“What do you know about what happened to Goltz?”
“The gossip is he was murdered.”
“Under what circumstances?”
“I don’t know.”
“Your husband didn’t talk to you about this?”
She shook her head.
“Did he tell you that what happened to Standartenführer Goltz was one of the reasons he was recalled to Berlin?”
“No. But I knew that’s what it had to be.”
“You’re a very bright girl, Inge. You are also skilled in the art of self-preservation. You see things as they are.”
“I try to,” she said.
“Your nipples are standing up,” von Deitzberg said. “Does that mean you are sexually aroused? Or that you’re feeling a little chill?”
Inge sucked in a breath but didn’t answer.
Von Deitzberg rose from behind the desk, walked around it, and leaned back against it. “That raises a question, Inge,” von Deitzberg said. “Given these facts. You understood that your husband was under suspicion—of what doesn’t matter—and was being called to Berlin. You surely had to consider the possibility that he had done something wrong and would not be coming back here. You also understood that you possess information that is dangerous for you to possess. And that you would be suspected of complicity in whatever your husband had done wrong—”
“I have done nothing wrong!” Inge said.
“And you had access to all the money in the special accounts in the Banco de Río Plate and the Banco Ramírez,” von Deitzberg went on. “Frankly, Inge, were I in your shoes, I would have at least considered taking the money from those accounts and disappearing.”
“I did,” Inge said.
“Thank you for your honesty,” von Deitzberg said. “But you didn’t, when there was time to do so. Why not?”
“Because I knew there was nowhere I could go that the SS couldn’t find me,” Inge said.
“That was a wise decision, Inge,” von Deitzberg said. “There is no place in the world where you could hide from us.”
“I know.”
“It almost certainly saved your life,” von Deitzberg said. “I hope you appreciate that.”
“I do.”
“No matter what the investigation of your husband’s role in the Goltz matter reveals, perhaps you could still be useful to me here.”
“I’m sure I could,” Inge said.
“In that circumstance, it would be important for me to believe that you would do whatever I told you to do without question.”
“Of course.”
“Get on your knees, Inge, please.”
She dropped to her knees.
“Now walk to me on your knees,” von Deitzberg ordered softly. “The truth is, despite the unkind things I said before, I really do find you sexually attractive.”
By the time she reached him, he had freed his erect organ from the fly of his new suit.