The Haunted Detective

by Pirate Irwin

  Levau didn’t look best pleased and threw his hat onto his desk..

  “Can’t it wait? The café may be closed by the time I get there if you hold me up for too long,” said Levau making clear his displeasure.

  “I’m afraid Levau this can’t be postponed. It’s a personal matter and needs to be cleared up now if you are to continue being part of the investigation and indeed in the service,” said Lafarge.

  Levau looked astonished at what Lafarge had said and not a little bit annoyed.

  “Very well sir let us conduct it here and not informally if it is such a serious matter,” he said his tone glacial.

  “Okay then Levau. Have it your own way. I’d like to assure you that this is between us for the moment. I haven’t felt the need to inform Pinault or Luizet until I hear your version,” said Lafarge trying to defrost the atmosphere.

  If he’d hoped to achieve that result he failed miserably.

  “How very kind of you,” said Levau. The sarcasm of his tone alerted Lafarge to tread carefully and he was tempted to order him to put his revolver on the desk but refrained from doing so lest it provoke him further.

  “I suggest you sit down then, and at least we can do this over a drink,” said Lafarge, pouring himself a glass of cognac from a bottle he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk. Levau declined his offer of cognac and nicked another bottle of red wine from out of a colleague’s drawer.

  “Right to keep this as short as possible in order for you hopefully to be able to go back to the Bastille and for me to be reassured, I’m going to ask you straight out about what were your exact relations with the late Monsieur Fayette?”

  Levau shifted in his chair and took a slug of wine.

  “Why do you ask me that?”

  “Never answer a question with a question Levau, it reveals a degree of defensiveness that immediately sets my antennae on red alert,” said Lafarge coldly.

  “So I will ask you to be frank and open. Let’s start again. What were your relations with Fayette?”

  Levau cast a furious glance at Lafarge.

  “Levau this is not doing you any good at all. Silence may be golden but I can assure you in this case it is not,” said Lafarge.

  “Okay I will deal some of the cards I have in order to facilitate your memory returning, which can only be of benefit to you.“

  Lafarge withdrew from his pocket the incriminating photograph and handed it to Levau, gauging his reaction. To his surprise Levau’s face registered nothing.

  “I think you will recognise several of the characters in this image. Not least the person standing at the back of the group raising his glass. Unless you have a twin you neglected to tell me about I would say this person bears an uncanny resemblance to you,” said Lafarge dryly.

  Levau shrugged and flung the photograph back across the desk at Lafarge, narrowly missing his head.

  “So what if it is me? I was in the police if you’d care to remember,” said Levau.

  “Exactly Levau and you still are …. just,” said Lafarge.

  Levau grimaced.

  “I’m not sure what you are inferring Chief Inspector,” said Levau his tone clipped.

  “Well I know all of us in the police force during the Occupation had to make compromises and consorted with dubious characters of little moral fibre. However, unlike you I didn’t earn an affectionate but demeaning nickname of ‘Foi de Veau’ from a gangland boss and major collaborator,” said Lafarge.

  “You saved my life once Levau so I know you are not rotten through and through but I need to know what exactly your relations were with one of our victims and if you have had contact with him since he arrived from Marseille.

  “If you did see him I also need to know whether he tried to blackmail you and if that is the case I am afraid you become a suspect. That is why it is so important you are straight with me Levau. No prevaricating, it won’t do you any good,” said Lafarge.

  Lafarge had played his strongest suit and he hoped it would have the desired impact on Levau.

  “Very well Chief Inspector, you appear as is almost always the case to have left no stone unturned,” said Levau his expression implacable and his tone calm.

  “However, such evidence can be interpreted in other ways. I agree the photograph and the nickname are on the face of it extremely damaging but they can be taken in a different sense too.

  “Yes of course that is me in the photograph. It was taken after an event which I would prefer not to have been part of, the round-up of the Jews in Marseille. I imagine you guessed as much as both Bousquet and Leguay are present,” said Levau his voice a touch lower and shaky.

  Lafarge poured them both another drink, wishing not to distract Levau from his account.

  “You I know did not take an active part in the round-up in Paris ‘Operation Spring Breeze’. Indeed it was as a result of the fallout of your actions that day I saved your life last year. And before I go on I don’t regret doing so.”

  Lafarge felt obliged to once again recognise his partner’s action in shooting dead the gendarme he had arrested on the day of the roundup for shooting dead two little Jewish schoolboys and who had been subsequently released by order of Bousquet. The man Captain Monnet had launched a vicious campaign of revenge after the Liberation which came close to succeeding.

  Lafarge raised his glass to Levau, but remained silent to prompt him to return to the subject in hand.

  “However, Marseille was a different entity entirely. Besides I wasn’t of a high enough rank to be able to object.

  “Thus against all my better judgment and principles I entered the Jewish neighbourhood and watched as thousands of fellow human beings, no different to you or I or Fayette except their religion were beaten and spat at by their former neighbours and shopkeepers, they had known for years, and whipped onto cattle wagons.

  “I felt physically sick but mentally weak and I will regret it for the rest of my life, quite apart from the nightmares I suffer every night. I was not alone in being affected in such a way,” said Levau his sadness and apparent contrition seeming to Lafarge to be sincere.

  Lafarge was sure there were Paris-based policemen who also felt the same way, and there were some from the notorious Brigade Speciales, ostensibly set up by Bousquet to root out resistants, Communists and Jews, who had aided Jews. He even felt guilt despite having been so vociferous in his protests and the arrest of Captain Monnet, but he always wondered could he have done more.

  “So why then are you in the photograph? Surely the last thing you wanted was to be featured in a snapshot of people celebrating such crimes?” asked Lafarge.

  Levau smiled sadly.

  “Well here we come to the nub of the Marseille conundrum and my link with Fayette,” he said.

  “Being in the back of this group indicates not that I was trying to stay out of the limelight but rather a reluctance to have been involved at all and an aversion to being viewed as a willing participant subsequently reveling in the ‘heroic’ round-up of unarmed Jews.

  “I was there because Fayette ordered I be in the photograph. Indeed he wanted me to be beside him at the front.”

  “Why? Because he wanted to show off how close his ties were to the police and act as a warning to his rivals, perhaps fearful Bonny and Lafont would seek to take over the Marseille operations?” asked Lafarge.

  Levau shook his head.

  “Ah Chief Inspector you are always seeking the conspiracy theory as the simplest explanation! No it is far more mundane than that, though, no doubt the answer will set you off on another conspiracy further down the line,” said Levau.

  “Fayette was my godfather.”

  “Jesus Christ!” ejaculated Lafarge.

  Levau smiled sourly.

  “Indeed sir, and believe me I felt that I had been crucified every morning I woke up and looked in the mirror after that day. My godfather furthermore wouldn’t let me forget my part in it. He said it was a badge of courage. I retorted what was courageous
about herding unarmed people, including women, children and sick and frail elderly people, onto cattle trucks.

  “He said I’d gone soft and was not worthy of being his godson, him being the chief of the Marseille underworld. He offered me antiques, paintings and jewels, all stolen of course from the Jews, and I declined.

  “There had been a time when I was growing up that I had looked up to him. Marseille being what it is with that much more of an edge than genteel Paris one had to be rough and tough to survive and he was the man to go to. However, when he descended into open collaboration with the Nazis once they took the city over from Vichy I tried to distance myself.

  “I had helped him out at awkward moments, actions for which I am not proud but he had looked out for me. Thus the nickname ‘Foie de Veau’ at first was meant in the way you interpreted it but it became a sarcastic reference later on.

  “He wouldn’t ease off and when the Nazis started to put the squeeze on his operation, demanding a greater percentage, he asked me to have a word with my contacts in the Gestapo, drop a name or two of their side who were committing criminal acts. I refused, more out of self-preservation than anything else as I was sure the Gestapo would react furiously to my denunciations especially as one of those to be denounced was a lieutenant-colonel in the SS, and demanded a transfer to another city.”

  Lafarge studied Levau’s face and seeing him look straight into his eyes he instinctively knew he was telling the truth.

  Sure he wasn’t clean, he’d been corrupted at the earliest opportunity by his grasping and rotten godfather, but then was there anyone who had served in the police force and in many other professions that were meant to abide by the law and set an example that had emerged pure from the evils of The Occupation.

  The answer to put it bluntly was no. People of course had done good things on the side of the bad things they had been ordered to do every day. Even lawyers such as Gerland who had left Paris in order to live in the ‘Free Zone’ had taken decisions that weren’t morally justified, he for instance had acted as the lawyer for Bonny and Lafont, again a fortuitous circumstance for Lafarge as it had saved his life.

  “So Levau you came here, thankfully for me, and not just because of the Monnet incident, and Fayette followed you. So now we come to perhaps the most crucial point regarding his murder and your potential involvement.

  “Did he contact you and ask for your help?”

  “Yes he did and I refused him,” replied Levau forcefully.

  “That can’t have pleased him very much. Did he try and coerce you into helping him? Did he try and blackmail you?” asked Lafarge staring straight at Levau.

  Levau didn’t flinch.

  “Yes he did. Before you travel into conspiracy land again Chief Inspector I have to disabuse you of that and tell you I turned him down flat. I said to him do what you wish, some of us are prepared to answer for our crimes. He didn’t like that very much either,” said Levau with a mirthless laugh.

  “What sort of help did he want?” asked Lafarge.

  “Oh his requests became more and more desperate and lacking logic, or at least I thought at the time,” said Levau.

  “First of all it was pretty straightforward but totally out of the question. He wanted me to access where we keep the evidence and steal jewels and cash we had seized from the Lafont and Bonny house in the 16th, French Gestapo headquarters.

  “He pleaded with me and said it was his cut he was after. That the loot had been promised to him by Lafont in return for help he had provided for them on a couple of assassinations in Marseille, of former colleagues who had fled there.

  “I declined without a second thought. I came here specifically to turn over a new leaf and told him as such. I gave him a few francs of my own but that was as far as my help went.

  “He kept on trying but I rebuffed him and very soon he was embroiled with his final love affair, with the bottle. That was when he approached me and asked me to join him in one final escapade, a plot to murder an inmate at Fresnes.”

  This time it was Levau who tried to stare down Lafarge. The Chief Inspector didn’t flinch either but inside he was in turmoil, for he cursed Levau for not coming forward and telling him or Pinault. Regardless of the emotional tie with Fayette and perhaps thinking the man had gone off his head through his alcoholism he should have done so.

  “Why the hell didn’t you share this information?” he asked Levau angrily.

  Levau for the first time looked uncomfortable, as indeed he bloody should well do thought Lafarge.

  “I thought it was the ramblings of a desperate alcoholic. How or why should he be involved in such a plot so far from his centre of power? It didn’t make sense,” said Levau rather lamely, his tone lacking conviction.

  “Well it damn well does now Levau! My father is lying in the morgue thanks to at best your lassitude and at worst your connivance in the plot,” said Lafarge.

  “Oh come on Chief Inspector, I didn’t know he was talking about your father! If I had done then of course I would have told you. Besides I felt if anyone deserves to be murdered it is one of those pricks in Fresnes who committed such heinous crimes,” he said.

  However, his defence didn’t carry any weight in Lafarge’s eyes.

  “Ah yes those that commanded the crimes you actively took part in,” said Lafarge viciously.

  Levau was visibly hurt by that accusation.

  “Yes Chief Inspector, I carried out some of those orders, but I’ve already explained that to you,” said Levau, sounding weary all of a sudden, the fighting spirit that he had shown having disappeared as quickly as it had materialised.

  Lafarge could see Levau was coming to the end of his tether. Now he had to use his own judgment whether to report him or to keep quiet and use it as a weapon against him so he could have a more hands on role in the investigation.

  The latter option appealed to him more, for he could see the consequences of reporting Levau to Pinault who would have to take it to Luizet. Not only would Levau be dismissed but also more than likely he would be arrested and in the present climate he could be charged with offences that would result in the death penalty.

  Lafarge had enough on his conscience not to condemn someone, who had saved his life, to death, even if his oversight had resulted in his own father’s murder. He was bitter and angry with Levau over this but on balance he felt he would keep quiet for the moment. That was, however, only if it hadn’t been Levau who killed Fayette.

  “Right Levau, I’m ready to give you the benefit of the doubt provided you answer me honestly regarding the murder of Fayette. Were you responsible for his death?”

  “No, I did not Chief Inspector. I had had enough of him for sure but I did not see him from the moment I declined to be part of his plot. Aside from not believing the drunken sot’s plans I wasn’t going to even assent to be part of a cover up if he called me after the event to prove to me it was true,” said Levau.

  “Like I said Paris was a fresh opportunity for me and of what use would it be for me to spit in the face of that! I apologise profusely for my oversight towards you, and I also should excuse myself for not being clean about my relationship with him after we started investigating his murder.

  “I thought I could make up for my foolishness by solving your father’s murder without letting you know how I could have prevented it.

  “Alas I wasn’t to know that the fool had kept enough of his mind to have secreted the photographs away in his apartment. I was so confident I allowed you to search the bedroom on your own,” he sighed sadly.

  Lafarge had little sympathy with Levau and his self-pity at being found out. That was a tune he heard so often from worse criminals than Levau. For Levau was a criminal in his mind, but there again he also had committed offences that could be termed illegal, despite his belief they had been done in a bout of patriotic fervour, so he could hardly hold that against him.

  Lafarge poured them both another drink from their separate bottles and thought
things over, allowing Levau to feel justifiably nervous about what he was going to decide, for his life let alone his future rested on them.

  “Okay Levau this is what I am going to do. I am going to refrain for the moment from what I should do and report you to Pinault. However, this comes at the price of you letting me have free rein on the investigation, though you will assume responsibility for everything I do regardless of whether you agree or not,” said Lafarge relishing the discomfit of his partner.

  “You of course will also continue with the investigation. I believe you have nothing to do with Fayette’s murder. However, you will clear everything with me as I don’t want to discover any other alarming omissions from your account afterwards, such as if Bousquet was brought up in the conversation of a plot to murder the inmate and you forewarn him I might be down to Fresnes to interrogate him.

  “In the meantime I will be keeping hold of the photograph, and it will be locked up in a very secure place to be opened on my death. I also have a reliable eye witness as to your closeness to Fayette when he was running Marseille so I strongly suggest you ensure nothing untoward happens to me,” added Lafarge, although his reliable eye witness was hardly that given it was Freddy Marchand.

  However, that mattered little to Lafarge and he certainly wasn’t going to reveal who it was to Levau.

  He had Levau on the hook and he wasn’t going to let him off it until they had solved the murder of his father. If Levau behaved then he would be safe, perhaps with an admonishment on his record for he deserved that at the very least, but if he didn’t then Lafarge would gladly feed him to the wolves as he felt they were now even on saving each other’s lives.

  Just that Levau’s was on borrowed time.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lafarge let Levau go on his own to the café at Bastille. He’d had enough of his company for the night and thought a break might do them some good even if it was only going to be for 24 hours.