Jean de LA HIRE
The Nyctalope Steps In
With additional stories by
Matthew Dennion, Emmanuel Gorlier,
Julien Heylbroeck, Paul Hugli,
Roman Leary, Randy Lofficier,
Stuart Shiffman and David L. Vineyard
Edited and translated by
Jean-Marc & Randy Lofficier
BLACK COAT PRESS
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Introduction 4
Jean de La Hire: The Nyctalope Steps In 8
Emmanuel Gorlier: Fiat Lux! 79
Emmanuel Gorlier: The Three Sisters 88
Julien Heylbroeck: The Season of the Shark 108
Emmanuel Gorlier: The Lesson of Captain Danrit 124
Matthew Dennion: The Hunters of Mars 135
Roman Leary: The Children of Heracles 151
Randy Lofficier: The English Gentleman’s Ball 192
Paul Hugli: Death to the Heretic! 197
Stuart Shiffman: The Nyctalope’s New York Adventure 229
Emmanuel Gorlier: A Present for Hitler 252
Emmanuel Gorlier: Twilight 265
Roman Leary: A Moment of Perfect Happiness 269
David L. Vineyard: The Mysterious Island of Dr. Antekirtt 287
Emmanuel Gorlier: Out of Time 323
Timeline 333
The Nyctalope novels by Jean de La Hire 355
Credits and Sources 357
Introduction
L’Enfant Perdu [The Lost Child, translated here as The Nyctalope Steps In, and reproduced with some of its original illustrations] was serialized from May 2 to July 12, 1942 in the weekly magazine L’Actu, published in Marseilles in non-occupied France. L’Actu was a pro-Vichy publication, which might explain why the novella was never subsequently reprinted, although other stories published in it at the same time, including some by Georges Simenon, the creator of Maigret, were.
The fact that the story was published in a pro-Vichy magazine was bound to impact the narrative—and it did—although La Hire was given, in some respects, a freer hand than many of his contemporaries. This is particularly true in Chapter One, which takes place in mid-June 1940, during the period of French history now known as the “Exodus.”
A brief summary of the events of that year will help the reader contextualize the story: The German armies invaded France, Belgium and Luxembourg on May 10, 1940, going through Belgium and the Ardennes mountains in the North. The French Military High command had been relying on its heavily fortified Ligne Maginot in the East for its defense, believing that an attack from the North was all but impossible. They were, in this instance, sadly and famously wrong.
The German troops reached Paris on June 14 and France was forced to surrender on June 22, after losing 92,000 men and suffering 200,000 wounded in the battle. This “Second Armistice” led to the division of the country into a Northern France, occupied by the Gerrnans, and the allegedly “free” France in the south, led by what became known as the Vichy régime because of the name of its capital.
The invasion of May 10 and the Germans’ rapid advance triggered a massive exodus of the population of Northern France towards the South. It is estimated that ten million people, nearly a quarter of the population of the country, fled on the roads, carrying whatever belongings they had, many without a fixed destination. To add to the tragedy, the convoys were attacked by the German airforce, which killed an estimated 100,000 civilians during the Exodus. The French government fled from Paris to Bordeaux on June 11, and, from there, eventually relocated to Morocco.
It is against that bleak and depressing background that The Nyctalope Steps In opens. The nature of the mission undertaken by Leo and his friend Gno Mitang is left unstated, as the Vichy publications were instructed to never refer to the battles between France and Germany. However, since there was no other enemy than Germany at the time, one supposes that Leo is somehow fighting the invaders; however, La Hire had no choice but to leave it unsaid.
To the extent that the Tripartite Pact, which became known as the Axis alliance, between Germany, Italy, and Japan, was only signed on September 27, 1940, it is possible that the Japanese Gno Mitang is still a “free agent,” capable of helping Leo, even against the Germans.
The Exodus was a deep and lasting blow to Jean de la Hire. This patriotic man, who sincerely believed in the greatness of France, saw all that he held dear shattered in a flash. Some people fled, some joined the resistance movements at home or abroad, some collaborated with the enemy for ideological or pragmatic reasons, and finally, others genuinely tried to do the best they could to help protect or save whatever remained of their country. From his writings, we know that La Hire fell in that last category.
The tragedy of the Nyctalope is that, despite the troubled times, he still tries his best to be a hero, even if it means finding an accommodation with the Nazi occupiers. He succeeds in small missions, but, ultimately, and lacking the hindsight of history, he fails in the much larger one.
This is a situation that no hero from English or American popular fiction ever had to face. Had England or America been defeated and occupied, one might like to speculate which of its heroes might have been similarly compromised… Reprinting this story today, therefore, gives us a chance to better understand and appreciate the moral challenges of these dark times.
There is one aspect of L’Enfant Perdu which is somewhat unpleasant, perhaps even puzzling. The story uses Roms (or Romanichels in the original French) as stereotypical villains, reinforcing the abominable racist cliché of gypsies as child-stealers. This is rather surprising since, throughout his fiction, La Hire was sympathetic to the Roms’ plight, having Leo live with them (under the alias of “Pedro del Campos”) and joining forces together in La Croix de sang. It is possible that La Hire did this to kowtow to the racist ideologies of the Vichy regime, but if so, that is indeed disappointing.
Eight of the fourteen other stories collected in this volume are entirely new: The Season of the Shark, The Lesson of Captain Danrit, The Hunters of Mars, The Nyctalope’s New York Adventure, A Present for Hitler, Twilight, A Moment of Perfect Happiness and The Three Sisters. The others have previously appeared in our anthology Tales of the Shadowmen. This collection comprise all of the Nyctalope stories published to date, along with those already reprinted in our earlier volume, Enter the Nyctalope.
The elaborate timeline by Emmanuel Gorlier which concludes this volume comes from Nyctalope! L’Univers Extravagant de Jean de La Hire, a book published by our sister French imprint Rivière Blanche about the Nyctalope “universe” and its creator.
Jean-Marc Lofficier
Jean de La Hire: The Nyctalope Steps In
Chapter One
The Eye Witnesses
A powerful car, bearing both front and the rear plates with the letters “CD,” indicating that at least one of its occupants belonged to the Diplomatic Corps, was traveling from Paris to Orleans.
Built for high speed, it moved sedately, almost as if it was being driven by a tourist.
But how could it have gone any fastes in that month of June, 1940? After finally making its way through Etampes, past the rush of vehicles of all kinds that crowded the roads, carrying people, animals and furniture in a desperate exodus, it continued to encounter, at regular intervals, further groups of survivors that formed, separated and formed again once more.
The vehicle was a stark contrast to all the others that it struggled past on the road. There were no suitcases crammed inside; its roof carried no excess luggage, nor was it toppedwith mattresses, haphazardly tied by a network of ropes.
Only two passengers were inside, both smartly dressed. The man behind the wheel was a short, stocky Japanese, with a str
ong and flexible body, and a wise Buddha-like face. His companion was a Frenchman whose athletic vigor was hidden inside a deceptively slim, elegant silhouette. Only his eyes, two extraordinary eyes with amazing power, covered by dark glasses, could have attracted any attention, and betrayed his identity as being Leo Saint-Clair, better known as the Nyctalope, whose exciting adventures had been widely reported in the newspapers around the world.
His companion was none other than his trusted friend and confidante, Gno Mitang, the famous Japanese diplomat and personal advisor to the Mikado himself.
They were, obviously, not fleeing. They took part in the Exodus as observers, with a secret purpose known only known to themselves.
Passing one group of cars after another on the road, they inspected each vehicle, their faces reflecting more compassion than curiosity.
Yet, one of the cars held a special interest for them, judging from the fact that they scrutinized it for several minutes.
It was an open vehicle, driven by a young, athletic-looking woman, accompanied by a 12-year-old boy. On the back seat, the usual heap of suitcases betrayed the sad purpose of the journey, for which the elegant sports car was clearly not made.
It was the child’s face which had attracted Leo Saint-Clair’s and Gno Mitang’s attention. It was difficult to imagine a friendlier and more graceful countenance, or one as vivacious. This golden-haired boy’s mobile features radiated an already powerful intelligence, expressed through his extraordinary dark eyes, full of thoughts and dreams, occasionally sparkling with humor or the simple, pure joy of childhood. The rapid succession of expressions had baffled the two observers. One moment, it was childishly carefree, candid and cheerful, then it was suddenly superseded by the serious and reflective face of an adult.
“A strange face,” murmured Gno Mitang.
“A strange child,” corrected the Nyctalope. “One can’t help but wonder what will become of him? Will he grow up to be a musical genius? A sublime poet? A philosopher? A scientist? He bears the mysterious mark of a genius on his forehead. I imagine that Mozart as a child, or the future Lord Byron, looked just like him.”
“He might also be destined for a life of suffering,” whispered the Japanese mysteriously.
“That, too,” replied Saint-Clair thoughtfully.
They remained silent, having noticed that the young woman was now looking at them. There was concern in her gaze, perhaps even fear… They took pity on her and, reading his friend’s thoughts, Gno Mitang stepped on the gas pedal and passed her vehicle.
The Nyctalope turned. He saw the young woman’s face again becoming reassured, but at the same time, he saw an expression of great weariness, that moved him powerfully.
“That young woman is falling asleep behind the wheel,” he said. “I wonder how many hours she has been driving without stopping… Her eyes are closing despite her will to stay awake. She should stop.”
The boy, however, remained awake. He had pulled a small notebook from his pocket and was writing something in it with concentration. His expression was serious, almost alight with inspiration.
The gap separating the two cars was increasing by the second. Saint-Clair stopped being able to study their faces, and soon lost sight of the other vehicle. Other cars appeared, which the Japanese passed one after the other. The Nyctalope looked at their passengers distractedly, but none held his attention the way the young woman and the boy had. For too many hours, he had seen too many identical faces, pale, frightened, drawn with fatigue and anxiety. The image of the strange child, however, remained fixed in his mind...
They passed a caravan of gypsies, sordid, rickety, crowded with ragged brats, escorted by men with dark faces and colorful clothes. In the look that the Bohemians gave them, the Nyctalope and his friend were surprised to discover a sinister, disturbing flame. It was the look of a predator watching its prey; looters following a rout and waiting for their chance to strip bare those who fell behind.
But the road was still not deserted. Cars preceded or followed the caravan, which was continuing its slow progress, drawn by an emaciated horse. All the drivers of the other cars exhibited the same concern, the same desire to pass the caravan and move away as quickly as possible.
One car, however, appeared to be an exception, obstinately deciding to remain behind the pathetic equipage. It was a two-seater sports car with a single occupant; its trunk was full of suitcases and travel bags.
Many women and children were traveling on foot and falling behind; they had probably begged its driver to take them in. He could easily have carried two or three people. But his hard face and his evil look had discouraged the would-be supplicants. Hunched over the steering wheel, his shoulders hunmched up, his head down, the driver tried to conceal his face; it was the repulsive, ugly snout of a human hyena.
“That man certainly doesn’t appear to be in a hurry,” remarked Gno Mitang. “What pleasure can he get from breathing the dirt of that caravan?”
“He’s just a looter of another kind,” said Saint-Clair, whose keen eyes had had time to scan the character’s face.
After they passed that final group of travelers, the Japanese’s car sped up on the road. Towards the end of the day, they arrived at Orleans, taking the long avenue of Faubourg Bannier to go straight into the heart of the city, where Leo Saint-Clair had been asked to come on an important and mysterious mission.
The following day, returning to Paris along the same road, after passing the town of Cercottes, the Nyctalope and Gno Mitang were forced to slow down to avoid hitting a grotesque caravan which was preparing to leave the main highway to take one of the dirt roads that cut through the western portion of the Orleans forest.
Saint-Clair recognized it as the same one they had seen the day before.
“This is the wagon we saw yesterday,” he pointed out.
“When it comes to speed, a tortoise would be faster,” said the Japanese.
Just then, as if to contradict him, the gypsy who rode in front of the caravan whipped the horse. The vehicle sped up and soon disappeared into the trees.
“The route they follow is strange,” said Gno. “If they intend to cross the Loire river, they’re not on the right path.”
“My guess is that they’re trying to avoid the roadblocks around Orleans and the gendarmes,” said Leo Saint-Clair. “Their papers are probably no more in order with the Law than their consciences. They’re going to let the storm pass while hiding in these woods. They’ll add poaching to their list of offenses.”
The Nyctalope’s car continued on its way, soon leaving Chevilly beyond. Shortly before La Croix Briquet, Gno Mitang had to slow down again to let another cortege of refugees pass by. Suddenly, cries for help aroused their attention. On the other side of the road, a young woman stood next to a parked car, and was asking the many haggard people who filed past her for help, but they all ignoring her cries.
Listening to her, the two men heard bits of sentences, chopped words broken by sobs and cries. But the line of sad, dazed faces that walked by the woman had been rendered indifferent to all but their own misfortunes by excessive fatigue and despair. They moved past, flowing like a heavy, dark tide, carried by its own weight that no wind, no ripple, can disturb.
“My child... A little boy...” said the woman. “Have you seen my child?”
The Nyctalope and Gno Mitang exchanged the same look of concern and compassion. They had recognized the woman and the car.
“It’s the girl we saw yesterday!” murmured the Nyctalope. “The mother or the guardian of the little boy with the face of a genius!”
“But the boy is no longer with her,” said Gno Mitang.
“Stop!” ordered Saint-Clair. “We need to question her and learn what has happened to cause such distress.”
The flood of indifferent, dull people finished passing. One last car drove by, leaving the road empty. Opening the door, the Nyctalope jumped onto the road and walked across to talk to the woman. After parking their car, the Jap
anese followed him.
The woman, her arms tragically outstretched, called and gestured to them.
“Messieurs… Messieurs…” she cried in a shrill voice. “Have you seen a child, a handsome blond boy, bare-headed, with big dark eyes? He is wearing a little beige sport jacket, short brown pants and shoes of the same shade, but a little darker?…”
“Yes, Madame,” said Saint-Clair seriously. “We saw him yesterday, on the road, in that car parked behind you.”
“But what about today, Monsieur? He vanished last night, or at dawn, while I was asleep. I stopped the car last night. I was exhausted. I fell asleep at the wheel. Fearing an accident, I preferred to spend the night by the roadside. And, in the morning, Yves had disappeared...”
Her voice broke. The sentence ended in a whimper of pain.
“Is the child your son, Madame?” asked the Nyctalope.
“No, Monsieur, I’m only his guardian, but I love him as if I were his own mother—better than his mother. He is my life. He was entrusted to me on his deathbed by his grandfather, who was my benefactor. I swear...”
More sobbing interrupted her sentence.
“Calm yourself, Madame,” advised the Nyctalope gently. “We understand your concern, but you must try to control yourself and tell us exactly what you think happened. Under what conditions did the child disappear? Could he have gone for a stroll while you slept? Gotten lost? Might he have been caught in one of these waves of evacuees who were drifting by? My friend and I are only too happy to help you, if we can. Let me introduce myself: my name is Leo Saint-Clair and this gentleman is his Excellency Gno Mitang, Japanese diplomat.”
“Leo Saint-Clair! The Nyctalope!” she cried, while her eyes suddenly shone with a ray of hope. “Oh! Monsieur, you’ve been sent to me by Divine Providence! I’ve heard of you, of your superhuman powers, of your many exploits…”
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