They chattered at us as we approached, then flew off across the yard.From there, I tried to retrace my way to the spot where Kriminalinspektor Wolff had bumped into me. It didn’t take us long to follow the route I’d taken, and it turned out I hadn’t even travelled very far. I recognised the street where the woman who’d helped me lived as soon as we came to it, but the houses were all in a row and looked identical.‘We’ll knock on a few doors,’ Lisa suggested. ‘Someone will remember you.’ No one answered at the first house but, at the second, the woman recognised me right away. She directed us to number forty-three, just along the street.Number forty-three was the woman who had brought me a damp cloth and a glass of water. She was called Frau Schmidt, and she let us into her house and offered us a glass of milk and a biscuit.She ushered us into the kitchen and we sat at the table, both of us silent while she poured milk into two short glasses.‘I was so frightened when I heard the crash,’ she said.
