Excerpt from The Berlin Exchange by Joseph Kanon, plus links to reviews, author biography & more

Martin raised his eyes but said nothing, waiting to take his cue from Kurt.

"You came to see me?" Kurt said.

"For details. About the incident this morning."

"Incident?"

"At Invalidenstrasse. Wall jumpers. In an ambulance. I think something new, using an ambulance. I don't remember anyone before—"

"And did they make it?" Kurt said.

Martin looked at him.

"No. One dead. Just now."

"Dead?" Martin said.

"Your news travels fast," Kurt said.

"A tip."

"A friend at the hospital?" Really asking.

"Everywhere. You know the news business."

"Neues Deutschland?" Kurt said, an exaggerated skepticism, playing.

"Yes, I know. The SED Congress, the trade delegation. But that's not all we are. A man shot dead in Invalidenstrasse? People want to know."

"But will the SED want them to know? Nobody dies at the wall these days. You still have your old habits, Hans." He turned to Martin. "Hans is a refugee from the West. He used to work for Springer, so he's a bloodhound with a crime story. Except there is no crime in the Republic."

"So you saw nothing?" Hans said. "I thought maybe— It's your favorite crossing, no? Back and forth he goes," he said to Martin. "The only one these days."

"I have business in the West. In the interests of the East."

"But not this morning? It's easily checked." Looking up at him.

Kurt stared back, deciding something. "There was an exchange, yes," he said flatly. "The incident must have been after."

"Well, as I said, it's easily checked."

Kurt shrugged. "They will never print this story. So why—?"

"I know. You're right—old habits. What else would I do?" He looked again at Martin. "The exchange was for you?"

"Let me introduce you. Martin Keller."

Hans peered at Martin, rifling through some mental file drawer. "The spy?" How he'd be known now. Hans turned to Kurt. "You might have told me. I suppose he's already promised to Gerhard? Some favor you owe him."

"It's not in my gift, Hans. They want Gerhard to do the interview. I'll make it up to you."

"Oh yes? How? Maybe that interview with your son you keep promising."

Kurt held up his hand. "And if it were up to me, you'd have it. But you know the DFF, they control everything. Every move."

"You could talk to them. You're his father."

Kurt glanced at Martin, uneasy.

"I can ask again, yes. But you know what they're like." He paused. "What do you want to know? About this morning?"

Hans looked at him, surprised, an unexpected olive branch. "You saw it?"

Kurt nodded. "Well, if you call it seeing. A flash and then it's over. You understand I had to protect Martin, get him out of there, so I wasn't noticing much. What, in particular?"

"Nothing in particular. Just—what happened. Why didn't it work?"

"Why didn't it work?"

"The escape. The barrier was raised, the ambulance is close, nobody suspecting until the last minute. A minute is all they needed. So why?"

"Why? You'll have to ask them why."

"Only one now."

"All right, him, then."

"If I can get to him."

"Why," Kurt repeated, shrugging. "Maybe bad luck. Maybe kids who didn't know what they were doing. It's often the case. So." An end to it, about to move away. "I'm sorry about Gerhard. Next time."

Hans made a faint smile. "Your next spy." He looked at Martin. "You're the physicist, no? So here's another. My interview today." He tilted his head up, someone at the hotel. "A returnee. What do you ask a physicist? That a reader understands?"

"Returnee," Kurt said. "I thought the Russians sent the last one back years ago."

"Not Schell."

"Stefan Schell?" Martin said.

Hans looked over at him. "You know him?"

A look from Kurt that Martin couldn't interpret.

Excerpted from The Berlin Exchange by Joseph Kanon. Copyright © 2022 by Joseph Kanon. Excerpted by permission of Scribner. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.