Macke was pleased, but surprised, by the respectful tone. He recalled Werner as an arrogant whippersnapper with insufficient respect for authority.
‘I’m just back from a visit to the Eastern Front with General Dorn,’ Werner added.
Macke sensed the cops in the bar become alert to the conversation. A man who had been to the Eastern Front merited respect. Macke could not help feeling pleased that they were all impressed that he moved in such elevated circles.
Werner offered Macke the cigarette pack, and Macke took one. ‘A beer,’ Werner said to Fritz. Turning back to Macke, he said: ‘May I buy you a drink, Inspector?’
‘The same, thank you.’
Fritz filled two steins. Werner raised his glass to Macke and said: ‘I want to thank you.’
That was another surprise. ‘For what?’ said Macke.
His friends were all listening intently.
Werner said: ‘A year ago you gave me a good telling-off.’
‘You didn’t seem grateful at the time.’
‘And for that I apologize. But I thought very hard about what you said to me, and eventually I realized you were right. I had allowed personal emotion to cloud my judgement. You set me straight. I’ll never forget that.’
Macke was touched. He had disliked Werner, and had spoken harshly to him; but the young man had taken his words to heart, and changed his ways. It gave Macke a warm glow to feel that he had made such a difference in a young man’s life.
Werner went on: ‘In fact, I thought of you the other day. General Dorn was talking about catching spies, and asking if we could track them down by their radio signals. I’m afraid I couldn’t tell him much.’
‘You should have asked me,’ said Macke. ‘It’s my specialty.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Come and sit down.’
They carried their drinks to a grubby table.
‘These men are all police officers,’ Macke said. ‘But still, one should not talk publicly about such matters.’
‘Of course.’ Werner lowered his voice. ‘But I know I may confide in you. You see, some of the battlefield commanders told Dorn they believe the enemy often knows our intentions in advance.’
‘Ah!’ said Macke. ‘I feared as much.’
‘What can I tell Dorn about radio signal detection?’
‘The correct term is goniometry.’ Macke collected his thoughts. This was an opportunity to impress an influential general, albeit indirectly. He needed to be clear, and emphasize the importance of what he was doing without exaggerating its success. He imagined General Dorn saying casually to the Fuhrer: ‘There’s a very good man in the Gestapo – name of Macke – only an inspector, at the moment, but most impressive . . .’
‘We have an instrument that tells us the direction from which the signal is coming,’ he began. ‘If we take three readings from widely separated locations, we can draw three lines on the map. Where they intersect is the address of the transmitter.’
‘That’s fantastic!’
Macke raised a cautionary hand. ‘In theory,’ he said. ‘In practice, it’s more difficult. The pianist – that’s what we call the radio operator – does not usually stay in the location long enough for us to find him. A careful pianist never broadcasts from the same place twice. And our instrument is housed in a van with a conspicuous aerial on its roof, so they can see us coming.’
‘But you have had some success.’
‘Oh, yes. But perhaps you should come out in the van with us one evening. Then you could see the whole process for yourself – and make a first-hand report to General Dorn.’
‘That’s a good idea,’ said Werner.
Moscow in June was sunny and warm. At lunchtime Volodya waited for Zoya at a fountain in the Alexander Gardens behind the Kremlin. Hundreds of people strolled by, many in pairs, enjoying the weather. Life was hard, and the water in the fountain had been turned off to save power, but the sky was blue, the trees were in leaf and the German army was a hundred miles away.
Volodya was full of pride every time he thought back to the Battle of Moscow. The dreaded German army, master of blitzkrieg attack, had been at the gates of the city – and had been thrown back. Russian soldiers had fought like lions to save their capital.
Unfortunately the Russian counter-attack had petered out in March. It had won back much territory, and made Muscovites feel safer; but the Germans had licked their wounds and were now preparing to try again.
And Stalin was still in charge.
Volodya spotted Zoya walking through the crowd towards him. She was wearing a red-and-white check dress.
