A light knock at the door was repeated.
‘Entrez, ma chère,’ he called out, assaulting the ears as he quickly leaned over the table to whisper, ‘A little nourishment in a house where not a morsel can be spared.
‘Mrs. Parker, how many times must I tell you I have eaten, that the journey was far from long and tiring, yet still you never forget?
‘A little soup, Inspector. Blow on it. Don’t burn the tongue. We’ll share, the two of us. It’s best that way. Friends at once. Comrades.’
Urging that the soup be dealt with, he took her hands in his and ran big, work-worn fingers gently over the backs of them before nodding. ‘Twice each day. You’ve been very good about it.’ His whole being was intent on her and her alone. ‘But still a little more is needed, don’t you think? Once on waking, after the morning’s wash and a good dry. Not too rough now, you understand? First warm the towel over the stove, then pat lightly with it. Give the healing every opportunity but use the lotion only twice. You’ve marvellous hands. A fountain-pen maker’s daughter, Chief Inspector. Remarkable instruments I first encountered as a boy when wounded Americans were brought here to these very hotels and were writing letters home. The Treaty of Versailles was, I believe, signed with a gold one President Woodrow Wilson donated.’
Colouring, this spokeswoman blushed at the recognition and, taking one of the burlap sacks, quickly fled the room to softly close the door.
‘One tries, Inspector, to find that most responsive chord. She has, I believe, no relation whatsoever to that family but dreams of it.’
And before coming here the brother had found out all he could about Hermann and him. ‘Don’t touch the soup.’
‘Ah, mon Dieu, you can’t think she would poison me? Not Eleanor.’
‘Perhaps, but did she fill that canister whose smell, unless I’m mistaken, is far stronger than it should be?’
‘Datura stramonium is very bitter and needs masking. In India they mix the seeds with curry, or with figs or dates but not to kill, only to incapacitate so as to rob or rape.’
A well-read man. ‘Just don’t eat or drink anything but what you’ve brought yourself or can get in the guards’ canteen.’
‘Surely you must have been made aware of the brush with which I’ve been tarred? With that cloak of mine reeking as it does, I would be most unwelcome in that canteen and subject to both verbal and physical abuse.’
‘Welcome or not, the warning is clear.’
‘And I, the healer, knowing each of the inmates intimately, must have much to tell you.’
‘But plainly our killer or killers can’t allow it.’
Filling the tin cup, the Brother drained it. ‘The soup is perfectly fine, Inspector. All my life I have dreamt of this task God has prepared for me, and now again I must rise to its challenge.’
5
Kohler noted the ripe smell that emanated from the room in which this ringer of bells sat with Louis. Closing the door, he leaned back against it to block all exit while lighting yet another of Madame Chevreul’s cigarettes.
‘A nothing monk, eh, Louis, who stinks to high heaven? Comes here hot on the heels of two detectives to have a look at them and see what’s up? Made sure our first victim had the eggs, milk, and cheese the child inside her needed yet helped her try to abort the mistake? Always brought the former Kommandant a little something to grease the wheels. Was full of juicy gossip that he embellished for Colonel Kessler’s benefit. Ein Spitzel, ja?’
‘Herr Kohler. . ’ began Étienne.
‘It’s Herr Hauptmann Kohler to you, my fine one, or Herr Detektivinspektor Kohler, and don’t forget it.’
‘As you wish, but what makes you think I wasn’t acting on Colonel Kessler’s requests? He was fully cognizant of Mary-Lynn’s mistake, as you put it, and that her health, as that of everyone herein, was in jeopardy. Could he not have asked me to do both?’
‘Feed her and abort her without telling her he’d asked you to?’
‘Hermann. . ’
‘Louis, let me handle this one.’
‘He wasn’t the father, not in so far as I knew, Herr Kohler, but if you must make that assumption and think what you will without further evidence, so be it. And as for my coming here today, I was late on Friday and couldn’t attend to all who needed my presence.’
A smartass and defiant as well. ‘Then understand, mein Lieber, that Untersturmführer Weber has it in for you. If not a charge of dealing on the black market, then one of bribing the former Kommandant into letting you come and go at will.’
There was no response. ‘Have I rung his little bell enough, Louis, or do we need more?’
The cigarette was remembered and passed to his partner.
‘Merci, mon vieux,’ said St-Cyr, ‘but he has already informed me that he believes his days of coming here are numbered.’
‘If I’m not first poisoned,’ said Étienne with a shrug. ‘But Herr Weber has it in for the Senegalese as well, has he not, Herr Hauptmann und Detektiv Aufsichtsbeamter?’
‘Ach, sprechen sie Deutsch?’
‘Is Alsace not just on the other side of these hills and mountains or have I been mistaken all my life?’
‘Louis. . ’
‘Doucement, Hermann. Brother Étienne has many to attend to and very little time.’
‘Madame Chevreul, eh?’ asked Kohler, still not budging.
‘The one who blasphemes by claiming the goddess Cérès speaks through her?’ demanded Brother Étienne rising to the bait.
‘The very one.’
‘Schlaflosigkeit, mein lieber Detektiv Aufsichtsbeamter. Schlaflosigkeit.’ Insomnia.
That did strike this belligerent Gestapo in the balls, thought Étienne, but had Élizabeth said the opposite? ‘After one of her so-called séances the Lord, I know, will forgive, Madame Chevreul is so excited sleep will not come since the goddess, still having her ear, keeps on pouring it at her.
‘She dreams, Inspector Kohler, if you will allow me to use a shortened title for you. She awakens with a start at some sudden revelation only to drift off until interrupted again by another juicy bit of news. In desperation this humble monk before you has prepared infusions of betony and skullcap; of lady’s slipper, oats, and skullcap; a decoction of mistletoe, lime flower, and hawthorn; and infusions of lemon balm, hyssop, and lavender, and yet again, a tincture of St. John’s wort. Though she has repeatedly begged me for a stronger sedative, and such things can become addictive and are oft-dangerous, I now have her on a tincture of valerian before bed, and an infusion of it with mistletoe and skullcap, but she is not, I repeat, to take too much of either.’
‘Like the thorn-apple seeds you gave Madame de Vernon?’
‘Hermann. . ’
‘Louis, how many times must I tell you never to interrupt a member of our glorious Führer’s Gestapo when he’s in the process of questioning a murder suspect?’
‘Madame de Vernon, Herr Hauptmann?’ said Brother Étienne, reminding him and ignoring the accusation.
‘The very one.’
‘Is a hypochondriac that would try the patience of Saint Bénédict himself. If not the headaches, the migraines; if not those, the neuralgia and/or the rheumatism-I never know ahead of time, you understand: the shoulder, the hip, the spine, the knuckles of the left hand. Did you know she used to play the piano for the ballet studio her ward attended in Paris? Ah, I thought not. Currently I have her on a tisane of the Herb of Grace.’
‘Ruta graveolens, Hermann. It’s good for many complaints not just neuralgia and rheumatism. Brother, why the extra datura?’
They had every reason to want an answer, though temptation demanded that one not be given; however. . ‘She rightly claimed that the dried leaves and stems stank, but of course, having hung the bunch I had given her above her bed, would not listen and insisted that I powder and bottle them. This I did, but she claimed they were not enough. Since the contents can and do vary from leaf to leaf, not just from plant to plant, I was forced to let her use a little of the powdered seeds as well, but of course she then demanded more of those than I felt safe. The war, she said, the uncertainties of it. I might be called away and not allowed to return-what would she do? The child would have an uncontrollable spasm and die. Inspectors, can it be that you have yet to encounter Madame de Vernon? If so, let me tell you that one can only surmise she has been put-upon and is very angry at what the world and life have dealt her.’