by Robbie, Vic
‘I thought, chéri,’ she said, ‘you as an officer and a gentleman wouldn’t punish him if you knew the truth.’
The term chéri seemed to make him soften. ‘Of course, of course.’ He smiled and regained his seat. He turned his chair around to look out over the Fort’s grounds so they couldn’t tell what he was really thinking, and he was quiet for several minutes.
‘If the Americans attempted any kind of action against the Reich, it would start a chain of events they couldn’t survive,’ he said, wheeling around to stare at Natalie and then Ben.
‘I know nothing about any of this,’ Ben said truthfully. ‘Now, will you release me?’
Von Bayerstein removed his monocle and took out a large white handkerchief to polish it while smiling bleakly at him. ‘I think not.’ His fingers played with a sheet of paper before him on his desk and he turned it over. ‘Erich here.’ He pointed at Braune. ‘He is a good man. A diligent soldier. Not quite the errand boy that you might think. It’s his responsibility to oversee the security of our operation on the island. He does it with enthusiasm and while I don’t have the time to concentrate on detail I expect him to do so for me.’ As he smiled at him, Braune winced in discomfort.
‘Tell me again, Natalie, how you came to know this man, Ben Peters?’
‘I don’t, apart from the accidental meeting at the club.’ She shook her head emphatically.
He didn’t like where this was going. The General appeared to know something and he wondered what was on the paper on the desk in front of him.
‘Of course.’ Von Bayerstein sighed and shook his head as if this were all a mystery. ‘It is strange is it not that although he did not give you his name you called him Ben at the club?’ He tapped the sheet of paper in front of him. ‘And then there is this report that on the morning after your accidental meeting, with a man you did not know, you met him again in the forest behind where you live.’
‘I–I–’ She glanced at Ben for help.
‘Some might say that was suspicious behaviour.’ Von Bayerstein stared at her. ‘Especially involving a man we had under surveillance.’
‘It was a chance meeting, I was out for a walk and we bumped into each other.’
‘Oh, I see, that explains it.’
She almost looked relieved.
‘Could you explain why you handed him what looked to be a gun and then an envelope?’
Natalie wouldn’t meet his stare.
‘Perhaps we are looking for the wrong person here?’ He flicked the sheet of paper. ‘Tell me who you really are, Natalie?’ And there was a sarcastic emphasis on her name.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘The Major was meticulous.’ Again he smiled bleakly. ‘You say your name is Natalie Baudin and you are a schoolteacher from Abbeville.’
‘That’s correct,’ she said.
‘Apparently, there was indeed a schoolteacher called Natalie Baudin in Abbeville, but she died earlier this year at the age of sixty, and she was a spinster with no living relations.’
‘I can explain.’ Natalie paused and then blurted out: ‘I took her name and had some papers forged. I wanted to get away from the war and start a new life, perhaps in America.’
‘Understandable, I think we would all like to run away from our responsibilities.’ He laughed and his men echoed him. ‘But the Major enquired further and it would appear rather than you finding a forger to get your papers, they were provided for you at considerable expense. Professional help.’ The General studied her face. ‘Who paid for your passport and papers?’
‘No one, I got them myself through contacts.’
‘I see.’ He lit another cigarette and for a few seconds his face was wreathed in smoke. ‘We have found your forger in Paris. He was discovered when we arrested some suspects. After a lengthy interrogation, he admitted to forging papers for members of the Resistance and recalled the name of Natalie Baudin. Unfortunately, he died before he could tell us who had ordered her papers.’
‘I told you, I did.’
He sighed like a parent about to scold a wayward child. ‘I like you Natalie, but you have to understand my position.’
Ben could tell that von Bayerstein was struggling to stay reasonable.
‘You risk your life to save this man from a firing squad. You tell me about some American plot to make an assault on Martinique. You know what happened to two of my men who have disappeared. And it transpires your papers are false and you have an elaborate cover story.’ He hesitated. ‘Perhaps you are the agent we are looking for?’
‘No,’ she shouted and stood up.
‘You could be working for the Free French? Or the Americans, or the British? Or even someone else?’
She shook her head.
‘Do you deny meeting this man?’
‘No.’ Her pallor had changed to a greyish white as though the blood had been drained out of her.
‘So either he is a spy, too, and deserves to face the firing squad–’
‘No.’
‘–or he is an unwitting accomplice.’
‘That’s not true,’ she shouted. ‘None of this is true.’
‘Or is he your lover?’ He smiled benevolently as though admitting it would bring an end to all her problems.
Again, she shook her head and flushed to her roots. ‘I met him at his hotel and I liked him. Would you expect anything less from a woman like me?’
‘So while you were with me you were also seeing this man.’ Von Bayerstein crumpled up the sheet of paper into a ball and threw it into a corner of the room.
‘It’s not like that at all.’
‘I don’t know what’s worse – being an agent or cheating on me.’ His head slumped as though in sadness and he looked deflated. ‘I thought you and I were doing well together, perhaps even that there was something between us.’ Then, seeming to regain his composure, he added: ‘I have known many women in my life and not one of them has cheated on me. When our relationship was at an end, it was always my decision, not theirs. This is the biggest insult you can do to me.’
They sensed the tension building within him as he stood up. And, as if a switch had been flicked, he picked up the silver cigarette box and flung it, scattering the cigarettes and causing Horst to duck as it flew over his head. ‘You are an enemy of the Reich and will have to pay. We cannot afford any mercy for your kind. You will be taken from here and face the firing squad along with your lover.’
To his surprise, she started sobbing uncontrollably. The tears rolled down her cheeks and she reached into her purse to retrieve a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes before replacing it. She paused, as if making a decision, and went back into the purse and pulled out a pistol. Everyone froze.
‘General, für Sie,’ she said, pointing it straight at his chest and the fear she saw in his eyes gave her the strength to pull the trigger. Screaming, the Major leaped at her and he caught the bullet in his neck and his momentum knocked her onto the floor and sent the gun sliding out of her reach.
Von Bayerstein was moving toward her and pulled out a Luger and levelled it at her. ‘I could shoot you now, but that would be too easy. I think instead you will enjoy the ritual of the firing squad.’
He looked down at the Major, a pool of blood spreading underneath his body. ‘Foolish, very foolish. Poor Erich. He despised me, of course, yet his mindless sense of duty saved me. The irony of sacrificing his life would not have been lost on him. I will see he gets a medal for this.’
Although Horst had been as immobile as a statue, he broke his silence. ‘Let me have her first, Herr General. She will tell me all we need to know.’ His eyes gleamed at the prospect.
‘I have seen women like this before and you will get nothing out of her.’ He shook his head. ‘It would waste your time and she would die before she told you anything. But I will let you have an hour with her and then the two lovers will face the firing squad together. I want no more delays to our work, we have more important things to d
o.’
Horst retreated looking suitably disappointed that it would be only one hour.
The General drew on his cigarette until the ash almost burned his fingers and then raised a hand. ‘Wait, I have a better idea.’ He smiled at Horst. ‘You of all people will appreciate this. I studied at Heidelberg University. Was not a good student. Studying medieval history. Boring – all those battles and politics. Not for me.’ He swept them aside with a hand. ‘Then I came across medieval torture and read about all the things they used to do to their enemies. Amazing. So innovative. So imaginative. I once recounted some of the methods to our Führer, who also found it very interesting. So in our camps our medical experts instigated some of the treatments on the Untermensch – Jews, gypsies, disabled and so on.’
Ben interrupted him. ‘Why don’t you just get on with it?’ One of the guards slammed the butt of his rifle into his midriff, bringing him to his knees.
The General raised a hand. ‘Don’t worry, Peters, I think you will like this. Your execution will be delayed while we experiment on your girlfriend.’ He turned to Natalie. ‘What do you know about scaphism?’
When she made no response, he grunted: ‘I thought not. My particular favourite was the Spanish Mantle. It was very effective. Obviously, we do not have an original here. No matter. Basically, you will be placed in a barrel. The lid of the barrel will be cut so only your head will protrude. Do not worry; you will not starve to death, quite the contrary. You will be fed milk and honey regularly. This will help relax your bowels and you will be imprisoned in your own excrement. Now for the interesting part.’ He was studying her face for a reaction, but, disappointingly, she showed no emotion. ‘We will take the barrel outside where there are many insects and they will breed and burrow into your rotting body. Delirium will settle in after a few days but before then you should have told us everything you know and more.’ He paused before continuing: ‘Then you will die – quite simply the maggots, the insects, the bugs will eat you alive.’
45
Fort-de-France, Martinique: Monday, November 17th, 1941
Although warm outside, the temperature in Ben’s cell fell as fast as his morale. Empty. No bed. No water. No food. No toilet. The stone-flagged floor crawled with all kinds of insects from ants to corpulent cockroaches. For the first couple of hours, he had paced the confines of his cell – five steps one way, four the other – wondering if Natalie could survive. She had risked her life to save his. Now the onus was on him to rescue her from a painful and horrible death. He had run through the possibilities of escaping and realised it was hopeless. Perhaps if he confessed to working for Smee, he might be able to stall them, although he knew he’d still face the firing squad and Natalie would be left to rot.
How long would they keep him here? Until Natalie had endured a long and lingering death and they would parade what was left of her body like a hunting trophy before disposing of him? At least, his would be a more merciful death than Natalie’s. In frustration, he had slammed a fist into the rough granite wall of his cell and regretted it immediately. The hopelessness of their plight ate into him and he slumped against the wall gradually slipping down until he lay on the cold floor. He used his shoes as a pillow to keep his head away from the marauding cockroaches. And he hoped darkness would blanket the disturbing images flashing through his mind. Sleep came.
‘Get up, get up.’ Horst stood over him, kicking him in his side.
‘Where’s my coffee?’ he said, rolling out of range of the German’s boot.
‘The General thought you might like to see how his little experiment is going.’ Horst sneered at him and dragged Ben to his feet and shoved him towards the door.
Two of his men grabbed his arms and steered him down some long corridors before pushing open an iron-studded door and entering a much larger room.
The fetid atmosphere and the stench of human waste overpowered his senses and almost made him retch. He turned his face away and tried to bring up his arms to block the smell, but the Nazis kept them pinned to his side. It made his eyes water, but gradually they cleared and he saw a barrel sitting in the middle of the room. Squadrons of flies buzzed around it and the surface was alive with wriggling insects. Two other Nazis stood either side of the barrel, both wearing facemasks so only their eyes showed.
As they forced him closer, what he’d first thought was a black rag laying on the top of the barrel turned out to be Natalie’s head. He gasped. It was as though her head existed independent of a body. Just a head placed on a table. Her eyes were closed and then, as if sensing him, she opened them and they were pleading for an end to her agony. Her hair was coated and matted, her eyes dark and sunken, and in contrast her skin glowed a deathly white. She tried to speak, but her lips were so swollen and cracked nothing came out, just the rattle of a dying animal.
‘What do you think, Peters?’ Von Bayerstein entered the room and stood behind him, rubbing his hands together. ‘Seems to be going well.’
‘Put her out of her misery, you bastard.’
‘Sorry, she does not look quite so appealing this morning.’ He appeared to be enjoying it. ‘While you have been sleeping, she has been working. Or eating, I should say. She has been force-fed every hour. The creatures inhabiting her demand it, and, of course, the more they eat, the more they breed, and that means more mouths to feed.’
‘How can you do this to another human being?’
‘What are you complaining about? We let you sleep. Usually, we hang people like you on meat hooks and let them suffocate slowly in their own blood and vomit. Anyway, it will not be long now. Once their eggs hatch inside her, they will start eating her. She can feel them now moving about inside her like lice. Then she will tell us everything we need to know. The physical pain in her body will become too much to bear and her mind will surrender first. She will cease to exist as a person, and just be a host the bugs feast on, like a maggoty piece of old meat. They will eventually make their way into her brain and start eating it and it will be like switching the lights off one by one in a large building. And in the end there will be nothing left of her, just a shell with its innards scooped out.’
He gagged and almost threw up.
‘Our Führer says you attack an enemy from within through propaganda and terror. When people, be they Americans or anyone, see what we will do to whoever opposes us it strikes fear in their hearts and then they are already half beaten.’
Natalie moved her head from side to side and a rasping sound came from her throat.
‘The time may have arrived,’ von Bayerstein said, ordering one of the men to ‘give her some water, I think she wants to speak.’
The rasping became louder, but what she said was still unintelligible.
With a look of annoyance, he gestured for Horst to step closer to her. ‘Tell me what she is saying,’ he ordered him. Horst crouched down beside her, placing a hand over his nose.
‘She says–’ Horst began.
‘Never mind that, man. Just repeat her words.’
‘Free me and I will tell you everything you need to know,’ Horst relayed, pausing while she struggled to get out the words, finding it difficult to swallow.
‘I am afraid it does not work that way,’ von Bayerstein said, lighting a cigarette and gratefully inhaling the smoke as it disguised the smell. ‘Tell me everything and if I believe you, I will let you go. You have my word as a gentleman.’
Ben snorted.
She coughed and her whole body shook and a swarm of flies flew away. ‘Very important...’
‘Go on, go on,’ he insisted, impatience crowding his face.
‘Assassination,’ Horst said.
Ben glanced at the General whose eyes were focusing on Natalie.
‘Admiral Robert to be assassinated.’ There was a long pause as she tried to recover the impetus to force the words out to Horst. ‘Robert to be killed to destabilise … pave the way for Free French … take control.’
‘And who is going to do this
?’ Von Bayerstein stepped closer to her and quickly stepped back wrinkling his nose in disgust.
‘Agent sent to kill.’
‘You?’
‘No, no.’ She coughed what looked like blood.
With great effort, she nodded in Ben’s direction, and she sighed as though that was her last breath and her eyes closed.
‘So, I was right to put him before a firing squad,’ the General said smugly. ‘But I still believe you are the brains behind this.’
He was surprised by the strength of her voice. ‘No, Peters is the assassin. Ask your people in New York. Photograph of him in New York Times with D D Durant, of the State Department. Check his hotel room, there’s a radio, map of the Fort, and a pistol.’
‘And you are his accomplice?’
‘I was sent to stop him.’ Her chin sank onto the barrel and her eyes closed again with the exhaustion of speaking.
Ben found what she’d said surprising, but his face didn’t register it. If this were her last throw of the dice, he would go along with it.
‘You see, my experiment does work.’ Von Bayerstein turned to him.
‘For Christ’s sake, man, can’t you let her out of the barrel or put her out of her misery now she has confessed.’
‘We will let nature take its course.’ The German shook his head with a hint of regret. ‘As for you, you have failed. You were sent here by the Americans and now I will give you back to Horst to find out what else you can tell us and then if you are helpful I will let you die.’
‘Let Natalie go and I’ll tell you everything.’
‘You will anyway.’
‘Is there anything I can do to save her?’
‘It’s too late for that now.’ Von Bayerstein stared at him as though he were assessing the options then walked away. ‘Natalie has to pay for what she has done.’
He stopped and turned back. ‘But perhaps, if–’
‘What?’
‘If you could bring Raymond to me,’ the General said with an amused smile.