CHAPTER 14
Sergeant Bayer drove to the home of Claudette Maes, a three-story apartment building constructed a hundred years before. Two soldiers on a motorcycle with a sidecar followed them. The street was lined with trees, only a few parked cars—many refugees had yet to return. A woman pushed a baby carriage down the pavement, hurrying away as they approached, as an older man watched them curiously from his stoop, enjoying his pipe.
Bayer parked the car and opened the door for Ziegler and Sternberg. As the motorcycle approached, Ziegler called to one of the soldiers. “Go around back and guard the fire escape.”
As the soldier went behind the building, Sternberg led them up the walkway. “She lives on the second floor.”
“Let’s hope she’s our culprit, Herr Sternberg,” Ziegler said. “The s
