Los Angeles 1930s. The victim’s short blonde hair was wet, and she was naked. From the blueish tint to her skin, it appeared she had drowned. At this distance from shore, she should have been under thirty feet of water, but the reservoir was empty, only a shallow pool remaining where she lay. She looked European, perhaps Germanic, with her prominent nose and high cheekbones. In her early thirties, she was young and fit with an athletic build and piercing blue eyes that now stared vacantly into space. The way the killer had posed her body looked like a ritual, but that was only a guess. But Detective Mathieu had come to trust his instincts. They’d served him well in his previous cases. The case would plunge Mathieu into a world of unbridled hate, filled with Nazi spies and terrorists in 1930s Los Angeles.