The rear section of the vehicle was arranged like a cozy sitting room, with two leather sofas facing each other. A Wagner opera, Gotterdammerung — Twilight of the Gods, played softly. Dim lights illuminated the mahogany woodwork. Curtains covered the windows.

Armande Hoffgeitz shook Klaus’s hand and pecked Tanya’s cheek. “You’re three minutes late,” he said. “Do you need a new watch?”

The two men laughed, and Klaus pointed at the truck. “More than sixteen thousand gold watches in there. Maybe I’ll keep one.” He pulled off his gloves.

Armande Hoffgeitz looked at his hand. “You’re not wearing the ring.” He held his own hand to the ambient lamp. A serpent intertwined with the letters LASN, which stood for Lyceum Alpin St. Nicholas, the Swiss boarding school they had attended together.

“Regulations allow only one.” Klaus tapped his SS ring. “ Treu. Tapfer. Gehorsam. ”

“And are you still loyal, valiant, obedient?”

“I’m down to valiant only.” Klaus reached into his coat and took out a pocket-size ledger, bound in black leather and marked with a red swastika. “How’s business in Zurich?”

“The war has been very good for us. Too bad it’s about to end.” His grin faded when he met Tanya’s eyes. “I’m only joking, Fraulein, yes?”

Tanya smiled. After three years in their world, she had learned to smile well, even to the most piggish remarks.

Klaus handed him the ledger. “The total numbers include all the previous deliveries. This truckload is my last.”

“Everything is still in the original boxes, stored in our cellar vaults, per your instructions.” The banker opened the ledger.

“We took back what they stole from Europe over the centuries. One day, I will use it to build the Fourth Reich.”

“A noble aspiration.” Armande glanced at Tanya before holding the ledger up against the lamp. “But it will take time for the world to forget this war.”