The Haunted Detective

by Pirate Irwin

  “He refused to and kept to the rubble strewn sidewalk. In fact it was hard to tell where the sidewalk ended and the roadway began because all the buildings that people used to walk into after work or school were shells. Their facades were now lying on the pavement and the road.

  “He was right too. I took some persuasion but finally agreed to join him thinking none of us had much hope but better to die beside a comrade rather than a Schleu. Seconds later the Tiger took a direct hit and all those round it were killed outright or suffered such severe wounds that there was no hope for them, certainly not of escaping.

  “I didn’t realise it at the time but I’d been slightly wounded in the leg. Eventually though it slowed us down. I then got struck by some masonry falling to the ground and that ended our initial escape bid.

  “Thus I hope you can understand Chief Inspector I cannot give you his name. Whatever honour I still possess I am not going to surrender now that I have little time left. I’m sure you as a former POW would recognise such sentiments, you probably did that in your camp keeping silent over a misdemeanour committed by one of your fellow prisoners.”

  “Yes we largely did but then we were dealing with the Nazis, I would take offence if you are implying Commissaire Pinault and I are comparable. We are upholding the law of a democratic country not a dictatorship,” said Lafarge his temper rising.

  Vandamme smiled which made Lafarge feel even madder, for he had deliberately provoked him and succeeded.

  “Very well Vandamme. If you won’t give us his name, can you at least tell us how you were approached and the circumstances of the murder of Chief Inspector Lafarge’s father?” asked Pinault, who stole a look at his watch and raising his eyebrows at the time appeared as if he wished to hurry up and finish the interview.

  Lafarge had no idea what the time was and the grubbiness of the half-moon window didn’t help in clarifying that. He was all for winding it up as he was feeling utterly drained, he hadn’t had a drink all day and his mouth was like sandpaper from non-stop smoking.

  He was not only desperate for a drink and a blast of cold fresh air but also speed over to Junot’s little bolthole and see if there was any paperwork on the Charlemagne, though, he ventured that to be unlikely. He might have to obtain entry to Frenay’s HQ, for if anyone had information on the different groups of people returning it was probably him and his team.

  “Oh and if you could spare us a lot of trouble and at least give us your name that would be very helpful,” said Pinault.

  Vandamme, who like his two Inquisitors was also beginning to look fatigued, stroked his cheek and trailed a finger down his face to his chin.

  “I’m not going to tell you my name, I’m not going to fall into a trap where it leads you to my friend, but I will give you the other information you are asking for,” he said.

  Pinault and Lafarge both nodded to each other, prepared to cut their losses and hope the fingerprint search delivered.

  “I returned with my friend and we met two nights later for dinner. Going underground wasn’t on our minds, we thought we could return to our families and lead a normal life,” said Vandamme.

  “There were very few people still alive who knew of our history and most of them were far away and unlikely to cause us trouble. As for the French who knew, well Darnand is dead and his lieutenants also dead or scattered to the wind.

  “The likes of your father and Laval weren’t interested in us whilst Bousquet is rewriting his own version of events and certainly does not want to admit to knowingly helping and advising us to join the SS.

  “So I’d spent two wonderful evenings with my family, they helped me to begin my road to recovery in reading Baudelaire’s poetry to me and listening to my favourite classical composer, Schubert would you believe!

  “However, my friend said he needed me for a very special task which required me to go underground, but only for a while not forever.

  “He said he wanted me to get a job at Fresnes and murder someone who had been a highly-placed Vichy official. I said was he mad didn’t we support Vichy and he replied it was personal. Getting the job was easy and well I think the rest you pretty much know.

  “I called on Darnand on the eve of his state-sponsored murder and asked him for one last favour. He didn’t ask any questions and the old bull said it would be a pleasure. I took advantage of the furore to sneak into your father’s cell and murder him.

  “It is funny it was almost as if he expected it, he didn’t put up a fight at all,” added Vandamme wistfully.

  Lafarge could believe that, the way his father had been in their last meeting it was almost as if he would welcome a release rather than face a lengthy spell in prison. Still it didn’t excuse Vandamme or the mystery man in murdering him.

  Lafarge breathed in deeply and blew out, smacking his lips as he imagined the image of the tall and wiry Vandamme entering his elderly father’s cell and hitting him hard before slicing open his veins. It sent a shiver up his spine and he could feel tears welling up.

  “Did your friend expand on the personal reason for wanting Colonel Lafarge dead?” asked Pinault, who appeared to have noticed that Lafarge needed a few moments to gather himself.

  Vandamme shot Lafarge a glance before returning his gaze to Pinault.

  “Yes he did. I felt it was a strong enough one for me to risk my life for, after all as I said I owed him twice for my life,” said Vandamme.

  “You paid him back for both Vandamme,” said Pinault.

  Vandamme didn’t appear to understand Pinault’s remark.

  “Well you went after Durand as well. Ok you didn’t succeed but you still left two detectives dead and almost three with Lafarge here. Of course if you murdered Fayette and Neveu then you are more than even,” said Pinault.

  “Ah yes of course. I didn’t murder Fayette, pathetic alcoholic that he was he would have died soon enough anyway. I still find it hard to believe he was the baron of Marseille criminal gangs, doesn’t say a lot for the rest of his breed down there.

  “This guy Neveu I have never heard his name till today, so I’m at a loss as to why I should be linked to him. You’ll have to work harder on that one.

  “Regarding your two detectives well in my defence both of them pulled their guns on me first. I was just a better shot,” said Vandamme.

  Lafarge bit his tongue and didn’t bother to argue the toss with Vandamme, Durand would testify differently in court and that was enough.

  “Let’s cut to the chase Vandamme. The reason for the murders of my father and Neveu and the attempted murder of Durand are the same. It is to do with the execution of a French officer nearly 30 years ago. Am I not correct?” asked Lafarge.

  Vandamme drummed his delicate fingers, they looked as if they belonged to a trained musician not someone used to pulling a trigger, on the table and then did something that completely caught Lafarge by surprise in a session that had held its fair share.

  He got up and bowed. Lafarge didn’t know whether he was mocking him or that it was sincere.

  “Don’t look so shocked Chief Inspector,” said Vandamme a broad smile on his face.

  “You’ve hit the bulls’ eye. Now all you have to do is find the guilty man, just a few hundred thousand suspects to choose from,” added Vandamme.

  Lafarge smiled as well, tossing Vandamme’s still intact glasses onto the table.

  “I hope we get him before you go to the guillotine. You’ve both shared so much in life that it would be a shame to not allow you both to be executed at the same time,” he said icily before exiting the room leaving Pinault to formally charge the prisoner for the murder of his father.

  ***

  “You look drained Gaston,” said Pinault as he poured him a cognac.

  Lafarge managed a tired smile. He couldn’t agree more, he hadn’t gone without a drink for so long in a while, since he’d taken an unwanted leave of absence at Bousquet’s demand in 1942. Joking apart the arduous marathon of a session with Vandamme, or
whoever he really was, had been a trial of his largely unheard of patience and restraint.

  The game playing and teasing hints that Vandamme had employed were usually dealt with more forcefully but in front of Pinault that had been out of the question.

  At least the day hadn’t been a fruitless one, and he could confirm to Antoinette and Lucien they now had for sure the man who executed the order to murder his father, but they had little more to go on as to who had been behind it.

  “I compliment you on your professionalism during the interrogation Gaston. I had doubts that you would be able to keep a cool head given you were sitting across from your father’s murderer, but you did and I am suitably impressed,” said Pinault patting Lafarge on the shoulder.

  “Thank you sir, but has it really taken us forward?” said Lafarge, allowing the first taste of his favoured drink swirl around his mouth so he could enjoy it all the more.

  Pinault, who had taken the other armchair which sat beside the fireplace in his large office, formerly that of Lafarge’s mentor George-Victor Massu who had been falsely accused of collaboration in the immediate aftermath of the liberation and although cleared was a shadow of the man he had been.

  Lafarge had been deeply upset by Massu’s removal and treatment but he accepted that Pinault was a decent man in his own way, and they worked well together.

  Pinault leant his head against the back of the floral-patterned armchair and stretched his legs, mulling over Lafarge’s question and recalling the pertinent points of Vandamme’s testimony.

  “Yes I think we have. I know it is hard to sift through Vandamme’s evidence, what were lies when was he telling the truth and the riddles he seems to enjoy throwing in,” said Pinault.

  “However, we know there is a link for sure between the incident in 1917 and the murder of your father and the others. Congratulations on confirming that connection, sometimes it pays off to be bloody-minded and creative, elements missing from my character.

  “You rather took me by surprise with that, but I accept you didn’t really have the time to run it by me given the circumstances.

  “We need a list of those who joined up to fight for the Nazis. Do you have any ideas as to where one might track that sort of list down? State prosecutors office perhaps?” asked Pinault.

  Lafarge thought that might be a possibility, although he still favoured Frenay’s office.

  “What so they can be kept under wraps, our Siegfried loving brothers?” said Lafarge drily.

  Pinault laughed.

  “Don’t worry Gaston they are only safe for the moment.

  “Once things have calmed down and the unions are subdued, that is to say the Communists have been outwitted by General de Gaulle, and there are not constant shortages of electricity and water and the public transport system actually reflects the title and moves people around than standing still then he will act against those traitors.

  “That is not to say if one was to be arrested he wouldn’t be tried. Everyone wants justice, perhaps better to mete it out with these guys as Leclerc did.”

  Lafarge sucked in his lips and wondered how much of that to believe. He had good reason to be suspicious of Pinault when he cited the political line as compromise was usually in the air.

  He had experienced this when he thought he and Pinault had gone to arrest one of the worst of the businessmen collaborators, and a member of a conspiracy to replace de Gaulle with the inconsequential Duke of Orleans, and ended up watching as an envelope stuffed with cash changed hands because the businessman had allegedly switched sides.

  “No compromises this time then, sir,” said Lafarge.

  Pinault didn’t look happy at all with Lafarge’s remark.

  “I’ll forget you said that Chief Inspector. I think I’ve been pretty clear about the boundaries you can cross with this.

  “As the mastermind is a serial killer, albeit one with a definitive set of victims not a random group of people, I think it would be in the best interests of the country that he is removed from the streets,” said Pinault.

  Lafarge took the ticking off in his stride, pleased to have made his point and to have pricked Pinault’s conscience.

  “I will approach Frenay’s office with regard to the Charlemagne Division, see if they have any records on the men who volunteered,” said Lafarge.

  “Could you or Prefect Luizet pull some strings to get me access?” asked Lafarge, who’d heard Frenay was extremely protective of his ministry and wouldn’t appreciate a Chief Inspector turning up to make enquiries.

  Lafarge guessed that if Gerland’s information had been correct and Frenay was under pressure from de Gaulle and his circle then Pinault and Luizet would only be too happy to facilitate such a meeting.

  “I’ll talk with Prefect Luizet, on my part I think it is an excellent idea, and hopefully we can have you in there tomorrow,” said Pinault.

  “As you said it would be awful to let Vandamme go to the guillotine alone and without his brother-in-arms.”

  Lafarge grinned and helped himself to a second glass of cognac.

  “What was the name of the mutineer who has stirred up all this trouble so many years later,” asked Pinault as Lafarge returned to his chair.

  “De Granville,” replied Lafarge before explaining the complex emotional backdrop to the lieutenant’s case.

  “Do we know if the father is still alive, and what became of the lieutenant’s siblings, his widow and son?” asked Pinault.

  Lafarge replied that he didn’t know whether the father was still alive, he estimated he would be late 60’s to early 70’s, and siblings he didn’t think he had any.

  With regard to the widow and son, he would have to check, but he imagined the father’s guilt and his promise to look after them that they hadn’t been short of a franc or two and would have been ignorant of the shameful role he played in the execution.

  “It appears to me that Monsieur de Granville has much more than his son’s blood on his hands, unintentional maybe but still he is to blame for setting this train of events in motion,” said Pinault gravely.

  Lafarge hadn’t really thought of it this way, he’d been too focused for obvious reasons on catching the people who had murdered his father. However, there was a grain of truth in Pinault’s observation.

  “Do you want me to charge him as well?” asked Lafarge.

  Pinault laughed.

  “Not a bad idea, but I think legally impossible. Let’s find out if he is still alive first, then we can decide whether we make his life more uncomfortable,” said Pinault.

  “He may at least be able to point us towards a possible lead as to who would want to avenge the execution of his son.”

  Lafarge nodded and having downed his cognac he rose to leave, as he wanted to get home and see how Aimee was.

  He’d asked Madame Grondon to keep an eye out and to pop her head round the door but he thought it best he spend a whole evening with her, ensure she ate properly and all the care and attention a good friend, not a boyfriend he insisted to himself, would address to one in need.

  “Gaston, if you don’t mind me saying so one thing I have concluded from our talk with Vandamme is this fellow who saved his life twice, I have to grudgingly admit heroic actions despite coming in the wrong uniform, sounds to me as if he spent time with you,” said Pinault.

  “He knew you had both been in uniform and that you had been a POW. Now that sort of information he could have come by through contacts at the Ministry of Defence or perhaps Frenay’s office.

  “It would be only natural that your adversary, who is clearly an intelligent and cunning man, would wish to know the background of the detective who was leading the investigation.

  “However, don’t rule out that someone you crossed paths with in the Army or in the camp subsequently fought for the Charlemagne Division.

  “The camps must have been a rich recruiting ground for the Nazis, especially as their needs for soldiers grew with the losses they suffered on the
Eastern Front.”

  Lafarge thanked him bid him farewell and shut the door behind him.

  He had had the same thought, which made him feel uncomfortable and insecure and this sentiment was exacerbated as he left the Quai, pulling up the collar of his overcoat round his chin, as he had decided to walk home, and getting the distinct feeling he was being followed.

  It was dark and there were few people on the streets, the chill in the air promised another desperately cold winter and although there was more fuel available a lot of the coal lay undelivered as it was still at the mines in the north of France another victim of the strikes.

  Adding to the sombre atmosphere of the walk home was that the lamp lights were dull, the bulbs not having been replaced and those that were still lit by human hand also shone no light as the people responsible for lighting them were on strike as well.

  Sometimes Lafarge wished the de Gaulle administration were as firm about strikes as the Nazis had been, that was not to allow them at all.

  However, such thoughts he wisely kept to himself especially from the likes of Madame Grondon, whose son had been sent to work in Germany, her brother a long standing communist and union activist had been executed for sabotaging the train he drove, and another brother had fled south to fight for the maquis.

  As of now he had yet to give a sign of life and like the Rosenbergs the longer the silence dragged on the less likely there was to be a happy ending.

  Well there would be a happy solution for Lafarge as he would stay on in their flat. He was extremely reluctant ever to return to his own apartment after what had occurred there.

  He hadn’t imparted this to Aimee, he would do if she asked him a direct question about why he had moved apartment but he had held off because she was recovering from her horrific experiences at Fresnes and then Ravensbruck and she didn’t need to have his suffering imposed on her.