He leafed through the files one more time—the map of the camp, Mendl—even though everything was already firmly etched in his brain. At noon, Schubert came around his bunkhouse, the cat’s food options clearly diminished elsewhere. Blum was putting a few crumbs on the sill when he heard a knock on the door. It was Strauss. “Sorry to bother you, Nathan,” he said. He had an expression Blum couldn’t quite read. Sober. Unsettled. He was with Kendry, the quiet Brit. Blum didn’t trust him. “Mind if we sit?’ “Please…” Blum said, clearing his clothes and files off the other bed. Kendry chose to lean against the window and took out his pipe. “So…” Strauss gave him a lukewarm smile. “Tomorrow night it is…” He looked at the files and pictures on the other bed. “You’re all set?” “I think so, sir.” “Got everything down?” “Like I was from there.” Blum gave him a smile. “Yes.” Strauss smiled too. “Of course, there’s a few more details we have to get settled.
