door closed behind him, She was wearing only her dressing gown, through which he felt her animal heat, and he was instantly aroused by her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s and sly, pressing loins. Yet even as he pressed his lips to her neck, she pushed him gently away from her. 'Greedy little boy,' she said with a mocking smile. 'Did you bring me a present?'

'Yes,' he said, his ardour dimmed a little as he handed the wrapped gift to her. 'A diamond necklace a very expensive necklace from that shop on Tauentzienstra.s.se.'

'Ah!' Brigette exclaimed with a bright, greedy smile as her long, painted fingernails tore the paper open. 'Then it must be expensive!' She threw the paper on the white carpet, held the diamond necklace on high, let it dangle from her fingers, turned it around, and studied it in the wintery light slanting in through the window. 'Wunderbar!' she said softly.

'Put it on,' Ernst said.

'You sound rather hoa.r.s.e, my dear Ernst.'

'Put it on!' he repeated, with emphasis.

She stared thoughtfully at him, eventually gave a knowing smile,

then placed the necklace between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and clipped it behind her neck. 'What now, my love?'

'Take the dressing gown off.'

Brigette did as she was told, but slowly, seductively, like the professional stripper she was, and then stood before him in a lazily sensual pose, curvaceous and marble-pale, naked except for the necklace glittering on her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

'Was I worth it?' she whispered.

'Yes,' he said.

'Then come and take what you paid for.'

He had her right there on the floor, on a carpet as soft as eiderdown, not worrying about love or its loss, surrendering himself to pure l.u.s.t. Brigette wrapped her legs around him, writhed under him, rolled above him, trailed her wet tongue down the length of his heaving body and then over his lips and eyes. He wanted that and nothing else, a loveless coupling, her expertise, and his pleasure was increased by the knowledge that she cost only money. She did not demand his loyalty or arouse his emotions just to poison them; she gave him what he wanted for a price that he could easily afford. He wanted that now his only commitment was to the Fatherland and so he took it and revelled in his freedom and o.r.g.a.s.med with pleasure.

Later, when he had bathed and dressed, Brigette made him a meal that he washed down with wine and followed with cognac, after which, though it was still only afternoon, he felt drunk and self-pitying.

'Ingrid's leaving me,' he confessed, 'and she's taking the children with her. She had a lover and now she's leaving me! Such is feminine reasoning.'

Brigette licked at her gla.s.s of cognac. 'You have a lover,' she teased. 'You have a mistress: me.'

'That's different. I'm a man. And it wasn't until Ingrid and I were growing apart that I took up with you.'

Brigette chuckled. 'Such is male reasoning, my pet! And as I recall it, Ingrid only took on a lover when she found out about you and me.'

'She's a wh.o.r.e,' Ernst said.

'No, darling, I'm a wh.o.r.e. Ingrid is only a wounded woman who's now taking revenge.'

'I don't care,' Ernst said. 'I'm not interested in her motives. I only know that our marriage has been poisonous on both sides and I don't want any more emotional involvements as long as I live. I have my work and it costs me no emotion while giving me great satisfaction. That's all I want now.'

Brigette smiled and sipped some cognac. 'There speaks a true man,' she said. 'In the end, all men turn to their work for the satisfaction they lack at home. Soon you won't even need me: you'll make love to the SS.'

'You're being sarcastic,' Ernst said, 'but there's a certain truth in what you say. My allegiance to the SS, to the Fatherland, is now stronger than love or blood. The Reich towers above personal concerns and is founded on discipline. That's what I want now discipline not wasteful emotions. Yes, thank G.o.d for a man's work.'

He left shortly after, having sobered up sufficiently to drive, and went directly to the research centre at k.u.mmersdorf, to have words with Wilson.

It was growing dark when he arrived there, the buildings swept by restless spotlights. He parked and hurried into the main hangar, past the stone-faced SS guards. Wilson was in his gla.s.s-walled office, studying drawings of a flying saucer prototype, but he raised his head when Ernst entered, to look at him with that unblinking, disconcerting gaze.

He had been in the hospital recently for some mysterious operations, and certainly they seemed to have been successful, for now, though he was gray-haired and lined, he looked otherwise remarkably youthful. And his eyes, even though he was smiling faintly, had the brightness of ice.

'Captain Stoll!' he exclaimed softly in his oddly glacial, polite manner. 'This is a surprise! I was just about to finish up and go home. What brings you here so late?'

'Some news,' Ernst replied.

'Regarding the failed test flight?'