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“None that I know of.”

Using his flashlight, Bauer followed his illuminated path into the kitchen. A few cabinets and a sink, an oven—

“There,” said Bauer, shining his light on the gas oven. He opened the door and threw the bag in. He looked at the men. “Write whatever article you need to write, Fritz. And tonight, publish all of this. Before anyone has a chance to filter it.”

“Will do.” Gerlich rubbed his hands together, in anticipation if not warmth.

“I’ll report to headquarters and then come to you. I’ll be there in case there’s any trouble.”

“Me, too,” said Helldorff.

Gerlich breathed a heavy sigh. “Godspeed until then, gentlemen. Godspeed.”

45

AN HOUR AFTER THE men said their good-byes and left the vacant flat, a man wrapped in a heavy wool scarf, his tweed cap pulled low, entered the building on Ludwigstraße and climbed the stairs to the second floor. It only took him five minutes to pick the lock and enter.

He kept the beam of the flashlight low out of caution but satisfied himself that he was alone. He went to the small kitchen area, opened the door of the gas oven, and removed the bag containing the contents of Hitler’s safe.

He undid the top of the bag and looked at the envelopes inside. He did not remove any from the bag. But he did place an additional one inside.

Then he closed the bag, returned it to the oven, and left the same way he came.

46

Bauer residence

Oberföhring

BAUER DIDN’T SLEEP. HE spent the remaining hours of the night lying next to Amalie, listening to her gentle breathing, watching the contented expression on her face as she remained blissfully asleep. He checked on his sleeping children, Ridley and Maxine, still so innocent, so exuberant in their discovery of the world.

Bauer had risked his life for his country in war, had strapped on his G98 bolt-action rifle on the front lines while avoiding machine-gun artillery and aerial bombing, and he considered his current mission no less patriotic. But he had been a young, single man back then. Now he had a family. What it would mean for his children, for Amalie? He couldn’t ignore that they would be put at risk, too, by his actions.

As the sun crept over the horizon, Bauer rose and dressed. He kissed his wife good-bye, her familiar words—“Come home to us, Tom”—taking on a deeper poignancy that morning.

He treated this day like any other. Dressed the same, took the same morning tram, huddled among teachers and shopkeepers, dishwashers and janitors, cooks and street cleaners. When he arrived at Directorate 22 headquarters, he ignored the feeling of dread like acid in the pit of his stomach, sitting down to start work on his cases—an assault near Herzogpark, a residential burglary in Priel.

Helldorff was already there, though they only curtly acknowledged each other, bringing nothing of their off-duty mission to the office. Helldorff’s eyes were heavy after their long night, but his wild, strawlike blond hair gave away his youth. He’s not yet nineteen, Bauer thought, and I’ve drawn him into something dangerous.

“Bauer.”

He looked up. The chief’s assistant, Ilse, nodded at him. “The chief would like a word.”

“Sure.” Bauer nodded, as if nothing at all were unusual, casting a quick glance at Helldorff, who caught his eye.

He followed Ilse upstairs. The door to the chief’s office was closed. She knocked and opened it.

Bauer entered, first setting his eyes on the Weimar flag in the corner before noting the number of officers standing in the room. Chief Heinrich Müller sat behind the desk, flanked by two deputies and two other men, dressed in uniforms that identified them as officials from the Ministry of Justice.

“Come in, Bauer.” Müller wiggled his fingers.

Bauer took three steps forward. He considered a sarcastic quip, but the lump in his throat held him back. His heartbeat ratcheting up, he clasped his hands behind his back and stood at attention.

“Bauer, you have one chance to tell me what you did last night and why.” Müller leaned back in his chair. “One chance to avoid arrest and dismissal from the department. One chance to salvage your life.”

Bauer cast his eyes to the carpet. He didn’t know what, how, or how much the chief knew.

“My memory fails me, sir,” he said.