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“What makes you think you can get them out?”

“There are ways.”

“What I see is Gisella waving bye-bye to the airplane, or the boat, or whatever. The way you and I waved bye-bye to the submarine off Safi,” Fulmar said.

“So long as I’m running this,” Canidy said,“that won’t happen.”

“But you can’t, or won’t, tell me why they want him out?” Fulmar asked.

“Can’t,” Canidy said. “And if I have to say this, Eric, you and I both got out of Morocco eventually.”

“What do you think would happen to her if her father suddenly disappeared? ” Fulmar asked. “And what makes you think she’ll go along with this, anyway? What’s in it for her? And don’t wave the flag. That won’t wash.”

“Getting out is what’s in it for them,” Canidy said. “He’s still considered dangerous, I’m sure. Sooner or later, they’ll arrest him. The both of them. They know that.”

“So long as she’s ‘being nice’ to Peis,” Fulmar said, “or his successor, they’re probably reasonably safe.”

“Peis?” Fine asked.

“The local cop,” Canidy said. “Gestapo.”

“No,” Fulmar said,“SS-SD. There’s a difference.”

“What about Peis?” Fine pursued.

“What I thought was my irresistible charm in wooing the fair Gisella,” Fulmar said,“turned out to be this Peis character telling her to be nice to me.”

“I don’t suppose he’s still there, but it should be checked out,” Fine said. “Have you got a first name, Eric?”

“Herr Hauptsturmführer,” Fulmar said. “He’s not too bright, but he’s a real prick. Think of a stupid Eldon Baker in a black uniform.”

Canidy laughed.

“You haven’t told me what you want me to do,” Fulmar said. “That would be nice to know before I tell you to go fuck yourself.”

“What we want to do right now is prove to Gisella (a) that you’re in England, and (b) in a position to send messages over the BBC.”

“‘Pigeons are pissing in the Seine,’ that kind of message?”

Canidy nodded.

“And something only I could know, right?” Fulmar asked, and when Canidy nodded again, asked, as if he had just thought of this, “And what makes you think she’ll be listening to the BBC? That’s a sure way to get sent to a Konzentrationslager.”

“We’re taking care of that,” Fine said.

Fulmar looked at him curiously.

“Müller’s going to get her a radio,” Canidy said.

Fulmar’s look turned incredulous. Then Canidy nodded.

“Jesus,” Fulmar said, impressed.

“Think of something, Eric,” Canidy said gently. “Something intimate, something she would remember, something they would not, of course, connect with her.”

“In other words, something happened in bed, right?” Fulmar snapped.

“Anything that will do the job,” Canidy said. “Sex is intimate and private. That’s why I got into that. And for obvious reasons, we’re going to need more than one message. But we need one now.”