Fat Cat grinned. “You don’t think I’m going to let you go to Madame Blanchette’s alone? She always had the most beautiful girls in Paris, and usually I can’t afford them!”
***
Madame Blanchette herself greeted them after the maid had opened the outer door and taken their hats and coats. “Monsieur Xenos, how good of you to come. It has been a long time.”
“It has been a long time.”
“Come with me into the grande salle,” she said, taking his arm. “We have a very special entertainment tonight. You will see what you have been missing by not paying us a visit.” She dropped her voice to a whisper. “After the entertainment you will go with the Eurasian girl. No other.” Then her voice returned to its normal level. “You look very well.”
Dax smiled. “And you, madame, are even more beautiful than I remember from my first night in Paris.”
“La,” Madame Blanchette replied, “you have grown into a galant as well.”
They entered the grande salle, where a small trio was playing in the corner. Ringed around the room were small conversational groupings of couches, tables, and chairs. Each formed a small nucleus of its own, giving an impression of intimacy.
The conversation stopped for a moment and Dax felt many eyes turn to him. He glanced around the room. Of the twenty-odd men in the room Dax guessed that fifteen were German, despite the fact that not one of them was in uniform. The hum began again as Madame Blanchette led him to a small sofa near the center of the room. As they sat down, a waiter hurried to fill their glasses with champagne. Dax raised his to her. “A votre sante, madame.”
“Merci, monsieur. A la votre.”
They drank. “There are many Germans here,” Dax said in a low voice, “but no uniforms.”
“I do not permit uniforms. C’est une maison du plaisir. The war must remain outside.”
The conversation faded as the girls began to drift in. There was much heel-clicking and bowing and hand-kissing as the Germans endeavored to be polite and Continental, but they were too stiff, too military. They were much too preoccupied with their roles as conquerors to successfully play the galant.
Dax got to his feet as a girl approached the table. She was small with startling tawny green eyes in a faintly Javanese face. Long black hair framed the golden ivory of her face.
“Mademoiselle Denisonde, Monsieur Xenos.”
The girl held out her hand. “Enchante, m’sieur.”
Dax kissed her hand. “Mademoiselle Denisonde.”
The girl sat down next to him on the couch. Madame Blanchette clapped her hands sharply and the lights suddenly dimmed, then went completely out. For a moment everything was in darkness but in a moment the great chandelier in the center of the room began to glow.
Revealed in the center of the parquet dance floor were two men and three girls—nude and frozen in a tableau of bizarre intertwining arms and legs. For a moment Dax was conscious only of the beauty of the slim lithe bodies, then suddenly he became aware that all were coupled together in sexual embrace. None of them was without a partner. From the corner came the slow persistent beat of a drum, then gradually the throb of a plucked bass amplified the pulsing sound as slowly the tableau began to come to life.
Despite himself Dax stared in fascination. Whether the passion displayed was real or simulated did not matter. The pure sexuality of the act was one of the most exciting things he had ever witnessed. He felt the pain rise unbearably in his loins. The girl’s hand searched him out but he was almost unaware of her touch; his only involvement was with the actors playing out their little tableau in the center of the floor.
Almost when the agony had become exquisitely unbearable, the room plunged once again into darkness. There was a moment of complete silence. Abruptly the girl withdrew her hand as the lights came back on. Dax blinked his eyes.
All over the room, men were doing the same thing. They were returning from a secret world of their own. They avoided each other’s glances until they were once more in control of themselves.
Madame Blanchette rose to her feet. “Gentlemen,” she said with a faint smile, “I trust you have enjoyed our little performance.” She waited, still smiling, until the applause died down. “Now I leave you to your own pleasures.”
Regally, like a queen taking leave of her subjects, she left the room. The door closed behind her and the hum of conversation began again.
Dax looked at the girl. “Now?”
She nodded.
He got to his feet. The girl took his arm and as they started to leave the room a voice stopped him. “Herr Xenos?” Dax turned. “General Foelder.”
The general smiled. “I did not realize you knew this place.”
Dax returned his smile. “How could I not know it? It has been just down the street from the embassy for years.”
“Join us for a drink.”
“No. Thank you, another time.”
“Ah,” the general said, “you hot-blooded South Americans. You can’t wait.” Dax did not answer.
The officer’s voice lowered. “Not that I blame you. These decadent French know how to appeal to our sensuality, don’t they?”
Dax nodded.
“By the way,” General Foelder continued, “please accept my apologies for any discomfort my men may have caused you the other day. Overzealous youngsters, you know. I reprimanded them thoroughly.”
“I felt certain you would, General. That’s why I did not bother to call you. I am aware how busy you are.”
“The matter is taken care of.” The general looked at the Eurasian girl. “I say, that’s an interesting bit you have there. She must be new.” He turned to the aide sitting next to him. “You must arrange a rendezvous for me.” He spoke as if the girl did not exist. “You know how much I admire the exotic.”
He looked at the girl again, then at Dax. “I envy you, my boy. I shan’t keep you any longer.”
Dax bowed. “Auf Wiedersehen, General.”
The girl nodded and they walked out of the room. Madame Blanchette turned from her peephole in the wall, and for the first time Dax saw her angry.
“That pig of a Nazi! The decadent French, indeed! Until the Germans came there was never the need for such circuses in my place!”
Dax looked at her quizzically. “You do not have to keep open, you know. I’m sure you don’t need the money.”
Madame Blanchette shrugged. “Once a place like this closes, it never opens its doors again. The Germans will not be here forever. When they are gone we will once again go back to being our quiet little selves.”
Dax followed the girl up to the second floor. She stopped in front of a door and took out a key. Then with a quick glance to see that no one else was in the corridor, she opened it quickly and pushed Dax inside. Not until she had locked the door behind her did she turn on the light.
Dax looked around the room. It was elaborately furnished with a four-poster bed on a raised platform. The curtains around it were drawn. Quickly he crossed over and pulled back the curtain. The bed was empty. He looked at the girl. She shook her head. “No, follow me.”
She took him into a small closet. In the confined space, he could smell the muskiness of her perfume and was aware of the warmth of her body. He saw her fingers searching along the wall. Suddenly the back part of the closet slid open and he found himself in a small windowless room. In a moment the wall closed behind them and she turned on a small lamp.
It took a moment for Dax’s eyes to adjust, then he became aware of a man lying on a narrow cot against the unpainted wall. “Denisonde?”
Quickly Dax was at the side of the bed. He knelt beside his friend. “Robert?”
Robert moved again and groaned. Dax noticed the wound in his shoulder. He heard the girl behind him, and he looked up. “What happened? How did he get here?”
The girl’s face was impassive. “We were lovers once, now we are friends. There was no place else for him to go.”
At the sound of her voice,
Robert opened his eyes. “Denisonde,” he whispered, “get Dax. We must help Caroline!”
“Robert, I’m here.”
Robert looked around, and Dax saw the raging fever in his eyes. “It’s me, Dax.”
It was as if Robert could not see or hear. He moaned again. “Denisonde, I saw them take Caroline away. Get Dax.”
20
“We shall take care of him,” Madame Blanchette said. “It’s mademoiselle you must worry about.”
“But Robert needs a doctor.”
“The doctor sees him every morning when he comes to examine the girls. He will be all right. As soon as he is well enough we will get him to England.”
Dax looked past her at Fat Cat, then at the girl kneeling by the side of the cot. With all of them in the tiny room there was scarcely room to turn around. “I think it would be better if we went outside.”
Madame Blanchette nodded, and Fat Cat and Dax followed her through the closet into the other room. He turned as she closed the door. “Madame, I owe you an apology.”
Madame Blanchette smiled.
“Now, about Caroline—Mademoiselle de Coyne. Is there any way that you might help me?”
The woman shrugged. “We know a few things. Whether they will help or not I do not know. She was arrested by General Foelder’s staff, so we can assume she is at his headquarters.”
“But the general’s headquarters are in the Royale Palace Hotel.”
“In the second basement they have installed a security prison. Chances are you will find her there, but if she is, there is no way to get to her except through the hotel itself.”
“Is there any other place she might be?”
“She might be at the prison of the secret police, though I doubt it. There is no love lost between Himmler and Foelder, but in Paris everything comes under Foelder’s command.” She sat down on a small chair. “Perhaps we may know more tomorrow. The general is spending the night here.”
Dax thought for a moment. “I don’t think we have to wait that long. I spoke to the general as I was leaving the grande salle. He told me the matter was closed. Since we know he doesn’t have Robert, it must be Caroline he is holding.”
“It sounds logical, monsieur.”
“There must be some way we can make certain.”
Fat Cat suddenly said, “I forgot to tell you that earlier this evening, your friend Sergei called, from his father’s office. He said he would call you again in the morning.”
Dax stared at him. Sergei’s father had an office in the Royale Palace Hotel. He would surely know about Caroline, and though he might not be willing to talk to Dax, he would certainly tell Sergei. But would Sergei be willing to help?
***
Sergei looked at Dax. “You have changed.”
“So have you,” Dax retorted. “Only the dead never change.” He reached for one of his thin long cigars. Before he lit it, he offered one to Sergei, who shook his head.
“I was sorry to hear about Sue Ann.”
Sergei’s eyebrows went up in surprise. “You knew?”
Dax nodded. “A friend of mine ran into her in Lisbon. She was on her way home.”
“That’s right.”
“Are you upset?”
Sergei thought for a moment “No, not really. It had been coming for a long time, ever since the baby was born.”
“I gather the child is with you. My friend made no mention of a baby.”
Sergei smiled humorlessly. “The baby is retarded,” he said bluntly. “Sue Ann feels the fault is mine. So…” He held out his hands expressively. “The baby will be all right in time.”
Dax was silent for a few moments. “Perhaps it’s just as well. At least you won’t have to face one another and torture yourselves every day.”
“What about you?” Sergei asked. “There was talk about your marrying el Presidente’s daughter when you were in Corteguay. Now there are rumors about you and Giselle d’Arcy.”
“Talk.” Dax smiled. “People must always have something to talk about.”
“I know. But you didn’t ask me over just to make small talk, did you?”
“No.” Dax carefully put his cigar down in the ash tray. “I’ll make it simple. The day before yesterday, the Germans seem to have taken Caroline de Coyne into custody. I suspect she is being held prisoner in the basement of the Royale Palace Hotel, which General Foelder has converted into a private jail. I intend to get her out.”
Sergei let out a long whistle. “You don’t ask for much, do you? How do you expect me to help?”
Dax relaxed. He picked up the cigar again. The mere fact that his friend hadn’t said no reassured him. “Your father’s headquarters are in the same hotel. I must know where she is. Exactly. Then what I must do to get her out.”
“And what if my father doesn’t know, or won’t tell me?”
Dax shrugged. “Then we’ll have to find another way.”
Sergei thought for a moment. “All right. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks.”
Sergei smiled as he got to his feet. “Don’t thank me. The De Coynes are my friends too.”
Two hours later he was back in Dax’s office. “Why didn’t you tell me she was being held under suspicion of being involved in a sabotage ring with Robert?”
Dax looked at him. “I didn’t know.”
Sergei stared back. “That’s a damn serious matter.”
“Have they proved anything?”
“No. They’re still questioning her.”
“That’s the end of it then. A week of their kind of questioning and she’ll be ready to confess to setting the Reichstag fire.” Dax slumped down in his chair. “Then I gather your father didn’t tell you where she was?”
“My father told me exactly where she was. He also informed me who was in charge of her case, and the one way we could possibly get her out.”
Dax stared at him. “I don’t understand. Why would he do that?”
“Don’t you know who owned the Royale Palace Hotel?”
Dax shook his head.
“Baron de Coyne. He was the only man in all Paris who would give my father a job when we came here from Russia.”
Dax was silent for a moment. He put down the cigar carefully. “So, how do we get her out?”
“It’s really quite simple, old man. You’re the key to getting her out.”
Dax was puzzled. “Me?”
Sergei nodded. “The Germans are very anxious to make that beef deal with you. Everyone of them has been ordered to put himself out for you.”
“I still don’t understand.”
Sergei took an envelope from his pocket and placed it on the desk. “In that envelope are four passes to visit Caroline. All you have to do is to walk in there with a priest and two others to act as witnesses. You marry her, then go upstairs to my father’s office and demand that he release your wife. He’ll sign a release.”
“But what about General Foelder? Won’t he have to approve it too?”
“Foelder left for Berlin this morning. Something’s come up with Himmler and he’s gone there to straighten it out. Until his return my father is commanding officer.”
“I’ll need two witnesses,” Dax said thoughtfully. “Fat Cat can be one of them but—the other?”
Sergei got to his feet quickly. “Don’t look at me. You ought to know better.”
Dax nodded thoughtfully. Sergei was out because of his father. It would be too direct a link. “I’m not thinking of you.”
“I’m sure you’ll find someone,” Sergei said, “you know how the French love weddings.” A faint smile came to his lips. “And may I be the first to offer my congratulations?”
***
“You can go to hell!” Giselle shouted.
Dax stood there quietly as she crossed the room. “What kind of a man are you anyway?” she demanded. “You ask me to be a witness to your marriage? Don’t you think I have any feelings?”
“If I thought that, I wo
uldn’t have asked. But you were the only one I dared even suggest it to.”
“Great,” she said sarcastically. “How would you like it if I asked you to be a witness at my wedding?”
He stared at her for a moment. “I wouldn’t like it. But that’s not what I’m really asking you to do. I’m asking you to help save a girl’s life.”
“Why should I care about her?” Giselle retorted. “What does she mean to me? I don’t even know her.”
“She’s French. And the Germans have her. Isn’t that reason enough?”
Giselle didn’t answer.
“Or has Georges finally got you over on their side?”
She looked up at him. “I love you, Dax. Did you know that?”
He nodded silently.
“Don’t you think I wanted to marry you?” she asked. “Why didn’t you ever ask me, Dax?”
He held her gaze steadily. “I don’t know,” he answered slowly. “There always seemed to be so much time. I wish I had.”
He saw the tears come into the corners of her eyes. “You mean that, don’t you?”
He nodded. “I’ve never lied to you. I wouldn’t start now.”
She buried her face against his chest. “Dax, Dax,” she cried. “What will happen to us now?”
He stroked her hair gently. “Nothing. Soon this will be over, then things will be as they were before.”
“No,” she whispered. “Nothing is ever the same when you come back to it.”
***
They got to their feet as the matron opened the door and led Caroline into the small room. “You have fifteen minutes,” she said curtly in German, then closed the door behind her.
Caroline stood there trembling, blinking her eyes at the light. “I don’t know anything,” she whispered. “I’m not lying. Please, don’t hurt me anymore!”
Dax glanced at the others. Fat Cat and the priest were staring at Caroline, but Giselle was looking at him. He turned and walked over to Caroline. He reached out his hand but she shrank away. “Caroline, it’s me, Dax. I won’t hurt you.”
She shook her head violently. She blinked her eyes, trying to focus. “I don’t believe you. It’s a trick.”
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