‘Here he is.’
Nico’s voice: ‘Jeanne-Marie.’
‘Hi, Nico. Adée said you’d get a message to Monsieur le Professeur for me. Very urgently?’
‘OK. How did it go at Rue Lauriston?’
‘The birds had flown. But we know where, and there’s reason to believe they’ve got the girl with them. Well, here there’s only me and the SD officer you met and a young lady who lives here – at the address I gave you, Rue de Passy. Nico, they’ve gone to a farm which is owned by Lafont, near a village called Bazoches, seventy kilometres east of here. We have a map with the farm marked on it, and a car – the Citroen you saw – and as it happens a gazo too, if we needed it. But one man and two women – against maybe half-a-dozen Bonny-Lafonts—’
‘If I may say so, you’d be crazy to go near them.’
‘I’m wondering whether Martin might persuade that gendarme who was a soldier to take an interest in it. Maybe bring a squad of his own people with him. I know they must have their hands full, but with a good chance of arresting Henri Lafont – and Bonny, by the way, and some others – they’d be keen, don’t you think?’
‘I’d guess so. Don’t know, but—’
‘So tell Martin all this, ask him can he set it up – and to call me here?’
‘Give me the number.’
She did that. Adding, ‘They’ll need their own transport, obviously. However many of them, and room for prisoners I suppose. But get to him at once, Nico? They won’t be hanging around that place for ever, and – if the girl is with them—’
‘I’ll ask Monsieur Leblanc to ring you as soon as he can, and I’ll come out either with them or on my bike ahead of them. I’ve got your stuff here.’
‘Bless you, Nico!’
She hung up, found Clausen and Jacqui watching and listening. And not quarrelling – not at this moment. She told them, ‘I think they will come. Only hope to God they’re quick about it. If we can get there really fast – not find just another empty—’
‘Tell me about them.’ Clausen, frowning. ‘Martin – and some gendarmes, an ex-soldier and the boy Nico—’
‘Nico you already met. May come ahead on his bike – bringing my things, remember I asked him? Or he may come with the others. Martin is a schoolmaster who used to teach him. Nice man. Whether he’ll come himself I don’t know. Or the others for that matter, one can’t be absolutely certain.’
‘Résistants, obviously.’
‘Gendarmes. One as you say a former soldier. You don’t have to know more than that about them, do you?’
‘Not if they don’t have to know who I am.’
‘Well, they will. It’ll seem to them a very peculiar business, having you in on it. In fact – Gerhardt, you don’t have to come at all. Except for the car – they won’t have room for all of us, and that gazo’d be too slow. Could you say the Citroen had been pinched from you – hi-jacked by résistants – get yourself to the Continental or wherever in the gazo?’
Jacqui said, ‘I’m going with you, Jeanne-Marie.’
Clausen spread his hands: ‘Then so am I.’
‘In case I run off with Lafont?’
‘Don’t be silly, Jacqui.’
‘No. All right. Not the time for it, is it? I know, I’m sorry. Perhaps you’ll kill Lafont. I hope you will.’ She went to him, wrapped her arms round his neck. ‘Sorry, my darling. And I forgive you for being silly earlier.’
* * *
Jacqui heated a tin of ravioli to keep Rosie going until lunch, which would feature a chicken casserole that was already simmering. The rest of the cold pork she was proposing to use for sandwiches which they’d take with them in the car.
Rosie had almost finished eating when the ’phone rang. Clausen answered it, said flatly, ‘Please wait’, and offered the receiver to Rosie: ‘Leblanc.’
As she’d been hoping it might be. She grabbed it. ‘Martin?’
‘Jeanne-Marie. Let me say first how delighted I was to hear from Nico—’
‘Yes. Thank you… But the rest of it – about Lafont?’
‘I’ve spoken with Fernagut and the answer is very much yes. He’s collecting a team and a truck and he’ll telephone you when he’s setting off so you can be waiting in your SD’s Citroen – save time, set off as soon as he joins you. You know the way, I understand, so you lead him. It’ll probably be a Wehrmacht truck.’
‘You coming with them?’
‘No. I have things here I can’t leave. In any case I’d be no use to you. But listen, Fernagut makes the condition that the prisoners will be his own – no question of SD interference. He doesn’t like having your German along – but I explained about the car, that you had your own problems and this was the solution. So you take the girl they’re holding – if she’s alive, eh? – and he takes the Bonny-Lafonts, they’re gendarmerie prisoners entirely. Agreed?’
‘As far as I’m concerned, he can hang them. How long before he gets here?’
‘A few hours. There’s a lot going on, and he has to make various arrangements. Oh, but Nico is on his way to you now, with the things you wanted. You won’t want him to go with you, will you?’
‘Not – especially—’
‘And I have work for him here – plenty. So—’
‘We’ll give him a meal and send him back.’
‘That would be fine. And in due course you’ll hear from Fernagut.’
‘Yes. Thank you very much, Martin. I’m so sorry about Georges and the others.’
‘The Bonny-Lafonts will pay for it. Thanks to you, and with a bit of luck now. I may say that Gabriel Fernagut is delighted to have the chance of this. There’s been no love lost in that quarter, and it’ll be a great coup for him professionally.’
‘Hope he comes soon, that’s all.’
‘He’s aware of the urgency. But – at this of all times, huh? Incidentally, his arrangements include having gendarmerie come up to Bazoches from Provins – which is only twenty kilometres to the south.’
‘I hope they won’t just go charging in!’
‘He’s asking them to set up road-blocks. So unless Lafont’s moved on already – in which case too bad, we’ve lost him – well, they won’t get far. I must go now, Jeanne-Marie. Good luck with the girl.’
‘I’ll be in touch later through Adée.’
‘Fine.’
He’d hung up. She did the same and went back to finish her ravioli. Telling them, ‘It’s all set – or will be. Nico’s on his way, the others will be “a few hours”, he says. Their leader, name of Gabriel Fernagut – gendarme I mentioned, the ex-soldier – will telephone when he’s setting off so we can be ready downstairs. All right?’
Clausen was frowning. ‘A few hours?’
‘Fernagut’s getting gendarmerie from some nearby place – Provins – to set up road-blocks, or a road-block. So with any luck—’
‘At Bazoches, road-blocks?’
‘I suppose so. Only pray the Bonny-Lafonts don’t get to know it’s happening.’
A nod. ‘Could be dangerous for your Yvette.’
‘Exactly. Exactly.’ She put down her fork, mopped the plate with bread. When in Rome… ‘That was marvellous. When’s lunch?’
They all laughed. Jacqui said, ‘Well, three days, and every twelve hours a mug of – soup?’
‘Slop. Pig-swill. Anyway I feel much, much better now.’
Clausen said, ‘With lunch we’ll have a bottle of the Riesling that you liked.’ To Jacqui then: ‘Did I tell you that in the cellar at 93 Lauriston he’d had them smash all those great vintage Burgundies and Bordeaux?’
‘He’s mad, obviously.’
‘Yes. But now I’ll have a bath. Even if the water’s cold. Tell me though, Jeanne-Marie. You don’t have to, of course, it’s just that I’m – intrigued, a little. We were saying on the way here, you’re as concerned for this Yvette di Mellili as I am for Jacqui. So – is it as you might say a personal concern – as mine is, obviously – or do you still see a
danger of her revealing vital military information?’
‘I doubt she’d have much to reveal. As I said, it’s more that I simply want to save her life. For one thing it’s what I was sent here for, and another – she was kind to me in Nancy, and I liked her. Rouquet too. All right – part of their job and perfectly natural – fellow agents, all that…’ She was addressing Jacqui mostly, wanting her to understand and see it her way. Clausen was still the cold-faced SD hatchet-man who in his time had sent people like herself and Yvette to unpleasant deaths, only happened at this stage to be pursuing what he saw as his own interests. She finished – to Jacqui – ‘And having been there oneself – more or less – makes us – well, sisters, you might say.’
Clausen had listened attentively to that, and looked relieved – that he wouldn’t be helping to deprive the Reich of a source of valuable intelligence, she guessed. He was on his feet now, with a hand on Jacqui’s shoulder. ‘Off to the tub. Then perhaps a nap. Don’t want to lunch too early, do we? Nap, then lunch?’
‘Maybe.’ Small, private smile at Rosie. ‘Didn’t get much last night, did we? Jeanne-Marie, the spare room – that door there – perfectly good bed in it, mattress that doesn’t smell—’
‘What luxury! But I’ll wait to let Nico in.’ She moved her left arm as if to check the time, then remembered – not for the first time – that she had no watch. ‘Damn…’ Shaking her head: Jacqui with an eyebrow raised. Rosie explained, ‘No timepiece. Gestapo woman stole it, in that hell-hole.’
Clausen had stopped in the doorway, looking back at her. At Jacqui then, who nodded. ‘I’ve a spare you can have, Jeanne-Marie. Chéri, in the dressing-table, top right-hand drawer.’
‘That one?’
‘Yes. Please.’
‘Very well…’
‘What are you up to?’
‘Giving you a present. I want to, don’t you dare refuse it!’ Clausen came back with the watch: Jacqui took it from him, told Rosie, ‘Left wrist, please, and shut your eyes.’
Gold. By Vacheron – Genève.
‘I couldn’t possibly accept this!’
‘I don’t like it much. Certain – associations I don’t like. Please, take it?’
‘It’s a fact she never wears it.’ Clausen turned away. ‘Excuse me.’
‘If you don’t like it, Jacqui, why not sell it?’
‘How could I sell it, when it’s yours? Look, I’d be very hurt if—’
‘Compromise, I’ll wear it until we get to London, and you can sell it there. Meanwhile, thank you very much.’
* * *
‘I was thinking, Jacqui – no need for you to come to Bazoches. Not Gerhardt either. I could drive his Citroen – we need something reasonably fast – if he’d allow that?’
‘I don’t think he would.’
‘But then you could stay here together, he wouldn’t have to consort with résistants – which might be tricky for him—’
‘I might be some help with your Yvette, don’t you think?’
‘I’d manage.’ She added quickly, ‘If she’s there, even—’
‘Don’t go on with that. Tell yourself she is there, alive and—’
‘She won’t be – undamaged.’
‘There you are, then. The more reason I should go with you. If it was just you alone, if she’s hurt, and you had the driving—’
‘I might borrow Nico. I could ring back to the man who called, or Nico could when he gets here—’
‘How much use would he be, though? You’re right, she might have been hurt in all sorts of ways.’ Jacqui shook her dark head. ‘Leave it as it is. I’ll come. I’m happy to. So Gerhardt will come too: no problems with the car, and for Yvette – you and me, between us – much easier. Also, I’ll be there to navigate. Map-read, all that.’
‘Hardly essential. Looking after Yvette – yes, maybe, but—’ a gesture towards the folded map. ‘I’ve got it in my head already – via Porte Vincennes or Porte Dorée – then Joinville – and straight on. At Fontenay-Trésigny we’re more than half-way. Map-read if you want to – only need a torch, but—’
‘At Bazoches then, which way?’
‘Well – the famous pencil cross!’
‘That marks Bazoches. Out of which, although it’s only a small village, there are several ways one can go.’ She’d dropped her voice: Clausen was in either the bedroom or the bathroom, might conceivably be hearing this. ‘And a place like that, you stop to ask someone where is the farm of Monsieur Lafont, the best you’d get is “the farm of Monsieur who?”’
Mouth open, eyes rolling, dim-witted peasant look: Rosie laughed. ‘Surely locals know when a farm’s been sold?’
‘There’d have been no name on it. Pierre Bonny does all the paperwork for him anyway. Some peasant would have been handed a wad of money and told to shove off, that’s all.’
‘But you could find it, you’re saying?’
‘I think so.’ Eyes wide, thinking about it. A nod. ‘Yes, I could.’ Slight frown at Rosie’s probing look. ‘What’s the matter? He gave me a very detailed description, that’s all – so I could meet him there. Of which, as I have already found it necessary to assure my darling Gerhardt, I had not the smallest intention.’
‘Would you have been driving there yourself then? Not driven by him?’
‘I suppose…’
‘Using what car? Gerhardt’s? Property of the SD?’
‘Look – I have no idea. I wasn’t going to do anything about it, anyway. No, of course not his car!’
Watching her: and just about damn well knowing… Hardly believing her own conjecture – observation – but recalling recent doubts about leopards changing or not changing spots; and as near as dammit certain this one hadn’t.
‘I take your word for it, of course.’
‘How very kind!’
‘But how will you handle the so-called navigation without at least re-arousing suspicions?’
A shrug. ‘It was as I told you. He was speaking very excitedly about this place. See, you turn left here, then after this little crossing, just about here – and oh, it’s so beautiful… when a man’s enthusing to that extent, it’s rude not to pay attention, Jeanne-Marie!’
‘Where did you learn that? Charm school? La Chatte’s college of higher education?’
‘Now look here—’
‘No, Jacqui. I’m amazed you’d even let him in here!’
‘In here?’
‘He’d been here when I met him downstairs, hadn’t he?’
‘Oh – that time. Yes. Only for a moment. He was hoping Gerhardt might be home.’
‘No, he wasn’t. No car down there, he’d have known he wasn’t. If there had been he wouldn’t have come up, would he? Certainly wasn’t the time he marked the map for you either. Really, Jacqui – Lafont! Of all the poisonous—’
‘You’re jumping to conclusions and you’re entirely wrong. And if you let him hear any of it – well, my God…’ She leaned closer, whispered, ‘Aren’t you ignoring something quite important? If I’d kept quiet – uh? Give me credit for not playing safe and keeping it to myself – which I could have, you know?’
‘Yes, that—’
‘Isn’t it what matters most to you? Anyway, leave it now. Please?’ Sounds of Clausen’s emergence from the bathroom. ‘Tell me’ – back up to a normal tone of voice – ‘this girl’s name, di Mellili – of Italian origin, is she?’
‘Her father might have been. She was born in Belgium – mother French, father I’m not certain, but he left them and skipped to Venezuela. Mother and daughter then moved to London.’
‘Pretty, is she?’
‘Yes. Neat little figure, good features, lovely eyes, hair rather like yours—’
‘Her bad luck, maybe. In her present company.’ Getting up, calling back to Clausen, ‘Coming.’ Adding to Rosie, ‘That was a stupid thing I said. I’m sorry. In any case I’ll help any way I can.’
* * *
Nico arrived soon after midday.
He’d left his bike chained up down below, had Rosie’s bag – formerly Léonie’s – slung over one shoulder, and was carrying her small battered suitcase. Eyeing Jacqui’s bright towelling gown as he came into the hall and Rosie shut the door and bolted it, then kissed him on both stubbly, slightly spotty cheeks.
‘Thank you for all you’ve done for me, Nico.’
‘Nothing. Your pistol’s still in here.’
‘Lucky to get away with that, wasn’t I? At the Dog, I mean. How’s it going, down-town?’
‘A lot of casualties on both sides. Every day. They’re burying Catholics at Notre-Dame des Victoires, Protestants at l’Oratoire. At Notre-Dame they say the daily average is thirty to forty – but many more than that are wounded, of course. Anyway’ – following her through – ‘Captain Fernagut’ll be here later—’
‘Captain?’
‘What M’sieur Leblanc is calling him. I think he likes it. He’ll have eight men, he says, in a Wehrmacht truck with “FFI” on it in white paint. I was to tell you this so you’ll know it when you see it.’
‘Right.’ Clausen wasn’t going to be ecstatic about that, she thought. ‘Sit down, Nico?’
‘Well, for a moment. Maybe a glass of water?’
‘Of course. We’re expecting you to stay for lunch, incidentally. A casserole of chicken. You’ll stay for that, I hope?’
‘Is the Boche major here?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘I think I won’t stay. All right for you, you know what you’re doing, but—’
‘I like that!’
An armband, one of those Leblanc had shown her, on the rolled-up sleeve of his collarless grey shirt. Vivre Libre ou Mourir. He touched it, smiling. ‘The best choice is Vivre Libre, I think.’
‘Definitely. Make sure that’s what you do. I’ll get your water. How about coffee though?’
‘No, thank you. Just water.’ He told her when she brought it, ‘M’sieur Leblanc sends his best wishes for a happy outcome. But he does want me back there – to carry messages, run errands—’
Single to Paris Page 30