The Lavender Keeper

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The Lavender Keeper Page 29

by Fiona McIntosh


  ‘In connection with the company you keep.’

  Kilian could hear the slyness in his tone. He despised the man. ‘Spell it out, man. I don’t have time for dancing around the daisies.’

  He could all but see the man’s smile across the phone line. ‘Her name is Lisette Forestier.’

  Kilian opened his mouth but no words came out.

  ‘I’ll take your silence to mean you know precisely to whom I refer. After a chat with Herr Eichel I learnt you’d been socialising with her.’

  Kilian took a breath to steady his voice. ‘I barely know her.’

  ‘Precisely. Therein lies the danger, Colonel,’ von Schleigel replied snidely.

  ‘Herr von Schleigel, if you have something to tell me about Mademoiselle Forestier, I’d be grateful if you would do so. I have a meeting to attend.’

  ‘There is nothing specific, Colonel. This is simply a friendly call from one loyal German to another. I ran across Mademoiselle Forestier in November last year and had no reason to hold her … but she keeps odd company down south.’

  ‘You arrested her?’

  ‘No, not really,’ the Gestapo officer replied lazily. ‘I think “detained briefly” might be a more accurate description.’

  ‘Who was she with?’

  ‘A man by the name of Lukas Ravensburg. Ever heard of him?’

  ‘Should I have?’

  ‘Not necessarily. But if you do, I would recommend you keep an eye on him.’

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘Her fiancé,’ von Schleigel said, and made a tutting sound while surprise shot through Kilian like a bullet parting flesh. ‘You did know she is engaged?’

  Kilian closed his eyes, and the pencil in his hand snapped. ‘Why should that interest me?’ he asked evenly in spite of himself.

  ‘I mention it simply in passing, Colonel.’

  ‘Why did you detain Mademoiselle Forestier and her fiancé?’

  ‘Ravensburg matched the description of a man whom we believe is a dangerous maquisard.’

  ‘So you are not watching her?’

  ‘Not formally.’

  ‘And informally?’

  ‘It is out of my jurisdiction now, Colonel. I leave Paris tomorrow for a break in Switzerland before I head to Krakow.’

  ‘Enjoy your holiday, Herr von Schleigel,’ Kilian said, doing his best to give nothing away in his voice.

  ‘And should I run into Frau Vogel, I’m sure you’d like me to give her your best.’

  Kilian felt as though his blood had turned to ice. He reached to his breast pocket and felt the reassuring crinkle of the envelope he hadn’t yet posted.

  ‘I don’t know why you’d be interested in an old flame of mine.’

  ‘Oh, we’re interested in everyone’s connections, Colonel.’

  So, Gestapo knew who his friends were. But he suspected von Schleigel was needling him, letting him know that he could be put under observation in a blink. Kilian wouldn’t post the letter yet.

  ‘I haven’t seen Ilse in nearly six years, but do give her my regards,’ he said, summoning all his courtesy.

  ‘Indeed I will. Good day to you, Colonel. Heil Hitler.’

  Kilian refused to say it. He put the receiver back in its cradle, cutting the connection, but the taint of von Schleigel’s innuendo lingered.

  It had to be nearly midday, Luc realised, when he and Lisette awoke. They lay in silence a while before he finally spoke.

  ‘I don’t want to let you go,’ he admitted.

  ‘Do you have to leave already?’ Lisette whispered, stroking his shoulder. ‘I rather like waking up in a tangle of you.’

  He smiled. ‘I wish I could stay, but it’s dangerous for both of us. And I have a shift to keep. But next time I come back here, I need you packed and ready to leave.’

  She sighed. She’d anticipated something along these lines: why else had he made himself known?

  ‘How did you come to be Kilian’s driver?’

  ‘I’m a loyal but injured German, helping the Reich any way I can. My name as far as any of his staff are concerned is Christian Loewe.’

  ‘I won’t even ask how you managed to get that close to him, but what did you hope to achieve?’

  ‘Listen, Lisette,’ he said gently, turning to face her. ‘Until now it’s been all about watching over you, just making sure you’re safe.’ He shook his head. ‘But London’s mission for you is no longer relevant. Kilian no longer matters in the scheme of things.’

  She stared at him. ‘You’re just—’

  ‘Jealous?’

  ‘I was going to say upset with me.’

  ‘I’m not explaining this properly,’ he said, shifting to swing his legs out of the bed. ‘You’ve been so isolated that you aren’t up to date. We’ve all received new plans. Every resource is going into the invasion in the north.’

  She shrugged. ‘That’s been promised for years.’

  ‘Well, it’s happening. Every Resistance fighter in the country is readying for D-day. Spying on people like Kilian is no longer necessary.’

  ‘I take my orders from London.’

  She could see him forcing himself to keep his voice even. ‘There are nearly a million Americans readying across the Channel. Your missives from Paris about a single man are now pointless.’

  She turned away, feeling angry. ‘Luc, you can keep saying it, but until I’m given orders to the contrary, I have my mission.’

  He stood to dress. ‘Everything has changed now. Nothing you send London is going to alter the fact that the big push to crush German defences will occur in the next few weeks. The messages have been clogging the radiowaves,’ he said, pulling on his trousers and doing up the buttons. ‘The Allies are mobilising all of us.’ He sat down on the bed and took her by the shoulders. ‘But you could be caught in the crossfire. Heads will roll. If Kilian discovers your treachery, there’s no saying what might happen. I will die before I let you be placed into the hands of the Gestapo.’ He gave a lopsided grin. ‘Do you want that on your conscience?’

  ‘He will not hand me over to the Gestapo.’

  Luc frowned. ‘Don’t be naive. Do you think he’d put you before his duty, before his country?’ He searched her face with astonishment. ‘You do, don’t you?’

  Lisette twisted free. ‘I don’t know what to think,’ she groaned. ‘I don’t even understand why you’re here.’

  ‘I’m here to get you out,’ he said earnestly.

  ‘I’m trying to understand how you knew about my mission,’ she suddenly demanded.

  Both their faces showed the strain of talking in such low voices, fearful of being overheard.

  ‘It didn’t take a genius to work out that you were marking someone in particular. There were other clues too, like the fact you didn’t bring a wireless. But it finally came together when I spoke to the head of your circuit; he trusted me, and told me you had once mentioned Kilian in more than passing. I knew immediately that Kilian had to be your mark. I spent weeks angling to get myself hired as a driver in the team that serviced his section. They’re struggling to find Germans with good French – frankly, they’re struggling to find any men.’ He was aware of her hard stare, and ignored it. ‘And there’s another reason to get you away: if I can work out your mission, so can your enemies.’

  ‘Do you honestly think that on your word I’m going to desert this mission?’

  ‘Yes, I do. And it’s not on my word. It’s on Churchill’s and de Gaulle’s. Your life is in jeopardy.’

  ‘And you think I don’t know that?’

  ‘You’re missing the point. Please trust me when I say that the entire Allied focus is now on Pas de Calais. We have to slow up the German lines of communication to buy time for the final preparations. Every telephone line we can cut we will, every rail transport we can will be disrupted or even stopped, every movement of soldiers will be hampered at every turn, all weapons and ammunition stores will be destroyed as best we can. Rail, road, ships, air … you
name it, our people up and down the country are going to put their lives on the line to destroy the routes north. There’s a whole operation in motion just to ensure that the Germans have to use radio, not telephone, so your people can listen in. This is it! Believe me, Lisette, absolutely nothing you do as Colonel Kilian’s lover can help; Kilian is not involved in the chain of command.’

  He could see the anger flash again in her eyes.

  ‘And what if he’s part of a plot that aims to bring down the German administration from within?’

  Luc hadn’t expected that. ‘What?’

  She ran a hand through her black hair, distracted. ‘Something big could be going on between Kilian and Stülpnagel.’

  Luc looked at her quizzically while she told him everything she knew. He listened but wasn’t convinced. ‘Are you sure you’re not just painting him in a sympathetic way?’

  ‘Very sure. And I don’t think every German national who walks this earth should be tarred with the same brush as Hitler. I have German blood too – does that make me guilty? You have German parentage, Luc – are you part of the atrocities? What about that beaten up old man in l’Isle sur la Sorgue? He didn’t look like he sympathised too much with the Nazi regime.’

  He sagged, as if punched.

  It had been cruel to say it, but Lisette couldn’t stop herself now. ‘And I am not one of your fellow Maquis to do as you say,’ she finished.

  He was not to be deterred. ‘There is time to get away, and no one need be hurt. We can—’

  ‘Luc, I appreciate your loyalty.’

  ‘My loyalty?’ he repeated, sounding injured.

  ‘But I have to find out what’s going on between Kilian and Stülpnagel. I’m not going to just do as you ask. I must follow my orders – and my own heart.’

  He stared at her for a moment with deep sorrow. ‘Well, pity me for following mine.’

  She looked at him, bewildered, as he dragged on his shirt and jacket, but when she finally reached for him, he was already walking out of her door. He leapt down the stairs, two and three at a time, angrily ignoring her calls from above.

  Lisette took the Métro to the bank and within an hour was behind her desk. Even though it was nearly two p.m., she was happy to get out of the apartment; she’d be busy enough at work so that neither Luc nor Markus could invade her thoughts. She couldn’t explain her attraction to Luc in the same way that she couldn’t explain her angry opposition to him. They could make such tender love and a few minutes later be at loggerheads. And now she was without him once again, left with that bereft, hollow sense of loss. Her mind reeled with the knowledge that Luc had watched her with Markus. How hard would that have been for him? She couldn’t juggle them both if her mission was to succeed.

  Lisette opened a note that had been left by Walter, asking her to come to his office as soon as she arrived. She headed to the director’s office immediately.

  Walter stood when she arrived and surprised her by coming around his grand desk. She thought he was coming to kiss her but he reached for his hat and coat, and threw a scarf around his neck.

  ‘I’d been told you were unwell.’

  ‘I felt better as the day wore on.’

  He forced a smile. ‘That’s good. I’m glad you’re in. I thought we might go out for a coffee.’

  Walter was stiff, awkward. And he would never suggest going out when his PA could serve him the best of any drink he felt like.

  ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘Fetch your coat, Lisette. I’ll see you in the lobby in a couple of minutes.’

  He shooed her out of the office and Lisette had no choice but to do as she’d been asked.

  Outside he pointed down the road. ‘There’s a café here called Trois Moineaux.’ Then he shifted to German. ‘Three sparrows. Where do they get these names?’

  Spring had definitely arrived, but the walls she had carefully built through the long Parisian winter were crumbling, threatening to choke her. By the time they were seated, the tension had escalated. Walter was past seventy – Lisette was sure he would far prefer to sit inside but he’d insisted on the terrace. He all but dismissed the waiter with a snapped request in German for two coffees.

  ‘Are you upset with me for calling in sick?’

  He glared at her and she shrank. ‘An officer from the Gestapo paid me a visit yesterday.’

  Alarm bells began to shrill. ‘Oh? Why?’

  ‘To talk about you,’ he said.

  ‘Me?’ Her surprise was genuine.

  ‘Yes, a detestable fellow by the name of von Schleigel. Ah, I see his name is meaningful to you. Do you mind telling me why, Lisette?’

  ‘What did he want?’

  ‘You don’t deny you know him. I didn’t think he’d have any reason to lie, even though I found it difficult to come to terms with mentioning you in the same breath as the secret police.’

  He discreetly held up a finger for her to remain quiet while the waiter placed their coffees on the table.

  ‘What did he say, Walter?’ she asked firmly, then reined in her tone. ‘Forgive me, but the man’s loathsome politeness is just a front for his cunning.’

  ‘What were you doing in l’Isle sur la Sorgue when you told me you’d come from Lyon?’

  She made sure she looked both angry and wounded. ‘I also told you that I’d travelled into Provence.’

  ‘Marseille, you said.’

  Lisette gave a sigh of exasperation. ‘All the southern trains route through Lyon. Why do I feel like you’re accusing me of something?’

  ‘Should I be?’

  She refused to answer. Her chicory coffee was strong and bitter, suiting her mood. She glared out into the street.

  They sat in uncomfortable silence for a few more moments. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about Lukas Ravensburg?’

  Her insides felt as though they’d flipped a somersault. There was no point in lying if he knew the name. ‘Walter, you’ve been very kind, very generous to me since I arrived, and I remain grateful for your support. But you never asked me much about my life, and I took it to mean that you didn’t want to know.’ She shook her head as he opened his mouth to interrupt. ‘I wasn’t offended at all. Why should you care about the personal details of an employee? I know that you are admired and respected by the French as much as the Germans. I’m sure you walk a fine line sometimes between the two – I understand your need to protect your position.’

  ‘To protect the bank,’ he corrected, eyeing her angrily.

  ‘Do you think I would jeopardise it?’

  ‘You tell me.’

  The truth could and would hurt him. And by now he most likely did suspect her of having ulterior motives for returning to France. ‘Listen … Walter. Lukas Ravensburg is a friend of mine.’

  ‘Friend?’

  She gave an embarrassed nod. ‘More than a friend.’

  ‘Your lover?’

  ‘I wouldn’t call him that.’

  ‘Really? Von Schleigel tells me this Ravensburg fellow is your fiancé!’

  ‘He’s not. He’s German. Has lived in France. Both parents dead. His father was a war hero.’ She hoped all of this would appeal to Walter, and as he finally began to sip from his cooling coffee, she could see he was calmer. ‘We had mutual friends in France, became sort of penpals, and decided to meet when I headed into Provence. He’s from the south. I do like him very much, but as you can imagine, these are not times to be getting involved. We had a few days together … just friends, just fun.’

  ‘Are you in love with him?’

  She smiled sadly. ‘There was no time to fall in love. I had to get to Paris.’

  ‘How does von Schleigel fit in?’

  ‘An unlucky ID check. Lukas was seeing me off on a train platform after a day’s sightseeing in Gordes. We had a very unhappy day, actually – two maquisards had been executed publicly while we were there.’ Lisette’s eyes watered conveniently. ‘It was horrible, Walter. They shot two men just a few yards from m
e, one in the head. I’ll never be able to erase that ghastly image from my mind.’

  Walter covered her hand with his, his voice sounding genuinely concerned. ‘I’m sorry, Lisette.’

  ‘We couldn’t wait to get away. Lukas put me on the train to Lyon and suddenly von Schleigel appeared out of nowhere, checking our papers before making accusations and arresting us.’

  ‘He prefers to say “detained”.’

  ‘Whatever he calls it, we felt like prisoners. He interrogated Lukas. I was in another room, so I can’t tell you much more. I gather von Schleigel mistook Lukas for a resister. The Gestapo had nothing on Lukas – nothing. It was a case of mistaken identity.’

  ‘How did von Schleigel get my name?’

  Lisette looked contrite. ‘I am sorry about that. I did have to use your name to get us out of there.’

  ‘It worked, I gather.’

  She nodded. ‘Like magic. I had to do something.’

  ‘And where is Ravensburg now?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said, holding his gaze and her nerve. ‘We said farewell in Gordes. It was under difficult circumstances, as you can imagine. We were both a bit shocked. He knew where I’d be working.’

  ‘And you haven’t heard from him?’

  ‘No. What did von Schleigel want?’

  ‘I’m not quite sure. Perhaps he was concerned that you might have said something to me, and that I might create problems for him with his superiors. He was likely just feeling me out. He made no accusation.’

  ‘Nor would he want to. On what basis did he visit you?’

  ‘Making sure I knew what you’d been up to in the south.’

  ‘I’d done nothing.’

  ‘As you say, he’s a cunning fellow. The Gestapo officers invariably are. I don’t know anyone, German or otherwise, who has a single good word to say for any of them. But I have lied for you, Lisette. I told von Schleigel you worked at the bank in Strasbourg.’

  She nodded gratefully. ‘I know we can’t reveal I spent any time in Britain.’

  ‘If anyone knew that, you’d not be trusted, no matter what I said. You understand I had to make sure.’

 

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