The giant hovered at a discreet distance, but the woman made no move to dismiss him. Nor did she give any indication that she noticed Catherine, Edmond, or Hélène. She came straight toward Monsieur Laval and held out a hand as delicate and white as new porcelain.
Hélène watched as Monsieur Laval shook her hand. He held it gently, with a grace Hélène was unprepared for.
The woman was very short and had to look up to him. 'Monsieur,' she said. Her singsong voice was high-pitched but clear. It was then that Hélène realized that the crystalline laughter she had heard was hers.
Politely Monsieur Laval inclined his head. 'Madame Chang,' he said in a respectful voice, 'it is good of you to see me.'
She bowed her head. Without prologue she said, 'Monsieur, I know you are here because you are in trouble. Do not misunderstand me; I will help you if I can. However, I want to know absolutely nothing about this trouble.' Her voice was still soft and delicate, but her tone was now brusque and businesslike. It was almost as if a chill wind had touched upon the most delicate of blossoms. 'Do we understand each other?'
'Perfectly, madame. Your discretion is both wise and highly appreciated.'
She looked up into his eyes. 'Now. What is it that you wish me to do?'
Monsieur Laval gestured toward the children. 'They need a safe place in which to stay.'
Madame Chang's face was impassive. 'That is not such an unusual request. But you realize, Monsieur, that I cannot be expected to close my establishment for the night. Not because of four children.'
'I realize that,' he said.
'Good. Then we understand each other.' Her almond eyes bore into his. 'How long do they need to remain here?'
'Until tomorrow sometime. I shall return and take them elsewhere.'
She nodded. 'It is settled, then. But remember. I shall expect you to pick them up no later than three o'clock in the afternoon.'
Monsieur Laval practically prostrated himself with a profusion of thanks. 'Madame is too kind,' he began. 'An—'
Madame Chang held up a hand to silence him. Hélène noticed that her fingernails were long and lacquered red. 'I must have one guarantee,' she said.
They all stared wordlessly at the woman.
'They must keep very quiet,' she said. 'The older ones are capable of keeping the baby silenced?' She looked questioningly at Catherine.
Catherine nodded gravely.
'Very well, then.' Madame Chang turned to the giant. 'Take them upstairs to Gisele's room.'
Wordlessly the giant bowed. With his hands he motioned the children to follow.
Hélène hesitated and glanced beseechingly at Monsieur Laval. He was the only familiar face in these strange surroundings, and the thought of being separated from him terrified her.
He noticed her reluctance. 'What are you waiting for?' he asked. 'Go. . .go along with him. I will pick you up tomorrow afternoon.'
She looked at him skeptically. 'Is that a promise?'
He nodded. 'I promise. Now, do not worry. Everything will be all right.'
On an impulse, Hélène flung her arms around Monsieur Laval and gave him a massive hug. Then, just as suddenly, she disengaged herself from him and followed the giant. Edmond and Catherine walked behind her.
Catherine was feeding Marie from a makeshift bottle when Edmond spoke to Hélène. 'You better be careful. You could fall out the window.'
She ignored him. Gisele's room was in the attic and had a dormer window. By standing tiptoe on her bed Hélène could look out over the jagged rooftops. Night had fallen and it was almost pitch black out.
'Have it your way, then,' Edmond said. 'See if I'll help if you start to fall.'
'Children,' Gisele warned. 'Keep quiet! Madame Chang doesn't want you to make a sound!' She glanced at Edmond and patted the mattress.
He made a face but sat down obediently beside her on the edge of the bed. Hélène could feel the mattress shift under his weight. It had good springs.
After a few minutes she left the window and joined them. It was too dark out to see anything anyway. From below she could hear a piano playing, and several times there were shrieks of high-pitched laughter. It sounded like a party going on.
Gisele said she was one of twenty girls in the house. Right now she would normally have been sitting downstairs with the others, waiting for clients to arrive. But she was having her 'delicate condition,' and Madame Chang wouldn't hear of her girls working during those times.
Gisele was tall and full-breasted. She just missed being pretty. Her misfortune, she lamented, was her torso. It was too short-waisted for her to ever hope for a lean, elegant figure. She would forever seem to be slightly dumpy. Her large breasts made her look more like a woman in her early twenties than the seventeen-year-old girl she actually was. A year ago she had come to Paris from the suburb of Auteuil. Ever since then she had worked for Madame Chang.
There were certain advantages for the girls who worked at Madame
Chang's. The pay was good and, unlike the rest of Paris, which was starving, there was always enough food in the larder here. But best of all, a girl who worked here could afford a pretty wardrobe. That was an almost unheard-of luxury.
Some of the other, more beautiful girls had luxurious high-ceilinged rooms and clothes designed by the most expensive couturiers. Jocelyne, Gisele said, almost reverently, was the most ravishing and highest-priced of them all. Men who could afford her claimed she was the most sensational creature in all of Paris. But to afford her, a man had to be able to part with six thousand francs for one hour. A fortune.
'I'm getting bored,' Edmond grumbled. Gisele's story did not interest him.
Hélène nodded. 'Me too. I hate just sitting around here doing nothing.'
Gisele thought for a moment. Then her face brightened. 'I know what!' she said. 'I'll sketch all of you! Would you like that?'
Edmond made a sour face.
'I'm quite good, actually,' Gisele said quickly. 'That is, as long as you promise to sit still. Let me get my sketch pad.' She hurried over to the dresser, where she kept her pad and a supply of blue-leaded pencils. Then she made a production out of moving one of the chairs to just the precise spot she wanted. Finally satisfied, she sat down in it and faced them. With a frown she studied the children one by one. Then she motioned Hélène to sit still. With deft strokes of the pencil, Gisele began to draw.
Hélène sat in self-conscious silence and watched Gisele's hands. They were small, the fingers too stubby. They were capable-looking hands, but a far cry from Madame Chang's exquisitely lacquered claws. Hélène wondered if all short-waisted people had little hands.
Edmond cleared his throat, and Hélène glanced at him. The moment their eyes met, he began to make funny faces. Hélène started to giggle.
Gisele shot her a warning look. 'Sit still!' she said angrily.
It took Gisele a half-hour to draw all four. Then, with a sudden fanfare, she held up the sketches. 'What do you think?' she asked eagerly.
Hélène studied them closely. They were quite good, and she recognized Catherine instantly; it was her spitting image. She was disappointed by the way she herself had turned out, though. She thought Gisele had drawn her too young and sweet, and it wasn't at all what she saw when she looked at herself in the mirror. Edmond's was a pretty good likeness, but then again, it didn't really look like him. The nose was all wrong and the eyes were set too close together.
Gisele looked at Hélène. 'Well?' she asked.
Before Hélène had a chance to voice her opinion they heard footsteps in the corridor and then a knock on the door. Catherine jumped and turned toward it, a frightened-animal look in her eyes.
Gisele smiled gently and patted Catherine's hand. 'Don't worry. It's only Roland.' She got up, put the sketch pad back in the dresser, and unlocked the door.
The black giant came inside carrying a tray. On it were several domed lids with steam escaping from under them. He set the tray down on the dresser and left.
&n
bsp; 'He's not very friendly, is he?' Hélène asked when he was gone.
'Why do you say that?' Gisele asked.
'Well, for one thing, he never says a word.'
'That's because he's a mute,' Gisele said. 'He cannot talk.'
'Oh.' Hélène was curious. 'How come?'
Gisele shrugged. 'I do not know.'
'But he can hear us and understand us?'
She nodded, walked over to the dresser, and lifted the domed lids off the tray. Billowing clouds of steam rose from the big platters as the delicious aroma reached Hélène's nostrils. Her mouth fell open. It had been a long time since she smelled anything so mouth-watering. Suddenly she forgot all about Roland the giant and his lack of speech. She was ravenous.
Gisele spooned the food onto gilt-trimmed china plates. Hélène stared at her helping with wide-eyed wonder. On her plate she had thick slabs of beef with a mushroom sauce, steamed green vegetables, and potatoes. She looked over at Catherine's and Edmond's helpings. Figuring that they were older and had bigger appetites, Gisele had piled their plates even higher. And as if all this were not enough, a plate of petit fours had been included for dessert. For a moment Hélène closed her eyes and savored the aromas of the food. Then she wasted no time in attacking it.
Hélène was wide-awake. Groggily she looked around, trying to figure out what had awakened her. She listened carefully. Then she heard it again. Someone was gently tapping on Gisele's door.
Slowly her night vision adjusted to the darkness. She glanced over to the bed and could make out Gisele as a sound-asleep shadow. On the comforter spread out on the floor, Catherine, Edmond, and Marie were still curled up, fast asleep.
Again Hélène heard the tapping, a little louder this time. She wondered whether she should answer the door, but Gisele had reprimanded her when she tried to go out and use the toilet and had made her use the chamber pot behind a screen. The door had to stay locked at all times. The order had been emphatic.
Hélène turned to Edmond. For a moment she hesitated, then shook him awake.
He sat bolt upright. 'What the—'
Hélène clapped a hand over his mouth. 'Sssssh!' she whispered. 'There's someone at the door.'
He cocked his head to listen.
Again the tapping. This time it must have reached through Gisele's shroud of sleep. She moaned and lifted her head off the pillow. 'Go away,' she called out in a sleepy voice.
'Gisele!' a woman's hoarse voice called softly. 'It's me! Jocelyne. Open up! I need to talk to you!'
Gisele moaned again and sat up. 'Oh, all right,' she said grumpily. She stretched wearily and rubbed her eyes. Then Hélène heard the bedsprings creak as Gisele swung her legs over the side.
Edmond and Hélène lay back down as Gisele stumbled over to the door. By the time the key turned in the lock, the children's eyes were closed in pretended sleep.
The door creaked open and weak, flickering yellow light shone into the room. Whoever was standing out in the hallway was holding a candle.
'Jocelyne,' Gisele said in a whisper. 'What are you doing out there? What time is it anyway?'
'Almost four o'clock,' the throaty voice replied.
Gisele shook her head. 'What do you want at this unearthly hour?'
'Sssssh.' There was a pause. 'Are they asleep?'
'How do you know about them?' Gisele's voice was guarded.
'Simple. I saw two of them going up the stairs yesterday afternoon. I know that there must be more. There were far too many little footsteps. Besides, I saw the dinner tray being brought up.' Hélène saw her trying to peer into the room over Gisele's shoulder. In the shimmering candlelight she caught sight of the most extraordinarily beautiful woman she had ever seen. She was tall and blond, and under the voluminous pale blue chiffon of her peignoir, her figure was voluptuous but slender. 'Come on, Gisele,' Jocelyne coaxed. 'Let me in for a moment. I have to see them.'
Gisele shook her head in exasperation. 'Why? There must be a reason.'
'All right, all right. I'll tell you.' Jocelyne looked around conspiratorially and her voice dropped an octave. 'There may be money in it for both of us.'
'Money?' Gisele's voice sounded explosive in the night.
'Sssssh!' Jocelyne hissed. 'Don't wake them up! Just let me in to see them. I'll tell you about it later.'
Gisele placed her hands on her hips. 'Suppose you tell me now.'
'Oh, all right. One of my visitors tonight was that Standartenfuhrer who's so crazy about me.'
'Yes, yes. The bald regular. I know the one.'
'Well, he told me they're scouring Paris for four kids.'
'Four kids?'
Four kids. Hélène felt a shiver slither down her back. Beside her, Edmond stiffened.
'Yes, four. An older boy and a girl, and a little one of seven or eight. Plus a baby.'
'But why should the SS be out looking for children?' Gisele asked.
'They're killers.'
Gisele laughed. 'Killers? Those sweet little darlings?'
'Don't be fooled.' Jocelyne's voice was serious. 'They're killers, all right. They shot a Boche yesterday. There were two of them, but only one came out of it alive. He told the story, and now there's a reward out for information leading to their capture.'
'A reward?'
Jocelyne nodded her head vigorously.
'How much?' Gisele's eyes flashed greedily as she glanced toward the children.
Jocelyne was silent for a moment. 'Half a million francs.'
'Half a mil. . .' Gisele sucked in her breath. 'Good God! That's a fortune!'
'And half of it would be yours,' Jocelyne said quickly. 'Just think! A quarter of a million francs apiece. We could go out and get three, maybe four dresses at the couturiers'. . .. Now, are you going to let me in or not?'
Gisele still hesitated. 'But Madame Chang—'
'Madame Chang need never know. Trust me. I can arrange that.'
'But—'
'But nothing.' Jocelyne smiled faintly. Gently she reached up and touched Gisele's face with slender, tapered fingers. 'And another thing, darling. I've seen the special way in which you constantly watch me. I can tell, you know. You don't want the men. You prefer the women.' The smile was wider now. 'But that's no crime. I myself am sometimes attracted to other women. Maybe I will even let you come down to my room.' The air was heavy with promises.
Gisele's voice was a choked whisper. 'Come to your room. . .?'
Jocelyne nodded. Slowly she parted the front of her peignoir. Her breasts were as firm and perfectly shaped as a Greek statue's. Hélène heard Gisele gasp.
'And not only that,' Jocelyne continued in a lilting voice. 'I will let you do whatever you want.' She paused. 'I will even part my legs for you so that you may eat my ecu.'
With trembling hands Gisele pulled the door wide open and stepped aside. 'Come in,' she whispered.
Jocelyne swept into the room. Edmond poked Hélène. They both closed their eyes simultaneously and he began breathing regularly, as if in a deep sleep. Hélène copied him and snored gently. A moment later she could feel the women's presence as they came close and shone the candlelight over them. She could smell Jocelyne. Lavender.
'Is that them, do you think?' she heard Gisele whisper.
'They seem to match the descriptions, all right,' Jocelyne whispered back. 'I'm certain it's them.'
Then Hélène heard them move away, and she ventured to open her eyes. The women were back at the door.
'Jocelyne. . .' Gisele's voice was a tremor.
'Yes?'
'I want to come with you down to your room. Now.'
Jocelyne looked at her in surprise. Then she smiled and took Gisele in her arms. Noisily she kissed her on the lips. 'Come along, then. But you'd better come back up here in an hour to check up on them. Besides, I have to get some sleep. I have to go and see the Standartenfuhrer first thing in the morning.' She shuddered. 'He'll probably insist that I lunch with him at that horrible cafe on the Champs-Elysees.'<
br />
Then the door snapped closed behind them. Once again the room was in total darkness. Hélène waited for the key to turn in the lock, but in her haste Gisele must have forgotten about it.
Edmond didn't speak until their footsteps receded in the hallway. Then he sat up straight as a board. 'Wake up Catherine,' he ordered grimly. 'Then get dressed.'
Hélène sat up. 'A half million francs!' she said. 'Imagine! There cannot be so much money in the world.'
'Hurry!' Edmond hissed at her. There was no mistaking his tone; obedience was called for.
He was on his feet already, tiptoeing over to Gisele's nightstand. After fumbling around in the darkness, he found what he was looking for. Hélène heard the scratch of a match and then saw the flame leap up. By the time he had the nightstand candle lit, she had already shaken Catherine awake.
5
Their progress was tedious. The alley was unlit, and several times they slipped on the treacherous ice. There were no streetlights; electricity was too precious a luxury. Paris got only one-half hour of it each evening.
Hélène shivered from the cold and pulled the collar of her winter coat up around her chin. The temperature had plummeted during the night and her coat was not thick enough. Her ears stung from the cold and she needed a cap.
On her left, Catherine trudged along in stony silence. In her arms, Marie was a small, quiet bundle. The sudden exposure to the cold couldn't be doing her any good, Hélène thought. It was dangerous to expose a baby to sudden cold.
It was even more dangerous to be caught out on the streets after the midnight curfew. They had heard enough stories from Michelle to know what happened to curfew violators. Any Frenchman caught by the night patrols was taken to the Feldgendarmarie headquarters. There, either of two things happened. If they were lucky and it was a peaceful night, the curfew violators would spend the night polishing the Boche's boots. If they were not so lucky and the Resistance killed a German during the night, the curfew violators were the reprisal victims. They would be shot by a firing squad.
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