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Hamburg State Prosecutor Chastity Riley and her new sidekick Ivo investigate the case of newspaper executives who have been caged and tortured outside their offices … on a trail that leads them to the hothouse world of boarding schools and some harrowing secrets… You loved Dark … now meet Chastity Riley 'Caustic, incisive prose. A street-smart, gutsy heroine. A timely and staggeringly stylish thriller' Will Carver 'With plenty of dry humour and a good old dash of despair, Simone Buchholz is an unconventional, refreshing new voice' Crime Fiction Lover 'Lyrical and pithy' Sunday Times ***WINNER of the CWA Crime in Translation Dagger 2022*** ***WINNER of the German Crime Book of the Year Award*** _______________ On a warm September morning, an unconscious man is found in a cage at the entrance to the offices of one of Germany's biggest magazines. He's soon identified as a manager of the company, and he's been tortured. Three days later, another manager appears in a similar way. Chastity Riley and her new colleague Ivo Stepanovic are tasked with uncovering the truth behind the attacks, an investigation that goes far beyond the revenge they first suspect … to the dubious past shared by both victims. Travelling to the south of Germany, they step into the hothouse world of boarding schools, where secrets are currency, and monsters are bred … monsters who will stop at nothing to protect themselves. A smart, dark, probing thriller, full of all the hard-boiled poetry and acerbic wit of the very best noir, Beton Rouge is both a classic whodunit and a scintillating expose of society, by one of the most exciting names in crime fiction. _______________ 'Stripped back in style and deadpan in voice, this is a scintillating romp' Doug Johnstone, Big Issue 'With brief, pacy chapters and fizzling dialogue, this almost feels like American procedural noir and not a translation' Maxim Jakubowski, CrimeTime 'There is a fantastic pace to the story which keeps you hooked from the first sentence all the way to the end. Once again Simone Buchholz holds no punches, with a unique voice that delivers a stylish story' New Books Magazine 'The follow-up to Blue Night is a smart and witty book that shines a probing spotlight on society' CultureFly 'Fans of Brookmyre could do worse than checking out Simone Buchholz, a star of the German crime lit scene who has been deftly translated into English by Rachel Ward' Goethe Institute 'Beton Rouge is a killer read, original, unusual and yet I felt that a part of it, in fact a part of Chastity, lodged itself deeply within my soul, it's quite simply fabulous' LoveReading 'Great sparkling energy, humour and stylistic verve' Rosie Goldsmith Praise for the Chastity Riley series 'Combines nail-biting tension with off-beat humor ... Elmore Leonard fans will be enthralled' Publishers Weekly 'Buchholz doles out delicious black humor ... interwoven in a manner that ramps up the intrigue and tension' Foreword Reviews 'Fans of Brookmyre could do worse than checking out Simone Buchholz, a star of the German crime lit scene who has been deftly translated into English by Rachel Ward' Goethe Institute 'By turns lyrical and pithy, this adventure set in the melting pot of contemporary Hamburg has a plot and a sensibility that both owe something to mind-altering substances. Lots of fun' Sunday Times
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Seitenzahl: 244
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018
‘Caustic, incisive prose. A street-smart, gutsy heroine. A timely and staggeringly stylish thriller from an original new voice’ Will Carver
‘This book is to crime thriller what jazz music is to classical. With plenty of dry humour and a good old dash of despair, Simone Buchholz is an unconventional, refreshing new voice, the likes of which I haven’t heard in German crime fiction since Arjouni’ Crime Fiction Lover
‘I loved this book, I ached to continue reading when pesky things like work got in the way. I highly recommend it!’ From Belgium
‘Short chapters, snappy sentences, witty dialogue and succinct writing have created a fast-paced read – saying “just one more chapter” to myself led me to read most of the book in one sitting. The descriptions are vivid and rich, painting a colourful picture of the German setting’ Off-the-Shelf Books
‘Snappy dialogue and the sense of life happening constantly in the shadows of a world we think we know. Stripped back in style and deadpan in voice, this is a scintillating romp around the German criminal underworld and back’ Doug Johnstone, Big Issue
‘Written with a sense of place, a fresh voice, and a fast pace. Absolutely recommended’ Euro Crime
‘An original, firecracker of a read, it will undoubtedly be one of my books of the year, I absolutely loved it’ Liz Robinson, LoveReading
‘By turns lyrical and pithy, this adventure set in the melting pot of contemporary Hamburg has a plot and a sensibility that both owe something to mind-altering substances … Lots of fun’ Sunday Times Crime Club
‘If Philip Marlowe and Bernie Gunther got together in a Hamburg speakeasy and had a literary love child, then that might just explain Chastity Riley – Simone Buchholz’s tough, acerbic and utterly engaging central character’ William Ryan
‘A must-read, stylish and highly original take on the detective novel, written with great skill and popping with great characters’ Judith O’Reilly
‘Witty and original, beautifully translated by Rachel Ward, A gripping investigation that’s also a moving love letter to Hamburg and the bonds of friendship’ Dr Kat Hall
‘Great sparkling energy, humour and stylistic verve … and the story itself is gripping and pacey. Simone Buchholz’s homage to Raymond Chandler and Jonny Cash is affectionate and deliberate. Then there’s the interplay of author and translator, like musicians in the same band … creating an all-female tour de force’ Rosie Goldsmith, European Literature Network
‘Buchholz gives us a declaration of love for all the grime of a city of contrasts. Dripping with local colour, soaked in beer and infused with cigarette smoke, this is not your typical police procedural’ Katy Derbyshire, Love German Books
‘Chastity Riley belongs among Germany’s most complex crime heroines: a lone wolf who looks into the chasms of human society’ Brigitte
‘Simone Buchholz just writes very, very well, all the while sure of her milieu, atmospherically confident and full of empathy for her characters’ Bücher magazin
‘Explosive writing, larger-than-life characters, a killer mystery … Loved it!’ LV Hay
‘A fast-paced Noir that tackles some serious and contemporary issues, while delivering full-on entertainment. Chastity Riley is a strong modern woman, she is affected by the dislocation of the city, but she has her friends, she looks after them, she is formidable and independently minded’ New Books Magazine
‘An easy to devour, brilliant story. I highly recommend!’ Between the Pages Book Club
‘The pacing and the unfolding of the story within the first half of the book made it very difficult to put down; however, during the second half of the book I found I couldn’t read it fast enough! A brilliant taste of German Noir which I hope is received as well in the UK as it was in Germany’ Have Books Will Read
‘A rich, tightly woven plot that’s brimming with intrigue and with plenty of backstory woven in, compelling characters and a great approach to narrative … oh, and it all rips along at one hell of a pace … Buchholz’s writing style is original, and she delivers a fantastic story in a unique voice that’s a welcome blast of fresh air and a great start to the year’s reading’ Mumbling about…
‘A gritty and raw crime novel that brings German Noir to the British reader. Simone Buchholz pulls no punches in a stunning new novel that really ends up exploding in your face’ The Last Word Book Review
‘Hard-hitting Hamburg Noir with a female protagonist you can’t help but like and respect. It is also a crime novel with a unique voice that delivers with style and panache. I want to read more of Chastity Reilly as soon as possible’ Live and Deadly
‘What a clever thriller this is. All credit to Rachel Ward too, as the translation of this book is seamless, making the direct first-person narrative of Chas, and the other assorted characters, just fly’ Jen Med’s Book Reviews
‘This short and gritty crime story hit the ground running and didn’t let up until the final page’ I Loved Reading This
‘Gripping, tense and difficult to put down’ Portable Magic
‘The story and writing slowly seep into your soul, to the extent that I found it almost impossible to put it down! … It’s a firstclass piece of storytelling, with believable characters and based in a gritty reality … The novel is full of dark themes, but is at all times thrilling and unnerving’ Books Are My Cwtches
‘I really liked Chastity – she has plenty of compassion, and is loyal, funny and down to earth. And she has some of the best observations on life that I have read in fiction. A very successful series that is well-established in Germany, I have no doubt that it will do just as well in other countries’ Steph’s Book Blog
‘Buchholz has a refreshingly new, provocative voice, and I have no doubt she will stand out among a sea of writers … It takes your breath away and then it burns until a warmth settles into the pit of your stomach. That’s the kind of mark and statement Buchholz is making’ Cheryl M-M’s Book Blog
‘A cracking story with a splash of classic Noir crime and a lead character who is full of compassion, loyalty and is a force to be reckoned with’ Emma’s Bookish Corner
‘I thought that this book was fantastic! Everything about the book worked for me – the characters were brilliant, the pace was spot on and the plot was gripping, thrilling and completely addictive!’ Donna’s Book Blog
‘Simply addictive … It isn’t painted as a sixth sense or a mystical ability but does come across as Chastity being very much in her element in those mean streets as the late drinkers head home and the litter blows down the Reeperbahn. Simply an excellent slice of atmospheric crime. Give me more, soon!’ Blue Book Balloon
‘This novel is steeped in pure grit and darkness. For me the grittiest element was Chastity Riley – a hard-drinking, smoking, nononsense, kick-ass prosecutor not afraid to challenge the good and the bad guys … The novel is dark, subversive and just that little bit different from everything in the crime genre’ My Bookish Blogspot
‘A deliciously dark novel with layers upon layers of mystery, not all uncovered by the end of it. Buchholz leaves her readers intrigued to know more about these characters. Whatever case Chastity Riley takes up next, if indeed she does, I’ll be very keen to uncover it with her. The magic of Orenda Books strikes again!’ Segnalibro
‘Simone Buchholz has created a contemporary thriller with all the coolness of classic Noir. Dark, pessimistic and gritty; exuding atmosphere, the story enveloped me like wisps of cigarette smoke. I loved it and can’t wait to read more of this exciting series’ Hair Past a Freckle
‘The sentences were snappy and the writing was highly addictive and engaging … German Noir is something new to me, but I was utterly enthralled and will most definitely be reading more. Simone Buchholz has a refreshing writing style and a unique talent for drawing the reader right into the heart of the story with the wonderful descriptions of Hamburg and a narrative that is spectacular. Really recommend it’ Reflections of a Reader
‘The wonderful way that Buchholz brings her plot alive through gritty, punchy and thrilling writing makes this a gripping read that readers can race through, devouring every last, tantalising detail’ The Quiet Knitter
‘Simone Buchholz has created a striking, thrilling set of characters. With its unique chapters, wonderful writing and show-stopping protagonist, a book that will win over the hearts and minds of a lot of readers! Fast-paced. Dark. Thrilling’ Ronnie Turner
‘I was kept on my toes with this dark and gritty crime story. It’s not a long book but it’s certainly packed to the brim and could easily be read in one sitting, it pulls you in, and with relatively short chapters it was very easy to get lost in the story’ It’s All about the Books
‘Sharply written with a staccato sense to it that really draws you in … I loved the character of Chastity, who is cleverly drawn. Overall Blue Night is fast, considered and written beautifully. Very different. I like different. It’s refreshing. Highly recommended’ Liz Loves Books
‘Gripping, ominous and delightfully edgy. I can’t wait to meet up with Chastity Riley again soon. For a shorter than average novel, it really packs one heck of a punch!’ Damppebbles
‘A really unique read, and I grew to love the structure and style. Beautifully written and seamlessly translated, Buchholz offers something refreshingly different to what’s on the market currently. I urge you to check it out’ Bloomin’ Brilliant Books
‘It has all the danger, thrills and twists required to keep the reader on edge throughout, and I highly recommend it to all crime readers. It was a treat to experience Chastity Riley’s story and I hope to cross paths with her again soon’ Always Trust in Books
‘This story is so atmospheric, and it has done an excellent job of portraying the gritty, raw, seedy hedonism of Hamburg at that time’ Sissi Reads
‘Buchholz has created a phenomenal female character, Chastity Riley … I found myself racing through each page, eager to find out more … I can’t wait to read more from this author’ Compulsive Readers
‘The chapters are short, which helped to keep the story fresh and made me want to read more … a different and intriguing crime story, and I will be interested in seeing what is in store for Chastity next’ Rae Reads
‘This is straight up one of the most intriguing books I’ve had the pleasure of reading! … I imagine it’s going to be a long time before I read something quite so extraordinary’ The P Turners’ Book Blog
‘This is a dark, gritty read with heaps of action … it packs a real punch and is a testament to Simone Buchholz’s writing … Wonderful’ Beverley Has Read
‘The chapters are short and are infused with one-liners and monologues, making it a very fast book to read … It is, I imagine, what would have been termed hard-boiled crime fiction, a style synonymous with 1920s America, but with a very modern and German twist’ Swirl and Thread
‘It’s gritty and yes, it’s dark but it’s also an incredibly refreshing take on the crime-fiction genre with a fabulous cast of characters and a delicious sense of humour that won me over within the first few pages’ Novel Deelights
SIMONE BUCHHOLZ
translated by Rachel Ward
For Neville Longbottom
The sky is grey,
The houses are greyer,
A very warm welcome to Grey-upon-Despair,
Eyes scream at me: ‘You’re not from round here,’
Little red-brick houses, gardens all cement,
For each of life’s problem there’s an alcoholic drink,
While all of life’s joys step over the brink,
Walk through the streets, there’s no colour and no life,
The cold social wind cuts right through me like a knife,
See, here, my son, there’s no happy ending,
Without immigration, there’s not enough befriending,
I’m stranded here like a shipwrecked sailor,
Who doesn’t even have enough weed to roll a spliff.
Absolute Beginner: ‘Nach Hause’ [Going Home]
(from the album ‘Advanced Chemistry’, 2016)
The rain creates walls in the night. Falling from the sky, they are like mirrors, reflecting and warping the blue light from the police car.
Everything spins.
The street emerges from the darkness and loses itself between the harbour lights, and there – right in the middle, just where it suddenly drops downhill – is where it happened: a cyclist.
She’s lying, twisted, on the asphalt, her strawberry-blonde hair forming a delicate pool around her head. Her pale dress is awash with blood; the blood seems to be flowing from her side, staining the concrete red. There’s a black shoe – some kind of ballet flat – on her right foot and no skin at all on her left. The bike’s lying a few feet away on a grass verge, as if it’s been ditched.
The woman isn’t moving; only her ribcage twitches desperately, as if to rise and fall, but then it doesn’t move at all. Her body is trying to take in air from somewhere.
Two paramedics are leaning over and talking to her, but it doesn’t look as though they’re getting through. It doesn’t look as though anything’s getting through any more. Death is about to give her a ride.
Two police officers are cordoning off the accident site, shadows dancing on their faces. Now and then, a car comes past and drives slowly around her. The people in the cars don’t want to look too closely.
The paramedics do things to their paramedic cases; then they close them, stand up.
That must be it, then.
So, thinks God, looking industrious, that’s that. He picks up his well-chewed pencil, crosses the cyclist off, and wonders whose life he could play football with next.
I think: I’m not on duty. I’m just on my way to the nearest pub.
But as I’m here.
‘Hello,’ I say.
What else was I supposed to say?
‘Move along, please,’ says the more solid of the two policemen. He’s pulled his cap right down over his face; raindrops are glittering on his black moustache. The other has his back to me and is on his phone.
‘I certainly can,’ I say, ‘or I can stay and take care of a few things.’ I hold out my hand. ‘Chastity Riley, public prosecutor.’
‘Ah, OK.’
He takes my hand but doesn’t shake it. I feel as though he’s holding it. Because that’s what you do at times like this, when someone’s just died – because a tiny bit of all of us dies along with them and so everything’s a bit shaky. The big policeman and I seem suddenly involved in a relationship of mutual uncertainty.
‘Dirk Kammann,’ he says. ‘Davidwache Station. My colleague’s on the phone to our CID.’
‘OK,’ I say.
‘OK,’ he says, letting go of my hand.
‘Hit-and-run?’ I ask.
‘Looks like it. She hardly drove over her own belly.’
I nod, he nods; we stop talking but stand side by side a while longer. When the dark-blue saloon draws up with the CID guys from the Davidwache, I say goodbye and go, but I look back round before turning the corner. There’s a grey veil over the brightly lit scene, and it’s not the rain; for once it’s not even the persistent rain that falls in my head. This isn’t my personal charcoal grey; it’s a universal one.
I call Klatsche and tell him that there’s nothing doing tonight. That I don’t feel like the pub.
Then I go home, sit by the window and stare into the night.
The moon looks like it feels sick.
It makes him look so ridiculous. ’Cos he’s shit-scared.
First I undressed him, then I strapped him down.
He doesn’t like it, of course. Nobody would. He’d rather know the meaning of all this. Keeps asking. He’s been asking constantly since he woke up half an hour ago.
But I don’t tell him.
You don’t always have to know the meaning of all this: the stick in my hands, the Bunsen burner, the saw.
First there’s another big dose of chloroform to keep things quiet. Stop the moaning etc.
Then we’ll take it from there.
Haze lies over the city; last night’s rain left it behind. It’s too warm, almost twenty degrees this morning, even though it’s late September.
I stand on my balcony and drink coffee with this laundry room all around me. The cranes on the horizon have vanished – the thick air’s eaten them up. The shrieking of the harbour gulls sounds unusually clear, and almost too close, as if they might put aside their friendliness any minute and start pecking at someone’s forehead – maybe mine.
It’s just after nine. I ought to go to work.
Go on, then.
I put my coffee – half-gone-cold, half-got-lost – down in the kitchen, take a thin leather jacket from the coat hook, just in case, and set off.
Breathing this haze, which seems to soak up the big-city smog like a sponge, is a bit like smoking. I also light a cigarette – double poisoning is more reliable. I’ve smoked far too little in the last few days; that needs to change, and so does everything else.
On my third drag, my mobile rings; I answer reluctantly: ‘Riley.’
‘Good morning, Ms Riley. Kolb here.’
The attorney general. She likes me. And she doesn’t like me. It’s hit-and-miss. You never quite know.
‘Dr Kolb, good morning. What’s up?’
‘I’ve got something for you.’
I keep walking through the cloud that’s fallen from heaven and find myself thinking about last night’s accident. Or, to be precise, I can’t stop thinking about last night’s accident.
‘A hit-and-run?’ I ask.
‘No. Why do you say that?’
‘Just wondered,’ I say, drag on my cigarette again and throw it away. Sometimes I’m included in current stuff, sometimes not. I wonder what she wants.
‘Where are you now?’ she asks.
‘On my way to the office.’
‘On foot?’
‘As ever.’
‘In that case, could you please turn right, as unbureaucratically as possible, and head for the harbour?’ she says. ‘Outside Mohn & Wolff there’s a man in a cage, right by the main entrance. The people from the local station are trying to get him out.’
I stop. ‘A man in a cage?’
‘That’s all I know,’ she says, and she sounds impatient. ‘It’s still very fresh. Inspector Stepanovic from SCO 44 called me – presumably they’re taking the case. He’s on his way, but he’s stuck in traffic so he’ll be a while. In the meantime, go and take a look, please; it could be a matter of public interest, which could get political.’
I nod and hang up, forgetting, as I so often do, that you can’t hear a nod down the phone. But Dr Kolb isn’t the kind of person who cares about niceties. Perhaps that’s one of the main things we have in common.
A man in a cage outside Hamburg’s biggest magazine publisher. For the moment, it sounds more like really weird guerrilla marketing than anything ‘political’. ‘Political’ can only mean one of two things:
Something’s happened and people might take to the barricades, so the mayor’s busy getting his best troops together.We don’t know if there’s anything funny about this, so we’re keeping things quiet for the moment, but in public we want it to look like we’re being totally transparent and totally on it and generally the total dog’s bollocks.In scenario one, I don’t figure – I’m not one of the mayor’s best people, I’m one of his best-hidden people. So it boils down to scenario two – in which Riley, specialist in dark holes, gets let out of her own dark hole.
I’m intrigued that someone from Serious Crime Office 44 is on the way. I’m still not sure exactly what their area is. But they’re some kind of hardcore guys, I know that. So much for we’re totally on it and totally awesome.
We’ll see about that.
I step on it and break into a run, heading for the Bismarck monument.
The cage is made of black metal. It has thick, extremely robust-looking bars, and it’s not particularly big. Just large enough for a grown man to fit inside if you fold him in half first. The man is about forty, maybe even forty-five, it’s hard to say for sure. He’s very thin and in pretty good shape, and his features are perfectly formed. His dark hair is cut short at the back and sides, but just a fraction over-long on top; strands fall onto his face. Combed back, the style demands a suit. But at the moment, the man is naked and injured and so far out of his senses that it’s hard for my mind to sustain the businesslike image of the guy that it’s built up without my even thinking about it. He has welts on his wrists and ankles, as if he’s spent quite a while tied up. His whole body is covered with livid bruises and scratches. And, as if I’m looking at a bloody, weeping painting, somehow I get a sense of something very much like despair – but I can’t say where the despair is coming from: from the man who’s been stuffed in the cage like a rabid animal, or from the person who’s done it. What I’m looking at seems to depict a complete absence of voluntary action.
I have to take a deep breath, and then another and another, before I can move a few steps closer.
It looks as though the naked man’s consciousness is now working its way, bit by bit, to the surface. His eyes are closed and he’s slowly moving his head to and fro while one of the two uniformed policemen tortures the padlock on the cage with a bolt cutter – it’s obviously putting up quite a fight. It’s a pretty impressive padlock – it’s about the size of a small loaf of bread and it looks a couple of hundred years old. The cage has been placed right outside the main entrance to the building. If you want to go through the revolving glass door, you have to pass the cage. Seen from the harbour, the massive glass façade resembles a gigantic cruise ship; now it’s reflecting the sun, which is pushing through the clouds in perfect time with the man in the cage coming round.
A sprinkling of onlookers stands round the cage. Some are smoking, and judging by their coolness and unobtrusively elegant clothes, a few are journalists. OK, they’re running a bit late, but they can’t just walk past this confusing arrangement on their way to work. The majority look more like tourists – part of the horde that the harbour disgorges every morning. They’re wearing little rucksacks, cropped trousers and practical jackets. It always strikes me that tourists in Hamburg look completely different from tourists in Munich or Berlin, where it wouldn’t occur to anybody to stick a sou’wester on their head. Some even have those mad, modern walking sticks. Perhaps they think Hamburg is already on the North Sea, although that’s a good thirty to fifty years off yet. It freaks me out that some people plan so far in advance, even if it’s only for one holiday. I prefer to take things as they come.
‘Morning,’ I say, coming to stand beside the two policemen.
‘Morning, Ms Riley,’ says the one standing up, who either wants to leave the other guy to get on with it or is simply above such a task. We must have met, seeing as he knows my name this early in the morning. He’s definitely in his late fifties, has a mighty belly, and there are grey curls on the back of his neck, curling under his uniform cap. The name on his police jacket reads ‘Flotow’. Ah, I remember: Station 16, on Lerchenstrasse.
‘We met at Lerchenstrasse,’ I say.
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Switched six months ago. Station 14, Caffamacherreihe.’ He shoves his hands in his trouser pockets in that passive-aggressive way beloved of fattish, older, not particularly tall men, and looks reproachfully at me. ‘I’d had it up to here with the red-light scene in the Kiez.’
As if the Kiez were my responsibility. When it’s more like the Kiez is responsible for me.
Sergeant Flotow turns back to his colleague, who’s still sweating and cursing over the lock. ‘Get a move on, Hoschi. The poor bloke’ll wake up soon, and then he’ll start screaming at us too.’
Hoschi grunts, and I imagine that it means something like ‘get on with it yourself, dickhead’, but, unfortunately for Hoschi, the four pale-blue stars on Sergeant Flotow’s epaulets make it abundantly clear who’s in charge here – and whose job it is to kindly get on with wrestling with the bloody lock.
‘Officer Lienen,’ says Flotow, pointing at his colleague on the pavement.
‘Morning Mr Lienen,’ I say, kneeling down beside him.
He’s nearly got the lock.
‘You’ve nearly got the lock,’ I say, trying to look encouraging. Unfortunately, encouraging looks aren’t part of my skillset, so the result is a kind of tic that nobody understands.
Lienen looks at me, his eyes narrowed to slits. His expression conveys such violent contempt for his boss that I think: Hoschi, you and I should go for a beer, preferably right now.
‘Exhibiting a person in a cage,’ I say. ‘That’s properly sick.’
‘You should have seen what was going on here when we arrived,’ says Lienen, shaking his head in a way that’s half annoyed and half confused.
‘What was going on?’
The padlock gives – crack – way and falls apart. Lienen stands up. He holds the bolt cutter like a baseball bat.
‘Well,’ says Flotow, ‘people weren’t exactly acting civilised.’
Lienen pushes back his cap and wipes the sweat from his brow.
‘Meaning?’ I ask.
‘They were doing something very unpleasant,’ says Flotow.
Aha. Doing something very unpleasant. Do I really have to winkle every detail out of him? I more or less plant myself in front of Flotow.
‘Don’t make me winkle every detail out of you,’ I say. ‘What was the situation in the moment you arrived? And what is it now?’