Dr. Jacob Werner shifted uncomfortably in a straight-backed chair. His pulse raced; his stomach was queasy. He was angry at his reaction, having served the Fuhrer so bravely in the war, but now crumbling under the Stasi’s penetrating gaze. He felt as if his entire life was about to unravel, collapsing in a crumpled heap around him.
“More than one source has reported you to the authorities,” Hofer was saying. “And unfortunately, your folder has landed on my desk.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Werner argued, feeling tiny beads of perspiration on the back of his neck. “I am a loyal Socialist. And I’ve committed no crimes.”
Hofer leaned back in the chair. “It’s an interesting situation,” he said. “I certainly can’t defend you, not with so many witnesses.”
“Who are these witn
