Where … where the hell were they? A bench, right out on the very point? Offenheimer behind her, the Van der Lynn woman on the grass in front of it?
So many ways, so many combinations. One shot. One dead Gestapo detective that was not wanted any more by his superiors. A naked ‘prostitute’ violated, ravaged – who’d care a damn if there was evidence so long as he himself was found with her, having ‘shot’ himself.
The bench was empty! Wet under the hand. The laughing of the water as it sucked at the quays was all around him.
Calm … he had to keep calm. Offenheimer, in spite of his having called the woman ‘Hilda’, had realized this and had used her for bait of his own. He must have killed the Audit girl. He must have raped her afterwards because a guy like this wouldn’t have had the guts to have done it while she breathed.
When his hand closed about her underwear, Kohler knew her clothes were scattered. He found a stocking, a garter belt … drew his pistol only to remind himself that if he killed Offenheimer he was as good as dead himself. Even von Schaumburg, much as he wanted to stop corruption in the ranks, wouldn’t come to the rescue.
Her ankles were tied. He touched a bare foot and felt the woman stiffen. Damn! She pulled away, struggled!
The bastard was sitting with his back to a tree and the woman firmly between his legs. Offenheimer would have a hand in her hair, the gun to her head, or the knife at her throat.
Quivering, Kohler backed away. The Captain cried out shrilly, ‘That’s enough! One more move and she dies.’
From out of the fog he snorted, ‘She’s nothing to me, you sap. She’s just another cunt to ram it into. Haven’t you realized that yet?’
Warm blood trickled down her throat to run between her breasts and she felt this through the waves of panic. The killer had twisted her hair, had twisted it and twisted it until she had had to arch her back and draw up her knees. Now this … this … A cunt!
The knife moved against her throat, the voice was shrill! ‘We have to talk, Herr Kohler. I did not kill the Audit girl. Brandl assigned me to the Schraum business. Lafont and Bonny found out about the House of the Silver-Haired and forced me to cooperate. An exchange of information. They were to get everything, all the loot.’
There was no answer, no sound from Kohler. The woman shrieked, ‘Gestapo pig, you Nazi bastard! Ah my hair … Hermann, my hair!’
‘I DIDN’T KILL HER, KOHLER! SHE WAS DEAD WHEN WE GOT TO THERE!’
Kohler steeled himself to give the Captain time. ‘Who threw the coins?’ he asked calmly from somewhere in the fog.
‘Lafont! In a rage – he always gets into them. The coins had been sent back to the avenue Foch by special courier from Stralsund. Oberg and Knochen got after him and told him to bring the girl in for questioning.’ The Captain dragged in a breath.
‘But she was dead when you got there, ‘ said Kohler from off to the left.
Offenheimer savagely yanked the woman’s head back. ‘Someone got to her first, I swear it!’
‘Who?’
‘We … we don’t know. Lafont blamed Paul Carbone, the Corsican from the rue de Villejust.’
Kohler’s voice now came from the right perhaps. ‘Who left that coin on the girl’s forehead? Hey, I don’t believe you. I think you killed her and then you raped her dead body. Was it fun, eh? Still warm.’
The hair was tightened. The woman stiffened in panic. ‘I DIDN’T!’ shrieked Offenheimer. ‘I SWEAR I DIDN’T! Nicole … Nicole de Rainvelle, she … she dipped the coin in the girl’s blood and … and placed it on the forehead.’
‘Why?’ The bastard was crying.
‘Because … because Pierre Bonny told her to do it, damn you! They knew by then that Oberg and Knochen had insisted you and St-Cyr be given the case. Bonny wanted to leave your partner a warning. Lafont is insanely jealous of Paul Carbone and would not listen to reason. I … I kept trying to tell him I didn’t think Carbone was involved, that it … it must be some other Corsican.’
‘And how did word first get out about the coins?’
The Captain sucked in a ragged breath, the woman gave a stifled gasp as pain leapt through her. ‘The girl must have shown one of them in the flea markets. People go there to -’
‘Ja, Ja, I know. To flog their valuables on the quiet. You turds all have informants in the fleas. It’s one of the ways you nail the big ones, eh?’
Where was Kohler now? ‘We … we think that at first the price wasn’t good enough, that the Audit girl really believed the coins to be of great value.’
Oona gave a piercing cry! He must ignore it! ‘When would this have been?’
Offenheimer lowered the knife to a breast. ‘Last summer. Early in June. She … she then showed three of the coins and … and that’s when Schraum first got acquainted. They must have argued, for the girl got angry with Schraum and was afraid he’d arrest her but …’
‘But the good Corporal let her go on the condition she agreed to meet him again.’
‘Yes … yes. He must have examined her papers. He … he must have been satisfied.’
Oona gave a sigh – one too deep, too deep! Kohler moved swiftly away. The bastard had to have a knife, otherwise he’d have taken a shot at him by now. ‘Did the Audit girl show Schraum her false papers?’ he sang out.
‘False papers …?’
‘She had an alias, dummkopf!’
‘I … I don’t know if she used it. I … I think she must have. About a month or so later he made contact with her again and this time she must have told him there was a very large collection and that her friend wished to part with all of it, preferably to one buyer.’
Kohler waited. Of fenheimer continued. ‘Early in September he met with the girl again in the flea markets of Saint-Ouen and this time she agreed to part with one of the coins as a sample. No money changed hands. The coin, we think, was to be returned if the price could not be arranged.’
Kohler cut the belt from Oona Van der Lynn’s ankles and this time she didn’t flinch, a bad sign – was it bad? Ah no …
Offenheimer stiffened. Kohler … Kohler …
Again the Gestapo’s voice came from a distance. ‘How many coins were there supposed to have been in the collection?’
‘Four hundred and eighty-seven. Enough to fill one of those Empire coin cabinets – we know this from the uncle in Stralsund. Schraum … Schraum must have told him of the cabinet.’
‘The coin went to Stralsund, to the uncle, eh?’ asked Kohler from off to the left again. ‘News of a fabulous collection that had never been reported to the authorities.’
‘That … that is correct. The uncle wired back that the coin was genuine and in excellent condition. Schraum was to enter carefully into negotiations.’ The woman gave a sigh and then a gasp.
Again Kohler steeled himself to her. ‘Did the uncle send the coin back as agreed or did greed get the better of him?’
Dealing with Kohler was like dealing with death! ‘The … the coin went to Reichsmarschall Goering.’ Where was Kohler now?.
‘Then what happened?’
‘They … they met, they negotiated. Again and again the girl said her friend wanted to be careful about things, that it wasn’t easy to get him to commit to a price but that he would be willing to part with a further sample.’
‘The thirty coins?’
Offenheimer yanked the woman closer. ‘Yes … yes, the thirty coins. By then we had all independently begun looking into Antoine Audit. We knew he had declared some of his valuables – a few paintings, some antiques. Most of his wealth was in his factories and in property. Bonny … Bonny thought Audit had hidden a great deal and wanted to search the caves in Perigord. Brandl felt there was much to be gained, but then the coins came back and Victor Morande was killed. We closed in on the girl only to find she’d been silenced, then … then Schraum himself was killed and …’
‘And Antoine Audit?’ asked Kohler from very near.
‘AUDIT HAS POWERFUL FRIENDS!’ shrilled Offenheimer. ‘Laval, the Premier; Lindermann a cousin of Martin Bormann, Herr Kohler. Bormann! Von Lindermann is the naval attache in Bordeaux. Perigord is … is in his department.’