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Müller’s manner of returning the now-required straight-armed Nazi salute—or, more accurately, of not returning it—was intentional, an affectation that he had learned from Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz.

They had been having lunch, as they did at least twice a week, in the Adlon Hotel; and they had to wait for a table because of an official luncheon. A steady procession of military, security service, and party dignitaries came into the lobby and exchanged greetings.

Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz leaned forward and spoke softly.

"You will notice, Johnny,” he said dryly,“that, with a few exceptions, the crispness of the salute is in inverse proportion to the importance of the saluter.”

Müller laughed. Von Heurten-Mitnitz had put into words what he had himself noticed, especially that the whole salute and “Heil” business had become mandatory. Young officers—and especially young SS officers—and zealous Party officials came to attention and saluted so crisply they almost quivered.

Senior officers, both military and Party, were almost to a man far more sloppy. As often as not they “forgot” the “Heil, Hitler,” or said it in a mumble.

It was as if they were saying,“That little dance is of course necessary for you underlings, but certainly not for someone like myself, of unquestioned loyalty and importance.”

Müller then rose to his feet. “I am going to piss,” he said, giving a very sloppy Nazi greeting to von Heurten-Mitnitz. “Heil Hitler, Herr Minister.”

"Heil Hitler, Herr Standartenführer,” von Heurten-Mitnitz replied, returning an even more casual salute.

And as he walked across the marble-floored lobby of the Adlon to the men’s room, two Gestapo agents and an SS-SD Sturmbannführer, standing in conversation by one of the tall marble columns, recognized him and gave the Nazi salute in a manner that would have pleased Adolf Hitler himself.

And they smiled with pleasure when he returned it with a casual movement of his lower arm and said, “Was ist los?” instead of “Heil Hitler.”

Now Müller thought of that incident in the Adlon. And thought again that he had learned a good deal from the Pomeranian aristocrat since

he had come to know him. Helmut von Heurten-Mitnitz was a very smart fellow. He hoped von Heurten-Mitnitz was smart enough to keep them from being caught, doing what they were now doing.

“I’m doing fine, Herr Standartenführer,” Peis said. “And may I say that it is a pleasure to see you so soon again?”

“I had a very good time on New Year’s Eve, Wilhelm,” Müller said. “A very good time.”

“I’m glad,” Peis said, then added:“I thought you might like her.”

“And they’ve given me a new car, and I thought I should take it for a run and see how it handles, and here I am, Wilhelm.”

“A new car, Herr Standartenführer?”

Müller motioned him to the window and pointed out the Opel Admiral.

“Very nice,” Peis said. “You must have a friend in the transport office, Herr Standartenführer. A good friend.”

“You know how it goes, Wilhelm,” Müller said, “one hand washes the other.”

Peis nodded understanding.

“First things first,” Müller said. “I forgot to apply for gasoline coupons. You know how it is.”

“No problem whatsoever, Herr Standartenführer,” Peis said. “We’ll fill it up here, and then I’ll give you whatever ration coupons you require.”

“Very good of you, Peis,” Müller said. “I will be in your debt.”

“Not at all, Herr Standartenführer. My pleasure.”

"And, since I am here, I thought, I might telephone Fräulein Dyer and ask if she’s free. If she is, perhaps you and your lady friend—any one of your many extraordinarily lovely lady friends—might wish to have dinner with me?”

“I would be delighted,” Peis said. “If you would permit me, Herr Standartenführer, I would be happy to telephone the lady and make the arrangements. And I presume you would like to stay at the Kurhotel again?”

“What I thought I would do, Wilhelm,” Müller said, “is visit my mother this afternoon, and then we could meet for drinks at half past six at the Kurhotel?”

"Consider it done, Herr Standartenführer,” Peis said. “And if I may make the suggestion, why don’t I turn my car over to you this afternoon? Then I could have the Admiral serviced and fueled, awaiting you at the Kurhotel.”