Sergeant Bayer questioned residents in the village, stopping those that came through the town square. He glanced back at the café, Ziegler playing with a passing dog, then sipping his espresso. In the years since he had been assigned to the major, he still didn’t feel like he knew him. He could be a vicious man—shown by his treatment of Jacob Sternberg. But he was sometimes compassionate, feeding livestock on an abandoned farm, ensuring a broken door was closed. He was an enigma, a man who detested humans but loved animals. Bayer could never guess which man would surface next—the cruel Gestapo major or the country gentleman, kind and compassionate, considerate of others.
Bayer got little information from those that walked through town. He entered a pharmacy, finding an older man with roun
