by Pirate Irwin
“So I suggest you fill up your time till then and return either before the meeting or wait till it is over,” he said.
Lafarge had half a mind to actually attend the meeting, for it sounded as if it was going to be a valedictory one, which would make it all the more enjoyable.
However, he doubted he would be welcome and it could be seen as a direct provocation which was not wise in the presence of a group of sociopaths.
He could make a few calls, including one to von Dirlinger and also check in with Huariau to see if his man had reported any signs of suspicious comings and goings at Mathilde’s apartment block. He should also be able to fit in a cognac or two before he settled his account with Bousquet.
Lafarge thanked Leguay, without wishing him well for his future, and made his way to the door.
“Oh Lafarge I do hope this is the last time our paths cross, for it has been most tiresome having you chipping away at the model police force we were trying to implement.
“You’re a clever bastard, a fine detective. But you are a supercilious prick, whose head I would have gladly placed in a public square as an example to other policemen who were having doubts about following our path.
“You were never a horse worth backing because one didn’t know whether you would ditch your jockey or not,” said Leguay, not bothering to look up at Lafarge as he browsed through one of the files.
Lafarge shook his head in wonderment at this man’s lack of understanding of the independence of human nature and exited his office without giving him the benefit of a response, for if he didn’t see things clearly now then he never would.
Perhaps, Lafarge thought, that was why Leguay was the perfect deputy. An enforcer and yes man incapable of posing questions as to why the orders had been given and the morality of carrying them out when they were patently criminal acts.
Sadly for France there had been too many men of similar ilk.
*
Bousquet was neither chastened nor depressed when Lafarge finally gained access to his office three hours later.
His loyal special brigades chiefs had filed out stony–faced after a meeting which had finished with loud cheering and a rendition of the very English anthem ‘For he’s a jolly good fellow’, the irony not being lost on Lafarge as he sat outside.
He had not been idle himself while he waited to be summoned, arranging to have a drink with Drieu later that afternoon at the Flore as before, while Huariau had assured him nothing unusual had been going on at the apartment block. A final call had confirmed that von Dirlinger had been at his office. His tone had been friendly and he had willingly accepted to meet Lafarge the following evening at the apartment.
Lafarge was surprised to see that his old enemy – one of many he reminded himself – de Blaeckere was one of those who had attended the meeting with Bousquet.
He hadn’t changed much physically save that he wore an even more self–satisfied look on his face, one Lafarge hoped masked trepidation of the uncertain future, and flashed a venomous look at his troublesome Parisian acquaintance.
Lafarge smiled patronizingly back at him and resisted the urge to ask him if he had mastered his kidney problem which had manifested itself the day of the shootout in Limoges. Once that unwholesome gang had departed he was permitted entry to Bousquet’s office.
Bousquet was seated on the sofa, empty glasses and filled ashtrays surrounded him and Lafarge guessed that his outwardly confident look had been bolstered by alcohol.
His certainly had been as he had also made the time to drink three cognacs at the café on the corner opposite the headquarters.
Lafarge noted that Bousquet, who was as well dressed as ever in a chalk pinstripe suit, navy blue shirt with a yellow tie and gangster style spats, had retained his lean physique but while his face hadn’t aged he had dark patches under his eyes.
Bousquet did not shake hands but he did at least offer Lafarge a drink, which put him one up on the social graces of Mathilde and Leguay, but then that was relative.
However, things turned nasty from the outset as on Lafarge asking Bousquet if he would like a drink too, he declined saying he preferred to choose who he drank with and Lafarge was not on that list.
Lafarge shrugged, thought suit yourself it saves me having to carry two glasses, and sat himself down.
“In case you’re wondering how I came to be here at a time when I could catch you, it was Leguay who told me,” said Lafarge, enjoying seeing Bousquet’s annoyance at his deputy’s indiscretion.
“He was very forthcoming in fact once I told him that he was backing the wrong horse. It appears like many others he suddenly doesn’t want to know you Bousquet. Must be a lonely feeling,” said Lafarge, his tone totally devoid of sympathy.
Bousquet flinched at that, swallowed deeply and ran his tongue along his lip. Maybe he was regretting not having that drink after all thought Lafarge.
“Oh I don’t know Lafarge, I still have plenty of support from my men here and the grassroots officers.
“Those that followed me are not regretting for one moment my time in charge.
“As you could probably hear and then see for yourself as my chiefs left they are not very happy at the thought of my being replaced.
“So I am not gone yet. They can threaten me by murdering those closest to me but that does not mean I will submit to them and go meekly,” said Bousquet.
Lafarge quite admired his resilient attitude. It also pleased him for it meant that what he was about to say would have more of an impact as to whether Bousquet stayed or stepped down. He could after all land the knockout blow.
“So Lafarge I imagine that your return from the professionally dead is down to your father and that old man ensconced in his fantasy world in Vichy.
“I also would guess that you have come back for only one reason, to resolve the murder of that actress, Marguerite Suchet. Of course most people have forgotten about her by now, I mean really her talent was minimal and her films even with the support of Alfred Greven and Continental flopped.
“But you are incapable of letting it go. It’s as if you were her lover and not von Dirlinger,” he said, his eyes flickering like a snake.
Lafarge did not appreciate the remark but let it drop as he prepared to disassemble Bousquet’s cocksure attitude.
“Well let me wipe that grin off your face Bousquet.
“I am here to arrest you in connection with the burglary of Baroness Marchand’s jewels in 1942, a charge that if convicted would see you serve a minimum term of eight years.
“Of course that might just be the aperitif. By the time you are contemplating freedom the war may be over and you will inevitably have to face trial for far worse crimes, for which the penalty is as I am sure you are aware death,” said Lafarge trying not to look smug.
Bousquet’s grin disappeared as Lafarge had hoped it would, but in its place did not come one of resigned acceptance but one of fury, his face going a light crimson.
“You will, however, be relieved to learn that I will not be pressing a charge of murder on you, for lack of evidence,” Lafarge added.
“You really are out of your mind Lafarge. I thought you were already crazy when I took the decision to have you leave the force last year, but sadly that spell in the south has not brought you to your senses.
“I am still police chief and you cannot walk in here and accuse me of something so, what would one say, risible, yes risible, as being an accomplice in a burglary.
“Why would I risk my career for something quite so absurd? Also I don’t need the money, so where is the benefit for me in all of this?
“No Lafarge you spent too long in that train with de Chastelain and listening to his fanciful tales. I will let this go if you just get up and leave now,” he said his eyes narrowing into slits.
“Sorry Bousquet I won’t be doing that. I will leave once I have your promise that you will resign, I mean perhaps we could come to an arrangement over why you stepped down but step down yo
u will.
“Everyone that matters wants you out now. The Germans are fed up, which should be enough for you, and even Leguay is looking to leave. The game is up Bousquet and you appear to be the only one unwilling to accept that,” said Lafarge, pleased with how he was not wavering from his line despite the intimidation.
Bousquet appeared to be taken aback by Lafarge’s attitude and not a little bemused by his confidence.
He stood up, Lafarge thought somewhat unsteadily, walked to the drinks cabinet and fixed himself a drink whilst he brought the bottle of cognac over to the table and placed it in front of Lafarge. He slurped down a large measure of his drink and lit a cigarette.
Lafarge decided now was the time to finish him off before Bousquet could fight back.
“If you think that de Chastelain is my source then you are wrong.
“As he is now out of reach I had to look elsewhere and I found myself a reliable witness. That person can attest to the fact you were at Marguerite’s flat the night of the murder and more crucially that you were involved in the burglary.
“Unlike de Chastelain this witness will not be going anywhere until after the case is brought to court.
“I don’t think there is a move you can make to extricate yourself from this Bousquet,” said Lafarge.
Bousquet drank the rest of his drink and sat back on the sofa, stroking his shoes with his hand. He sat for several minutes considering his options and eventually sighed and took a deep breath.
“Such stupid things we do us humans huh Lafarge?
“Everything is in place for a comfortable and fruitful career, happily married with a child, and then what an apple is dangled before one.
“An apple that one shouldn’t dare touch let alone look at, and yet like a fool one does and from doing so you bring ruin on yourself.
“Maybe it was the thrill of being involved in something which was clearly wrong and believing I was untouchable. Also other matters were of more importance to the police than a burglary of some middle–aged aristocrat! Well I was sorely wrong about that,” he grinned sourly.
“I had the misfortune to have the two detectives, who I couldn’t control, stick their noses in and from the moment Lescarboura was arrested I knew that trouble lay ahead.
“It didn’t help that von Dirlinger decided to play the maverick and have de Chastelain warned off appearing in court. Then to cap it all that stupid hysterical cow gets herself killed and that brings you onto the scene.
“Having put one detective in his place over the Lescarboura arrest I wasn’t in a position to interfere with your being in charge of the murder enquiry, so I made it look as if I had asked for you to lead it.
“However, I do not know where you got the idea from that I was responsible for the murder. I was close to throttling her that night as she threatened to come clean about the whole affair if Lescarboura wasn’t released.
“I told her there was no way I could organise that as it would look suspicious. First de Chastelain disappearing and then the man he was due to defend being released when there was clear evidence linking him to the burglary.
“She couldn’t see it that way and so I left. She was very much alive.
“Of course but for the stupid mistake of leaving the cigarette case there I would not have been directly implicated. Nobody, not even you, would have asked questions if I had occasionally poked my nose in and made helpful suggestions such as looking into de Chastelain as a potential suspect.
“As I said I wasn’t especially keen to have you anywhere near it but Massu likes and respects you and wouldn’t countenance you being removed, so I relented.
“The problem is that you are too independent and I was preoccupied with other matters so I let you go too far before trying to rein you in.
“Our mutual animosity meant that I was never able to cajole you to put your foot on the brakes.
“Von Dirlinger reprimanded me on several occasions over that but I dismissed him as some sort of lightweight aristocratic playboy going all wobbly.
“I may be right about that, but he was correct about my having let you wander off the ranch and being unable to bring you back in. That was of course until you came back from Limoges and without going over that ground again gave me the reasons to get rid of you.
“I always expected you to come back, one of your few characteristics I admire, because I share it, is that you are persistent.
“You are fortunate too that your timing was good because with the murder of Sarraut regardless of my determination to continue it is clear that as you say they, the Germans, want me removed.
“Well so be it, and to be honest I am quite welcoming a rest, for this period of almost two years have been exhausting, time to take a back seat,” he said his voice quavering.
Lafarge could see that despite Bousquet’s act of contrition, and his sudden enthusiasm for stepping down, his eyes were brimming with tears, which he quickly wiped away, while his hands were shaking ever so slightly.
He had little sympathy. For him these tears were those of a man angry with himself for having been unable to control the one case that could bring him down, and for failing to see that to the Nazis he was not their equal and he had served his purpose.
The tears were not for the thousands of people – not just foreign Jews but French as well for in the end religion overrode any sensitivity to their nationality as was the case with the communists – he had had rounded up and sent to the camps in eastern Europe.
Lafarge was certainly not going to begin to lecture him over that, for he had already had his fill of self–justifying excuses from his father and Leguay.
The next step was to stand over Bousquet and get his resignation written down and signed, for without it he could quite easily renege on his pledge.
“Right Bousquet get your secretary in here now and we can finish this in an honourable way,” said Lafarge.
Bousquet looked furious but he accepted that now there was no alternative if he wished to save some face and also avoid a prison term.
So wearily he got to his feet and went to the door and called in his secretary telling her to bring pen and paper.
He took his place behind his desk, as it was probably the last time he would conduct official business from it, and dictated his letter of resignation, impressing Lafarge in the way he managed to keep his emotions in check.
He wondered whether this was the same tone of voice Bousquet had used when issuing the orders to round up the foreign Jews, if so it said it all about the coldness of the man. His secretary looked stunned but in her efficient and orderly way she had the letter typed and ready for his signature in 10 minutes.
At that point Bousquet called Leguay and Massu and asked them to come to his office.
His Special Brigade chiefs, including de Blaeckere, trooped back in to the same office they had only left an hour before believing their boss was staying on.
They all looked on with disbelief as Bousquet told them that he had rethought his decision and decided in the interests of unity and the future of Vichy’s relationship with the Nazis he was after all going to resign.
His unprepared speech Lafarge noted was delivered again in a neutral tone, his voice never faltered until right at the end when he extolled the virtues of the French police force during his time in charge and that he regretted nothing.
This earned a rousing cheer from Leguay, who may have had his bags packed but still showed some loyalty by turning up to his mentor’s farewell, and the Special Brigade leaders, though, they were in effect cheering themselves, while Massu applauded politely. Lafarge remained seated.
Bousquet then told them all to leave except Lafarge, and as they departed Massu asked to see him afterwards.
Lafarge said he would try but he had an urgent appointment on the other side of the city. Massu repeated his request and for once made it sound like an order, to which Lafarge nodded and said he would be there as soon as he could.
He didn’t sta
y long, taking advantage of the cognac for what he knew would be the last time, only to wait for whatever Bousquet wished to say to him.
Bousquet had also helped himself to another drink, returned to his desk, sat down and put his feet up on the fine mahogany–topped surface.
“Well Lafarge I believe this is the last time that either you or I will be in this office, also I think this is the last time that we will see each other.
“You seem very confident that the Germans will not win the war, I remain unconvinced. But should we both survive it and you see me on the street one day, please cross to the other side because I fear what I might do to you.
“I may have resisted the urge to throttle Marguerite Suchet but I would not for one instant show such restraint if I see you. Goodbye Lafarge,” said Bousquet and with that he waved him towards the door.
Lafarge left without saying a word, a broad satisfied grin on his face.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Drieu strolled into the Flore about 10 minutes after Lafarge had arrived, dressed aptly for the cold evening, with an overcoat topped by a fur–lined collar. Fascism might be losing the argument in the war but Drieu's fortunes economically hadn’t taken a similar pounding judging by his appearance.
He greeted a couple of high ranking Wehrmacht officers before sitting himself down at the table Lafarge had taken, which in summer would have been on the terrace but was covered in winter. It gave them a good view of those passing by and more importantly for the detective, those coming in.
He had had the impression he had been followed from the Quai, but then dismissed it as him being neurotic.
“So let me say it is an honour to be in the presence of Bousquet’s executioner!” said Drieu, a sardonic smile spreading over his face.
“News travels fast, how the hell do you know?” asked Lafarge, aggrieved he couldn’t tell his friend the news first.
“Christ you think news like that stays within the Quai? That it will only be known after a radio broadcast by Laval? You are being naive if you believe that,” said Drieu.