‘For the hospice of the blind, as suggested by your employer.’
‘He didn’t tell me that!’
‘Ah bon, perhaps he forgot, as he did that van’s being so overdue, but where, please, is Madame Bolduc and your two nieces: Didi, wasn’t it, and Yvonne?’
Did he forget nothing? ‘The girls are at school, my sister at home.’
‘Hence Mademoiselle Jacqueline Lemaire. A beauty, n’est-ce pas? Trouble, too?’
‘And to what are you referring without any possible evidence?’
Damage control having momentarily lapsed, she was all too aware of this but still distracted probably because of the absence of that very one. ‘Me? I’m only searching for answers as to why she had to find him a priest.’
‘The Church … The Bishop, he is …’ Ah merde alors!
He would say it as if from the pulpit. ‘Being difficult since Madame Bolduc consistently gives plenty and refuses absolutely to allow the divorce to go through uncontested.’
She would toss the hand of inconsequence at such a thing. ‘Divorce has never been easy.’
He would give her a moment, then tell her how it was, since it had been done to stop the disgruntled and/or unfaithful wives of prisoners of war, or those prisoners themselves, from seeking such. ‘And under our Government in Vichy, forbidden as of 21 September 1940 unless, of course, the Maréchal Pétain, his advisors in Vichy, and the Bishop agree.’
Must he? ‘Oh for sure the Sûreté, they have never been pleasant, but with yourself, you compound it!’
‘Fortunately you didn’t need to worry about such a formality, since your husband “sleeps in his coffin.”’
Touché, the salaud! ‘Excusez-moi. I must find Jacqueline.’
Before she says something she shouldn’t.
To Yvonne who was now standing at the end of the dock, there was but dismay, felt Jacqueline, to Herr Kohler at the oars, the grin of the urchin he must once have been.
‘Wave,’ he said, ‘then she’ll know we’ll be heading back in a few minutes or an hour if necessary.’
‘You wouldn’t!’
Anger made her even more attractive. ‘I will, so start by telling me why that lover of yours felt those two Diamantenbonzen from Berlin needed to be escorted around the sights and probably free of charge?’
For whatever information could be pried out of them, but had it been a lucky guess? ‘I’ve no idea who you mean. How could I?’
‘That’s precisely my thought, but if your escorts are, why that would indicate you know far more than you want to let on.’
‘I don’t. Hector never tells me anything, nor does that one!’
Yvonne Rouget. ‘Aren’t Hauptmann Reineck and Leutnant Heiss overseeing that bank of his?’
And flying with him early on Thursday to the Côte d’Argent and Côte Sud des Landes for a little pot-shooting and to deliver the bank’s gift of a brand-new flying boat. ‘They are, but what have they to do with the other two?’
‘Since buying and fixing up cars at that garage of his to sell in the Reich shouldn’t matter? If one is in the know, isn’t the other, and since when would those overseers and the owner of a bank not be interested in diamonds?’
And that Sonderkommando whose roadblock to the east of Reims had led to the murders. ‘All right, I did offer to see that Ulrich Frensel and Johannes Uhl were shown the sights, but that really only started yesterday. It’s to be for a few days.’
‘Since they’re waiting around for those diamonds to be found.’
The black ones that Josef Meyerhof and others must have hidden in Paris, but Herr Kohler wouldn’t tell her who it was that Kommando were after. Indeed, though he might now have a name, not an alias, and even a photo, he might still be just rowing about in his own little lake, searching for answers.
Kohler knew he couldn’t jeopardize Anna-Marie by asking, but as sure as this one was facing him, she’d had an eye on that girl if only as a potential hostess. Nor could he ask about those vans of Bolduc’s ferrying PPF and Miliciens and others past the controls while smuggling stuff into Paris.
He’s at a loss for words, felt Jacqueline, and letting a hand trail in the water, playfully flicked some at him, since it was her turn to smile.
‘Maybe I should tell you what those two were up to before they were shot.’
Turning the boat, deliberately taking his time, he began to slowly head for the dock, she to finally say, ‘Well, tell me. Don’t just keep me waiting.’
Still he didn’t say a thing. He just looked and looked at her in that way of his as he rested the oars until, in anger, she heard herself blurting, ‘Damn you, were they chasing that girl? Is that why Deniard was hit on the forehead with a rock?’
It was Yvonne who caught the painter and tied the boat up, Yvonne who said, ‘We mustn’t keep Chairman Bolduc waiting.’
Notebook open, pen to its side, Louis was sitting at that table on the porch, having tucked into the hors d’oeuvres and facing Bolduc and Georges-Arthur Grégoire who was looking far from calm. Thin, greying, wise no doubt in keeping track of the bank’s vans and what they were up to, this operations manager waited for more questions, hands clasped, elbows on the table, a sure sign that he expected nothing but trouble.
‘Ah, Hermann, things are not as bad as thought. Mademoiselle, did you enjoy your little voyage?’
She was looking positively ill, thought Kohler, but Yvonne Rouget immediately went into damage control by yanking out the chair next to Louis. Indicating that Mademoiselle Lemaire should take it to avoid having to directly face detectives but her lover instead, she then took her own place with Bolduc and Grégoire on the other side of the table. To proceed wasn’t stated, but felt.
‘Only eight bundles of the 5,000-franc notes, Hermann.’
Two being from the poor box at Corbeny, five from Rocheleau’s sachel and one as grease money for Dillmann, thought Kohler, but now was not the time to mention this.
‘But forty-six of the bundles of hundreds, Hermann, eighty-two of those of the twenties, fifty-five of the tens and two hundred and three of the fives, for a total of 4,780,500 francs. The thieves must just have quickly grabbed whatever they could.’
‘Inspectors,’ blurted Jacqueline, ‘I must use the lavabo!’
‘Run!’ said Hermann. ‘And the insurance claim, Chief?’
Hand to mouth, she rushed off, alarm all too evident in the others. ‘Slightly more, of course,’ said St-Cyr.
These two, they’d strip away everything, felt Grégoire, interjecting quickly, ‘To balance things out, Inspectors, we always add a little. It’s accepted.’
‘Is it?’ demanded Hermann.
‘Thirty percent, mon vieux. We’ve yet to go over the rest, but there are olives from Provence that we missed, and this too. It brings tears. It’s the greatest of the blue cheeses. My Agnès had a terrible passion for it. Ah, excusez-moi, the first wife. I seem to keep thinking of her of late. There’s also some Picodon. This one’s either from Département of the Drôme or the Ardèche, the name itself taken from the langue d’oc. It means spicy.’
‘But indicates travel from much farther afield, eh,’ said Hermann, ‘and why is that, Monsieur Grégoire, given that those vans of yours have definite limits to their travel?’
Yvonne, as usual, had been absolutely correct, felt Grégoire, and now this madness of Hector’s was going to bring all of them down if not careful. ‘Deniard had relatives from Saint-Rémy-de-Provence who are now living in Paris. Perhaps if you were to ask them after the reception, they could tell you …’
‘Inspectors, can this not wait?’ demanded Bolduc.
‘Murders never do,’ said Louis, ‘but if I must, let me remind you all that this is most definitely a murder inquiry.’
With the Abwehr all but gone and worrying about its last days, the Höherer SS and Pol
izeiführer Oberg would have to deal with these two, felt Bolduc. Yes, Oberg and his deputy. The full force of the avenue Foch, even if he himself had to go down on the knees! ‘Then begin by telling us what happened at those ruins. Deniard hit squarely on the forehead before being shot?’
Hector would demand the obvious, felt Yvonne, therefore she would have to get him the answer he needed. ‘But hit by whom, Inspectors?’
‘And isn’t that the one Herr Kaltenbrunner’s Sonderkommando are after?’ asked Grégoire. ‘Well, isn’t it, and if so, who was it?’
‘Louis, I think I’d better visit the toilets.’
Clearly Bolduc was to be left out on a limb, felt St-Cyr, but care must be taken not to rush things. ‘Mademoiselle, messieurs, Hermann and me were able to pick up the trail of that van prior to its arrival at the ruins.’
‘Where?’ demanded Bolduc, his fists clenched.
‘Berru lookout where it was joined by the gazogène-powered truck in which rode the killer, and since both were carrying goods bound for the marché noir, perhaps you’d be good enough to tell us what had been arranged.’
‘Since the one, slow as it must have been, chased after the other only to find those two trusted employees of yours chasing after someone else,’ said Hermann, having hustled Jacqueline Lemaire back to the table.
‘Did they have a disagreement with that someone?’ asked St-Cyr.
‘A severe one,’ said Kohler. ‘It must have been. Mischief certainly. Rape, probably, so start talking.’
Had Jacqueline said something she shouldn’t, wondered Bolduc. ‘Me, I have no idea of what you’re saying. How could any of us? Deniard and Paquette wanting to fool around with whom?’
‘Tell them, Mademoiselle Lemaire,’ said Kohler. ‘If you don’t, I will.’
With but that look of his, Hector would destroy her if he could, felt Jacqueline, but she would have to answer, have to endure Yvonne’s faint and knowing smile, Georges-Arthur having unclasped his hands to place them flat on the table in judgement. ‘Annette-Mélanie Veroche.’
The stupid chatte would say it! thought Bolduc. ‘What the hell was that girl doing in one of my vans, Jacqueline? Come, come, let us have the proof of it.’
It was all over for her. Everything! Hector would kill her now if he could.
‘Well?’ demanded Bolduc.
‘Hitching a ride,’ said Louis, ‘but now that we have a name, mademoiselle, could we not also have an address and a little more?’
One must grin and throw out the hands in a gesture of goodwill, felt Bolduc. ‘Look, Inspectors, it’s really a very simple matter. Annette-Mélanie had to go home to Rethel last December to visit her mother who was desperately ill in hospital with pneumonia. You both must know how things are at the Kommandantur during the pre-Christmas rush. A day, two days, three probably in the line-ups and then the quotas, the turn-down. Me, I …’
‘Let her hitch a ride in one of your vans,’ said Louis, ‘so as not to have to bother getting the necessary ausweis: the laissez-passer and sauf-conduit.’
‘Was it the same van, Monsieur Bolduc?’ asked Hermann.
‘It was,’ said Yvonne, having laid a hand gently over those of Georges-Arthur which again had been clasped.
‘Then, I take it, that girl knew of both Deniard and Pacquet,’ said St-Cyr.
Somehow Yvonne and himself had to save the bank, felt Grégoire. ‘They would have recognized her, but neither Mademoiselle Rouget nor myself were aware of what was going on behind our backs.’
‘You …’ began Bolduc.
‘Monsieur, must I caution you?’ said Louis.
‘And is she the person that Sonderkommando are after?’ asked Hermann.
It would have to be admitted so as to gain time, felt Bolduc. ‘We have been led to believe so, yes, but have not yet said anything of it to others. Like yourselves, we have been trying to put two and two together.’
‘Good,’ said Kohler. ‘First by asking questions of those two overseers and friends of yours who are swimming in the know because they have to be even though the Abwehr is on the skids, and now by the two most recent clients of this one’s escort service.’
But did it go even deeper than that? wondered St-Cyr. There was only one way to find out, though not here. ‘Show them the letter from Kaltenbrunner, Hermann. Let them see that if they say anything of this matter to anyone but ourselves, the Reichssicherheitschef will hear of it.’
‘Inspectors …’ said Yvonne, taking the letter.
‘Save it,’ said Hermann, taking it back. ‘Mademoiselle Lemaire, the address of this person who must have witnessed the murders?’
Hector would be only too glad to see her body dragged naked from the Seine, she having been beaten, violated, all those things so as to but increase the gossip, felt Jacqueline. Georges-Arthur, he simply looked at and through her as though saying, You fool, and Yvonne as if, Salope, now you’ve really done it to that future ‘husband’ of yours, haven’t you? But there was her pride, most certainly. ‘Inspectors, let me show you since she lives in the very building where I have my office and have a file on each of my escorts, as well as every client that one has sent to me.’
Both Yvonne Rouget and Grégoire seemed relieved, felt St-Cyr, as they looked questioningly at their chairman who gave them but the cruelest of nods. ‘Then for now, we will break off this discussion. Be prepared to answer fully and truthfully when time—our time—allows.’
‘Jacqueline is far too upset,’ said Bolduc. ‘Perhaps if Yvonne were to …’
‘She can’t come with her, can she?’ said Kohler. ‘Since everything we do has to be kept a secret none of you had better reveal.’
It was Arie who took the stitches out and gave her a pair of light grey gloves from which he had cut each of the first joints and re-knitted them perfectly; Aire who said he was glad to see her back safely and that she was to keep the bike and leave it here if needed; Aire who asked if she had found things okay at her place.
There was no sign of Étienne.
‘He’s gone to move his wife and children. I told him he had to, that I’d stay to help you if needed.’
‘He’s not coming back, is he.’
‘We were going to split up anyways, but after what you said of Frans, we both knew he should get out of Paris while he could. This war, this Occupation is going to end, Anna-Marie. It’s months now, not years. It has to be, and when they’re kicked out, the Moffen will be far from friendly, and the locals, the collabos or not, every bit as bad. Stay clear of those who have been helping you. Go to ground as soon as you can. Don’t get mixed up in anything more. The SD, SS and Gestapo want you, and unless you’re awfully careful, they’ll get you.’
‘Is that really why you stayed?’
‘It is, and I still have the truck to take care of. I don’t know where Étienne’s keeping his family. I never did, not since the defeat. We had met before the war and had got to know one another, and then, having escaped from a prisoner-of-war camp in the autumn of 1940, he found his way to Rotterdam and we decided to do what we could. You’re the last of several and now if I could, I’d say let’s take in a film, but we both know what that could mean.’
Since the Occupier, the Paris Police and others regularly raided the film theaters to grab anyone they could for the Service du Travail Obligatoire and the wanted ones especially.
‘There is one thing I’d like to know. When we met up with that van at the Berru lookout, did those two know of you? Me, I ask only because I heard you suck in a breath and softly gasp, “Ah, no.”’
‘I recognized them, they myself, but I couldn’t say a thing because Frans had that pistol.’
‘You must have been terrified.’
‘I was. I had used that van before, but please don’t ask when or how. There isn’t time.’
‘Then tell me about Frans. Tell
me where he is and what’s to happen to him.’
‘Obviously I can’t answer but I can tell you those who have helped me are good people. Frans will be questioned, and I know I will have to be there. They’ve not insisted, you understand. They will simply expect it of me and I mustn’t do otherwise because that’s the way they are. “Tous pour un, un pour tous.”* It’ll be dark—it always is—and I’ll be using my own bike because I still have to get it, but could I come back here afterward?’
Since her concierge would question things when awakened. ‘Of course. Apoline will hear of it and think what she will and be delighted, but you’ll have to go and see her first thing in the morning. It wouldn’t be right not to. I can come with you, though.’
To back up whatever was said and Madame de Kerellec might think. ‘Then we’ll do that. Now I must head for the métro on foot and try to figure out what to tell my own concierge since I’ve only just arrived and he’ll not be expecting me to leave again.’
The métro … ‘And if they have posted photos of you?’
Impulsively he had reached out to gently take her by the hands causing her to feel what? wondered Anna-Marie, only to answer, In another place and at another time perhaps, but not now. ‘Just don’t wait up. Just leave the lock off and when I’ve brought the bike in, I’ll take care of it.’
Beekhuis knew he might never see her again and that if taken, she would try to keep the rue Vercingétorix from them for as long as possible.
Twelve hours was the wish, but few could hold out that long.
The file was easily located, the office tastefully finished, felt St-Cyr, even to having a more private room behind it: a home away from home or of the spur of the moment with a day bed, a settee, drinks’ cabinet and such just in case needed.
And this one? he asked himself of Jacqueline Lemaire. Bien sûr, she was ambitious but was she vindictive enough to save herself and sink Bolduc?
Having irritably lit a cigarette as soon as they had arrived, she sat pensively where her secretary had been, he having told the girl to come back in an hour, but he couldn’t have Anna-Marie finding him here. Concierge Figeard had been difficult and could well warn her he was not just in the building but in this office.
Clandestine Page 26