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the courtroom.”
    Her eyes flared, but she didn’t deny it.
    “I couldn’t hear everything, of course. But neither of you said a word about the White Rose, yet I know that is the main object of your search, and it is mine as well.”
    He was amazed, and a little alarmed.
    “Look, I shouldn’t be having this conversation. You could be anyone.”
    “What do you need to know about me? I am a scholar, quite qualified. I am single, thirty-three, have lived in Berlin all my life.”
    “Where in Berlin?”
    “Prenzlauer Berg.”
    “East Berlin?”
    “Is that a problem?”
    “Not since ‘89.”
    “I only want to help. I already know more than you ever will on this subject. Or the feds, either.”
    The way she said “feds” was almost comical, like some Euro sophisticate trying to play the role of Chicago gangster.
    “I’ll be happy to pass along your name and number to the FBI.”
    She shook her head disdainfully, as if such work was beneath her.
    “Then why have you come here?”
    “To offer my assistance to you. For afterward. When you are done with your review, you will want to know more. That is the nature of materials like these. They develop their own attraction.”
    Like you, he thought.
    “That is when I will be able to help you. Because there is more material out there, waiting to be found. More than those four boxes.”
    So she knew the number of boxes. Her friend at the archives had been indiscreet, and somehow Nat wasn’t surprised that the friend was a “he.”
    “How do you know there’s more?”
    “I have been studying this puzzle long enough to learn all its missing pieces.”
    “Just because they’re missing doesn’t mean they still exist. There was a war going on. Things got burned, bombed, or looted.”
    “Not in Switzerland.”
    Good point.
    “So you say you want to help me. But I’m guessing what you really want is for me to help you.”
    “Describe it that way if you wish. I am convinced that between the two of us we can find what I’m looking for. When that happens, I will be happy to share the credit. And since you are far better known in our field, you will end up winning most of the glory. That is fine. It is not my concern. I am only interested in locating the information.”
    “I take it that your specialty is the White Rose?”
    She nodded.
    “Since I was fifteen.”
    “Goodness. It really is your life’s work.”
    “My grandmother was a friend of a member when she was a girl. She told me all the stories. She said the friend was killed when the Berlin cell collapsed, or maybe ‘imploded’ is a better word. She said there were arrests, and even executions, but that all the official records were destroyed. She was determined to prove they had happened, but she was never able to travel into the West. A month after she died, the Wall came down. I took it as a sign that I was meant to continue the job for her.”
    So, another believer in the so-called Berlin cell. But at least this one seemed to have some firsthand information, even if a bit vague.
    “Nice story. And I’d love to hear more about your grandmother’s stories. But I’m afraid I still can’t help you. Not yet, anyway.” She nodded briskly, as if she expected nothing less from such a narrow thinker. “I do have one question, though. Any idea why Gordon Wolfe would refer to you as a ‘damned nuisance’?”
    For the first time Berta seemed knocked off balance, but she recovered quickly.
    “I suppose it’s because I approached him once as well. Several times. He, too, said no, and look where it got him. If you change your mind, my mobile number is on my card.”
    She gathered her handbag and briefcase and stood to leave. Nat had a vague sense of having narrowly avoided involvement in a very complicated venture. He wasn’t sure whether to feel disappointed or relieved.
    But like any good salesman, Berta Heinkel hadn’t really finished. She had saved her best pitch for last.
    “It’s not just the