Russell listened, nodded, smiled. 'I get the picture,' he said.
Hauptsturmfuhrer Hirth looked at him, and decided that he did. He passed across a piece of paper with a number on it. 'When you have established contact with one of the Soviet intelligence services, ring this number.'
Russell walked slowly back to the car and drove it round to the Gestapo building in Prinz Albrecht-Strasse. The kerb outside was empty, as if no one dared to park there. Why not? he thought. He was one of Heydrich's boys now.
He walked through the main doors expecting a long wait, but Effi was already sitting in the reception area. He'd half-expected to find her still wearing the oversize grey pyjamas, but she was wearing her own clothes, the deep blue dress he'd bought her a couple of Christmases ago and a pair of matching heels. Her hair was tied back with what looked like a shoelace.
She flew into his arms, and they stood there, clinging to each other. 'Oh John,' she said, and he squeezed her still tighter, revelling in the familiar softness and warmth, ignoring the pain in his abdomen.
'Let's get out of here,' she whispered.
'Gladly.'
They hurried across the pavement to the car, as if they were escaping. Was Ritschel watching from the window, proud of his little ploy? 'Where to?' he asked Effi . 'Home?'
'Home. Yes. God, I need a bath. I must smell awful.'
'You don't.'
He started the engine, and turned to her. 'How were the last two days?' he asked.
'Better,' she said. 'Let's go.'
He moved the car off in the direction of Potsdamer Platz.
'Better once I'd seen you,' she explained. 'I knew you'd sort it out.'
'Did they question you?'
'Yesterday, though there weren't many questions. I was simply given my last chance to pledge undying allegiance to the Fuhrer and all his moronic minions.'
'And you did.'
'Of course. I won't be making that mistake again.'
Russell glanced across at the oh-so-familiar profile. Something had changed, he thought. For ever? Or just for the time it took for the shock to fade? It crossed his mind that he didn't want Effi to change, but this thought was soon supplanted by another - that the needs of survival might well demand changes from both of them.
She returned his glance. 'You must tell me all about America.'
'It seems a long time ago.'
She smiled. 'I can imagine. But I don't want to talk about the last few days. Not yet.'
'Okay. I've got a new job.' He told her about his meeting with the Tribune editor in New York, what his new brief was.
'Is that the paper Tyler McKinley worked for?'
'No, but Tyler's editor recommended me. I phoned him to find out what sort of response they'd had to Tyler's story. The answer was not much. A few angry voices, but Washington didn't want to know. The paper finally got an assurance that our Ambassador here would raise the subject with Ribbentrop, and I'm sure he did, but I don't suppose the bastard was listening.'
Neither was Effi . 'I was only in that place for five days, but I had trouble remembering what a tree looked like,' she said, gazing out at the sunlit Tiergarten. 'Can we take a walk?'
Russell pulled over, and they took the first path into the park. Most of the benches were occupied by Berliners enjoying a picnic lunch in the hot sun-shine, and there was a lengthy queue at the first ice cream stall they came to. They joined it anyway.
'Has it been as hot as this for long?' she asked.
'Since I got back.'
Effi shook her head in disbelief. 'I was cold in that place. Really cold.'
Russell put an arm round her shoulder, and received a wan smile in return.
'We're giving you your life back - that's what he said. You know, I can't even remember the swine's name.'
'Ritschel?'
'That's right. He told me no one knew I'd been arrested - apart from you and Zarah, that is - that I should just carry on as if nothing had happened. The premiere on Friday, the new film on Monday. Oh, I haven't told you about that.'
'More Than Brothers? I saw the script at the fl at.'
'I only agreed to do it a few hours before I was arrested.'
Having reached the front of the queue, they bought their ice creams and walked across to the lake. A pair of ducks were fighting over a floating cone a few feet from shore. The previous owner - a very young child - was watching the fight with interest while his mother berated him.
'Is it a good part?' Russell asked.
'It's a big one.'
'Tell me about it.' Talking about her films was something they'd always enjoyed.
She seemed about to refuse, then shrugged her acquiescence. 'It starts at the end of the war,' she began. 'My sister's husband gets killed in the fighting, and she's completely distraught. When she finds out that she's pregnant she gets even more hysterical, and I only just manage to dissuade her from having an abortion. So she has the baby, but he - it's a boy, of course - reminds her so much of her dead husband that she runs away. I'm left with the baby, which isn't very convenient.' She paused to take a lick of ice cream. 'I already have a baby of my own, and I'm looking after my father, who's been crippled in the war. I'm a nurse at the local hospital - it's set in Wedding by the way - working split shifts. Since my husband can't find a job, he's supposed to look after things at home, but he's not happy about looking after one baby, let alone two. He gets drunk and tells me I have to choose between him and my sister's baby. I throw him out and struggle on. Only trouble is, the boys fight all the time.' She took another lick and smiled. 'At this point the writer wants one of those through-the-years-type collages of them fighting with each other - you know what I mean? - the problem is, they always end up using children of different ages who look nothing like each other.'
In the distance a military band started up, and promptly fell silent again. They waited in vain for a resumption.
'Where was I?' Effi asked. 'Oh yes. We've reached 1932. The boys are strapping lads who still can't stand each other. Enter the hero. Several young SA men are brought into the hospital after a street-fight with the Reds. One of them's in really bad shape, and he eventually dies, but not until I've been through my whole Angel of Mercy routine. The squad leader who keeps visiting them can't help but notice how wonderful I am, and of course I can't help but notice how stern and fatherly he is. I ask him over for dinner. He gets on like a house on fire with my father and, much more importantly, takes the two boys to task for fighting all the time. After a couple of visits he has them eating out of his hand. Cue wedding bells and the boys go off to join the Hitler Youth together. It ends with another collage - the two of them hiking in the mountains together, helping an old lady across the road, collecting for Winter Relief, etc etc. My husband and I stand at our front door, new children liberally scattered around our feet, and watch the two of them go smiling off to war. The End.'
'Incredible.'
'Ridiculous, but it's a living.'
'Where it's being shot.'
'Out at the Schillerpark Studio. I don't think they'll do any location shooting.'
'How long?'
'Three weeks, I think. You don't have to work today?'
'No.'
'And you're not going anywhere in the next few days?' she asked, betraying only the slightest hint of anxiety.
'Nowhere.' Prague could wait.
'You know, I feel hungry. After I've rung Zarah and had a bath let's go and have a nice lunch.'
'What are you going to tell her?' Russell asked.
'What do you mean?'
Russell told her what he'd said to Zarah on Monday. 'It's better for every-one if she believes it was all a mistake,' he added.