The TV spat silent images of crises in other places. The air-con was going full blast and sounded like a coven of witches, out of sight, flying circles, riding their brooms, exhaling arctic breath, somewhere above his head. Carissa had fallen asleep, fully clothed, on the bed next to him. It was breakfast time. Or 2am in Hamburg. Sundermann answered on the second ring.
“Maier, you hit the big city?”
“Yes, I just dropped Rolf Müller-Overbeck in hospital. He is almost safe and sound and will come out of this with a couple of scratches, both mental and physical.”
Maier squinted into the morning. He was exhausted and not in the mood for a debriefing. He looked across at Carissa who managed to look beautiful even as she slept with her mouth open and her face drawn.
3000 miles to the west, h
