Only a few tables were occupied, and only one of them by Wehrmacht officers. Celine had served them and they seemed content, so he returned to his reading. Laura came to the counter with a tray of dirty dishes.“What lies are they printing today?” she muttered, looking down at the paper.He snorted agreement. “Aside from the usual reports of Germany’s struggle against Bolshevism, there’s been another arson. In the Boulevard du Midi at the Judenrat office. Someone was killed too. An assassination.”“Really? You think partisans did it?”“I’m sure they did. The authorities are offering a reward for information.”“Anything about the RAF? The BBC announced last night that they’d bombed Essen.”“Well, they’re not going to admit that, are they? The only articles I see here are about the German courage in the East. And the usual news about shortages.”The sound of the café door opening drew their attention.Baron von Falkenhausen stood for a moment, as if waiting for acknowledgement.
