Eddie Giral, a gritty DI working in occupied Paris during the war, investigates the grisly murder of a criminal in a seedy jazz club. I was immediately transported to the underbelly of the city - Eddie’s sarcasm gave the story a much needed lighter tone. And his hunger for food I found almost tangible.
'Edouard, my friend.'
'Major Hochstetter, my German.'
'It feels like an age since last we met.'
'All good things must end, Major.'
Hochstetter was the German intelligence officer assigned to coordinate with my police department. More precisely, with me. It was just another of the gifts the Occupation kept on giving. He seemed to have just two ways of contacting me, one was to turn up unannounced in my office like a viral wraith. The other was to send for me. Today, he'd done the summoning thing.
