The Game of Treachery

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The Game of Treachery Page 22

by Christopher Nicole


  ‘Not anymore.’

  ‘Hold it,’ Joanna, said. ‘She’s actually one of us. Reluctantly, I guess. But effectively.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘She’s one of my principal sources in Berlin.’

  Liane stared at her sister. ‘Is that true?’

  ‘Well, we’re all going to be hanged. I know it.’

  ‘Nobody is going to be hanged,’ Joanna said, ‘if we all keep our heads.’ She glanced at Liane. ‘I’ve been considering our problem.’ She turned back to Madeleine. ‘You are going to get us out of here.’

  ‘Me? I’m a prisoner already.’

  ‘Who says so? Not Franz Hoeppner?’

  ‘No, no. He’s as upset as I am. But he, the Bordeaux command, has been taken over for the time being by that dreadful man Weber of the SD. This is so he can make his attack on your people. The whole thing is terribly hush-hush, and they’re afraid if I am allowed to leave before the attack I may spill it.’

  ‘If it’s all hush-hush, then no one apart from Franz and Weber and you know what’s going on, right?’

  ‘Well, I suppose some of Weber’s people know of it.’

  ‘But none of Hoeppner’s. Now listen very carefully, and I’ll tell you what you have to do.’ She smiled at Liane. ‘Both of you.’

  *

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ Barbara de Gruchy kept saying. ‘Oh, my darling, darling girl. To have you here, and looking so well …’

  ‘It’s the open air life,’ Liane said.

  Albert just sat and stared at her. Liane realized that he had taken the past year far worse than his wife, and looked a crushed and very old man.

  ‘And can you really take us out of here?’

  ‘Yes. It will be very hard. Very tiring. Very dangerous. Are you prepared to risk it?’

  ‘To get back to England? I would risk anything.’

  ‘There is something that has to be done first. Papa! Is Bouterre trustworthy?’

  Albert blinked at her. ‘He has proved so up to now,’ Barbara said. ‘Why?’

  ‘I wish you to give him instructions not to carry out his usual audit of the Paris books this October, and I also wish him to inform Brissard that he will not be doing so again before next spring at the very earliest.’

  Barbara frowned. ‘He will find that very irregular.’

  ‘But will he do it?’

  ‘Well, I suppose so. He will ask for a reason.’

  ‘You say he can be trusted. Tell him it is for France.’

  ‘You are saying that Brissard is in the Resistance.’

  ‘In my business, one says nothing. One merely gets things done.’

  ‘Very well, my dear. You have become a very positive person. But then, I suppose you always were … only we never saw enough of you to notice. I will —’ She checked abruptly as Madeleine appeared in the doorway. ‘My God!’

  ‘Franz has replied,’ Madeleine said. ‘He will come to dinner.’

  ‘I do not understand,’ Barbara said. ‘She is —’

  ‘One of us, Mama. And she is going to help us to escape.’

  ‘Madeleine! Oh, Madeleine!’ Barbara stood up to embrace her younger daughter. ‘To think how I have hated you. And you say that Pierre and Amalie are also alive and well. This must be the happiest day of my life.’

  ‘They are waiting for you, Mama,’ Liane promised her. ‘All we need now is for all of us to play our parts.’

  *

  ‘Come back for me at eleven, Willi,’ Franz Hoeppner told his driver. ‘I do not wish to be out late.’

  ‘Eleven, Herr Colonel. Have a nice dinner.’

  ‘I intend to.’ He went up the steps and nodded to Paul, who opened the doors for him. He was so pleased that Madeleine had so far decided to forgive him as to invite him to dinner. And he was so pleased to be able to accept. No doubt Weber would criticize, but even if that dreadful man had been able to take over his command, there was no way he was going to take over his private life. ‘In here, Herr Colonel,’ Paul said, accompanying him down the corridor.

  Franz glanced at him in surprise; the poor fellow’s voice was trembling, but then, he was actually trembling all over. No doubt he was not used to having German officers in the house. The door was opened for him, and he stepped into the brilliantly lighted drawing room, gazed at Madeleine. She too was looking extremely agitated, and he felt sure that she had recently been weeping. ‘Madeleine?’ Behind him the door closed, softly.

  ‘Franz!’ Madeleine stepped forward.

  ‘Stop right there.’

  Franz turned towards the new voice, which was not one he had ever heard before, although he found it extremely attractive; as he did the owner of the voice with the classically beautiful features and the waving shoulder-length, yeIlow hair. But he did not care for the expression on her face, or the Luger pointed at his head, while her resemblance to Madeleine told him instantly who she was. ‘My God!’

  ‘They made me do it,’ Madeleine said. ‘She said she would shoot me.’

  ‘Your own sister?’

  ‘She is a traitor to France,’ Liane said. ‘She deserves to die.’

  Franz looked at the older de Gruchys, who stood together against the far wall. ‘You would permit this?’

  ‘She is no longer our daughter,’ Barbara spat. ‘She is a Nazi.’

  Again Franz looked from face to face. ‘Why did you bring me here? Do you not realize that now I shall be forced to hang you all? Or am I to be murdered too?’

  ‘That is up to you,’ Liane said. ‘Is your car still here?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But it will come back for you. When? Please do not lie to me, Herr Colonel, or you will die.’

  He looked into her eyes, and thought what a pleasure it would be to meet this woman in a ballroom. But she was a cold-blooded killer. Even if he had not seen the file on her, he could see it in her eyes. ‘Eleven.’

  ‘That is ideal. We shall have dinner. Mama?’

  Barbara rang the bell, and Paul appeared. ‘You may serve, Paul.’

  ‘Are all your servants suborned?’ Franz asked.

  ‘All of our servants have been dismissed,’ Barbara said.

  ‘Save for Paul. As he has had to cook the dinner as well as serve it, I’m afraid it will not be up to our usual standard. But we will be serving Gruchy Grand Cru. Some of the last bottles left in our cellars. I am sure you will enjoy it.’

  *

  It was the strangest meal Franz Hoeppner had ever experienced. The food was actually excellent, the wine quite superb — he had only ever drunk Gruchy Fourteen Grand Cru once before in his life. The conversation flowed, at least between Barbara and Liane, as they reminisced about old times and looked forward to their return after the war. Albert said little; he was clearly in a fog. And Madeleine spoke only when directly addressed; she was clearly terrified. Of her own family! But of one thing he was certain: she had to be protected from them, whatever the cost. While he had to do the best he could. It could only be with words, as Liane, seated opposite him, had her Luger under her right hand and pointing at him all the time.

  ‘You are hoping to escape into Vichy,’ he suggested. ‘But you do understand that however long it takes, you will be hunted down, eventually.’

  ‘It all depends on whether your “eventually” happens before the end of the war, don’t you think?’ she asked.

  ‘The end of the war will make no difference to our determination to bring to justice those who have committed crimes against us.’

  ‘Ah, but it will, Herr Colonel. Because when the war ends you will be in no position to hunt down anyone. You will be too busy trying to avoid being hunted down yourselves.’

  ‘Do you really believe we can lose this war, mademoiselle? Have you looked at a map recently?’

  ‘Herr Colonel, you lost this war the moment your first soldier crossed the Polish frontier in September 1939.’

  They stared at each other, and he managed a smile. ‘I see we m
ust agree to differ. But I will say with all sincerity that I have enjoyed meeting you, and that I shall be genuinely sorry when they put the rope around your neck.’

  ‘Do you know, I think I will say snap to that.’ She looked at her watch. ‘But you have not seen the last of me yet. We are to take a midnight drive together.’

  ‘Do you really think you can get away with this?’

  ‘I am going to be beside you every minute of the way, Herr Colonel. If I do not get away with it, you will be dead long before they get around to putting that rope round my neck. It is a quarter to eleven. We must move. Mama, will you take Madeleine upstairs. You know what to do. But try to be gentle. Remember she is pregnant.’

  ‘With a German baby!’

  ‘With your grandchild, Mama. Go along, Madeleine. Behave yourself.’

  Madeleine got up. ‘You are not going to let them get away with this, Franz. Tell me that.’

  ‘What is going to happen to her?’ Franz asked.

  ‘We are merely going to tie her up so that she cannot get free until we are well away. Now, will you finish your wine?’

  *

  ‘Well, Roess, what do you think of my dispositions?’ Weber asked as the two men breakfasted together.

  Roess had just arrived by the overnight train from Paris, and needed a shave. ‘I have not actually seen them yet, Herr Colonel. But I am sure they are admirable. May I ask when is the day?’

  ‘The official day is the 30th of September.’

  ‘That is three weeks away. May I ask why you have brought me here at this time?’

  ‘We are going to capture, or kill, the de Gruchy clan, Roess. These are people you have been hunting for over a year. I supposed you would like to be in at the kill.’

  ‘Indeed I would, sir. But three weeks is a long time to be away from Paris.’

  Weber smiled. ‘It is not going to be three weeks. We are surrounded by spies and treachery. Thus I have told all my commanders, including Hoeppner, that the date is the 30th of September, and instructed them to be ready for that. In fact, I intend to go in the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘But will your men be ready?’

  ‘They are ready now. I just needed to make sure all, or at least most, of the guerillas would have returned from the abortive attack on St Valery. Heydrich said to give them five weeks. I have allowed them just over four. I assume you have had no success in tracing Liane de Gruchy?’

  ‘The woman seems to be able to vanish into thin air.’

  ‘That may be. But if she has left Paris I would say it is a certainty that she has returned to Vichy. So we have every reason to suppose that she will be there as well. It will be a great coup.’ He looked at the doorway to where Hoeppner’s secretary, Martine, who he had appropriated along with this office, was hovering. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Excuse me, Herr Colonel, but there is a woman here.’

  ‘What sort of woman?’

  ‘Well, sir, she claims to be an American.’

  Weber was on his feet. ‘Jonsson! Send her in.’

  Roess was also on his feet. ‘Jonsson? But …’

  ‘She has been turned. I turned her.’ Both men faced the door as Joanna came in, and both men’s jaws dropped at the sight of the bedraggled figure. ‘My God!’ Weber said. ‘What has happened to you?’

  Joanna sank into the chair Roess had vacated. ‘Do you have anything to drink?’

  ‘Cognac, Martine!’ Martine hurried off. ‘You are supposed to be in England,’ Weber pointed out. Roess had retreated against the wall; he had never expected to find himself in the same room as this woman.

  Martine returned with the glass of brandy and Joanna drank deeply, then raised her head. ‘You lied to me! You made me think you had Liane de Gruchy in your cells.’

  ‘Well, as they say, all is fair in love and war. You mean she is in Vichy? What did I tell you, Roess? I can read these people like a book.’

  Joanna turned her head, sharply. ‘Roess? You are Roess?’

  ‘I am Colonel Roess, yes.’

  ‘You see, Roess, you are famous,’ Weber said. ‘But what were you doing with the guerillas, Joanna?’

  ‘I wished to see them. To …’

  ‘I see. You wished to see if what I had told you was the truth. And you found it to be a lie. Tell me, did you mail my letter?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘And did you receive a reply?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where is it?’

  ‘I mailed it to your office in Berlin.’

  ‘Mailed it? From where?’

  ‘Zurich. I went from England to Switzerland, as I intended to come down here. Have I done wrong?’

  ‘I imagine Switzerland is safe enough, although it was your business to deliver the letter personally in Berlin. But I am confused. You say you carried out your mission in England. Were there any problems?’

  Joanna finished her brandy and held out the glass. Martine looked at Weber, received a quick nod, and went off to refill it. ‘There were no problems,’ Joanna said. ‘I have never had any problems in England.’

  ‘Very good. Then you returned, not to Germany, but to Switzerland, and from there made your way into Vichy to visit your friends. There you discovered your lover alive and well, I assume. At any rate, she was not in a Gestapo cell, as I had said. Yet you are here. You have to explain this.’

  ‘Well …’ Joanna accepted the second glass of brandy, sipped. ‘They knew you are planning to attack them.’

  ‘You told them this?’

  ‘Of course I did not. They already knew.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘I don’t know. But they are preparing to move out before the 30th of September.’

  ‘And you came here to tell me this?’

  ‘I came to tell Colonel Hoeppner. I did not know you were here.’

  ‘Why did you do this, when you knew I had tricked you? When you must have felt I had no further hold on you? And when you must realize that your information may well mean the deaths of your friends. And your lover.’

  Joanna’s shoulders hunched. ‘They are not my friends.’ She glanced at him, then looked away again. ‘She has taken a lover. A man! She told me she did not wish to see me again.’

  ‘Well, well. What did some English playwright once say, Roess? Hell hath no fury, et cetera. But such emotional upsets are always useful. Thank you, Fräulein. Martine, has Colonel Hoeppner come in yet?’

  ‘Not as yet, Herr Colonel.’

  ‘He has taken up sleeping late because he is annoyed that I have taken command. However, will you please get hold of him and tell him I wish to see him immediately.’ The girl hurried off, and Weber returned behind his desk. ‘We shall act on your information, Fräulein.’

  ‘They are moving in three days,’ Joanna said. ‘They have already started. You cannot get there in time.’

  ‘On the contrary. I will be in their midst tomorrow morning.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ Roess asked. ‘It is sixty kilometres from the border to the guerilla camp.’

  ‘Two days’ journey for a motorized column, eh? But only fifteen minutes by air.’

  ‘My God!’ Joanna gasped.

  ‘Exactly. One must be up to date.’

  ‘But that is mountainous country. How will you put a plane down? And you will need more than one.’

  ‘I have three small transports standing by. According to the information given Hoeppner by Ulstein when she was here, these people regularly receive supplies from England by light aircraft. She has marked on the map the exact place where this plane lands. Where a Britisher can land, so can we.’

  ‘But surely that plane comes in at night, to a lit strip.’

  ‘A facility we will lack. But we can land at dawn, overwhelm the opposition, and be off again by midday. How is Ulstein, by the way? You must have met her.’

  ‘Ulstein is dead,’ Joanna said, trying desperately to think. The use of airborne troops had simply not occurred to her. ‘They found o
ut who she was and executed her.’

  ‘Now, that is a shame. She was a brave and dedicated woman. Was she ill-treated before execution?’

  ‘I do not believe so.’

  ‘Well, that is something. I am sure she will have died well. Yes, Martine?’

  ‘Colonel Hoeppner is not in his quarters, Herr Colonel. His servant says he did not return at all last night.’

  ‘Return? Return from where?’

  ‘Colonel Hoeppner went out to dinner, sir. At the de Gruchy house.’

  ‘What? And he has not returned? You are saying he is still there?’

  ‘I do not know, sir.’

  ‘Well, send somebody out there to find out what has happened. Tell him to break into the house if necessary.’ Martine scurried from the room. ‘Those fucking people …’

  ‘They would hardly have harmed a German colonel when everyone knew exactly where he was,’ Joanna protested. ‘And the de Gruchys are not murderers.’

  ‘Their daughter certainly is.’

  ‘But Liane is in Vichy.’

  ‘You think you know these people. You do not. Not since the start of the war. They have become a pack of mad dogs. Well?’ he glared at Martine as she reappeared.

  She was now looking positively terrified. ‘There has been a telephone call from Sergeant Boden, Herr Colonel. From frontier crossing six.’

  Weber was on his feet again. ‘Guerilla activity?’

  ‘Well, no, sir. It is very strange.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘Sergeant Boden reports that at one o’clock this morning Colonel Hoeppner’s car crossed the frontier.’

  Slowly Weber sank back into his chair. ‘It was not stopped?’

  ‘Well, yes, sir, it was. But it was definitely Colonel Hoeppner, and he commanded the barrier to be lifted.’

  ‘He was alone?’

  ‘No, sir. He was accompanied by his driver, and three other people. One, an elderly gentleman, sat in the front beside the driver. The other two were women. One is described as elderly, the other as young.’

  Weber stared at her for several seconds. Then he said, in a quiet voice, ‘At one o’clock this morning. It is now nine o’clock. That is eight hours. Why is he reporting it now?’

  ‘Well, sir, although he thought it strange, and entered it in his log book, as it was Colonel Hoeppner, and he was giving instructions in a clear, calm voice, he assumed the colonel was on some undercover mission into Vichy. But when, as you say, sir, several hours had passed and the colonel did not return, he became worried. He wants instructions as to what to do next.’

 

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