‘Well, at least we now know why she didn’t use the trains on her way back to Paris.’
‘Do we really?’
‘Ah merde, don’t be difficult at a time like this. Instead of those, it’s a passeur at heavy cost, a firebox feeder with an antique megot tin, and a killer who empties his victims’ pockets only to have that passeur-and it must have been him-toss everything into the fire.’
Hermann always liked to hurry. ‘Shouldn’t we ask ourselves first, did someone warn her of the photos and even pay for the trip? After all, this is a girl who can’t have had a lot of money.’
‘Agreed.’
‘Now let’s deal with that passeur, the firebox feeder and the other one, but before he became the killer.’
‘Mein Gott, must you?’
‘I’m waiting. I need your help.’
‘She would have been hidden in the back of that truck, would probably never have been allowed up front, but came to feel that something was terribly wrong, and when she saw a chance, left that gazo to walk ahead alongside the road to that van where she cajoled a lift. She’s again a blonde, has blue eyes, was young, et cetera et cetera, so she took those shoes out of her suitcase and put them on to add further spice and give a bit of extra height.’
‘Ah bon, merci, you’ve got all the answers, but wasn’t she wearing a poultice, probably on the hand or forearm? Also, mon vieux, since when have we ever seen any woman in high heels walking alongside any of our roads for very far? France really doesn’t have as many of the paved Autobahnen as the Organisation Todt built for the Reich in the 1930s and are still building.’
‘That van and truck were relatively close. They’d have to have been.’
‘Bon, now let’s ask why they were close, and more importantly, Hermann, why had they stopped, since they must have.’
‘A control.’
‘Which would, I think, have worried both vehicles.’
‘A long line-up, but not yet at any entrance to the city. Simply on one of the main access roads. Maybe the RD 380 to the east of Reims.’
‘Perfect. Except for isolated lookouts and fortresses, it runs through dead-flat farmland, but what would have made her do such a desperate thing since she or someone else must have paid plenty to get her into Paris?’
‘Oona said that one of those three rijksdaalers had earth on it and was wrapped in a bit of paper.’
‘A note, Hermann?’
‘Probably, but Oona was so terrified she’d be found out, she didn’t try to read it.’
‘But were those coins being left as a signal to Herr Ludin by someone with the passeur, someone that one and his firebox feeder shy; didn’t know everything about? Places that the killer and Ludin would have known of beforehand, and that Standartenfuhrer also?’
‘Since they’d been following because that killer would have told them of the route, and like crumbs in a fairy tale, had attached a note to one of the coins, telling them that she could well be onto him. Ein Spitzel, Louis?’
An informant. ‘But one of those coins wouldn’t have been left at l’Abbaye de Vauclair since that stop would not have been on the schedule.’
‘And Ludin didn’t even bother to get out of the tourer to have a look.’
‘A traitor, Hermann, though maybe not a prisoner of war from the Dutch Army, but are we still missing something? Has it been too easy so far? Two vehicles, both heavily loaded with goods in part at least for the marche noir, the passeur using that as cover, the other simply to line the pockets or those of someone else.’
‘And is that not why the killer did what he did?’
Good for Hermann. ‘Because they couldn’t be left alive, could they, but did that passeur agree beforehand and order the killings or come to accept the haste with which they were done but only afterward?’
Ach, mein Gott, trust Louis! ‘The killer thus proving how reliable and loyal he was, but that girl would never have accepted it, would she, and must have kept quiet for fear he would kill her too.’
‘And if so, Hermann, is now even more terrified.’
‘They then staged the robbery to make it all look like that but failed because they took only what could never be used to identify them. And as for that gazo of theirs, they don’t need to use this entrance to Paris and probably won’t. They’ll simply wait and let things cool down, then use one where they know there are those who will let them in for a price because they’ve done that lots of times. They must have.’
‘And that, Hermann, is why I think Herr Ludin took it upon himself to break Herr Kaltenbrunner’s strict order of silence. He and that SD colonel really are desperately in need of help, though the latter of them might not have sanctioned what the former wanted Oona to see.’
‘Along with the constant cigarettes and repeated swigs of bitters.’
‘Me, I just wish I felt more confident and that we weren’t missing something vital.’
To the rue de Crimee in the 19th, in La Villette at 0532 hours, came the awakening of Paris as it dragged itself through the icy fog and darkness. So numerous were the streams of bicycles, their lamps were as fireflies. Ever-present were the shouts, curses, cries of alarm and urgent ringing of bells, some so close St-Cyr knew he could open the side window of the van, as he had to clear the rearview again, and touch a cyclist.
Pungently ersatz perfume, unwashed bodies and tobacco smoke, this last of dried leaves, herbs and the roasted carrot tops of desperation, rushed in on the air. The traffic was insane. With occasional trucks and far fewer city buses, there were well over 1.5 million bicycles and bicycle taxis in the city, to say nothing of the countless pedestrians who tended to ignore all rules since there were so few cars.
Finding Anna-Marie Vermeulen’s Opinel in his coat pocket shy; wasn’t difficult. Opening it, he laid it on the seat. Unless he was very wrong, Ludin must have felt that the sooner she was arrested shy;, the better, and that must be why, in spite of there being so few private cars, two of them were following the Citroen. He had better shy; have a word.
‘Hermann, I’ll just deal with the car behind you.’
‘And the one behind it, Louis.’
To the fog there was but the usual, the lack of soot and exhaust fumes evident. So thick, though, was the darkness, those in the first Peugeot four-door didn’t acknowledge him until the driver’s side window had been opened a crack.
‘Ah bon, merci. Are we near the intersection with the rue de Flandre?’ he asked.
There were four of them in the car, the escaping fug of Gauloises bleues but a reminder.
‘Fous-moi le camp, vache!’
‘What’s that you’re saying? “Bugger off, cow,” when all I want is directions? Get out. Get out now! St-Cyr, Surete.’
‘Suck lemons.’
‘And difficult, too, is it? These days I would gladly if I could, but I’ll ask the ones in the car behind, shall I, and then we’ll settle the matter?’
There was no response, the window simply being closed, which meant of course that they were all armed and had egos to bolster. The next side window, however, was calmly rolled all the way down, the words and accent nonthreatening, at least for the present. ‘What can we do for you, Inspector?’
‘It’s Chief Inspector, but are we near the intersection of the rue de Flandre?’
‘If you already know, why ask?’
Such politeness had to have a reason. ‘You wouldn’t have a spare one of those, would you? Two, actually.’
‘Shall I light them for you?’
‘That would be much appreciated.’
All this time, bicycles streamed past, their bells sounding one crisis after another, along with urgent shouts for him to get out of the way, but there wasn’t the sharply intent flame of the usual lighter fuel of gasoline. Instead, it was of the long-remembered, but one thing was for sure: that accent wasn’t French. He had seen this one before, but where, and did that then mean that extra troops had been brought in?
‘You’re heading where?’ asked the donor.
‘The Banque Nationale de Credit et Commercial. It’s address is on …’
‘We can read.’
‘Who told you to follow?’
‘All we know is that something big is coming to town and that you and that partner of yours have been brought in on it.’
‘Radio-trottoir?’
Pavement radio. ‘Our ears are constantly tuned. Aren’t yours? Here, take the package. We’ve lots.’
Hermann would have advised leaving things as they were, but Hermann had Oona to think of and they had, of course, to first take care of her and not let these others know where.
‘Merci, I’ll continue to lead the way, shall I?’
‘Of course. An entourage.’
‘Excellent!’
Stepping quickly back and in among the oncoming cyclists, he did the unforgivable and shoved the first to come along against the car. Another and another gave cries of dismay, he driving the Opinel into both of that car’s front tires, the altercation continuing with the opening of its doors as the headlamps were shattered by the butt of a Lebel 1873.
The front tires of the lead vehicle followed and then its headlamps.
‘Now I’ll deal with the velo-taxi you missed,’ said Hermann, taking a first and welcoming drag and handing the cigarette to Oona to hold for him.
‘Later, mon vieux. Later. Let’s give them a bit of distance, then you to the left, me to the right and we’ll squeeze its driver between us and find out who they’re working for.’
It didn’t take long, and when Hermann finally found him waiting with the van in place Vendome before the shop Enchantement, he took Oona from the Citroen to that door and, ringing its bell, got the lecture of his life from Giselle, who quickly pulled her inside and slammed the door in his face.
Alone again, they shared a cigarette even though they still had the extras.
‘Rudy de Merode,’ said St-Cyr with evident dismay, for the so-called ‘Neuilly Gestapo’ was but one of at least ten major gangs of gestapistes francais operating in and from Paris, Lyon and other cities and towns. Back in the summer and autumn of 1940, the Occupier had needed purchasing agencies as well as Frenchmen and women to watch the French. Deliberately, the Abwehr, the counterintelligence service of the German High Command, had let far too many gangsters and others out of jail and put them to work they enjoyed immensely. Given the directorships of some of those purchasing agencies, for the Reich had needed, and still did even more so now, vast quantities of nearly everything France could supply, they had done that as well as a lot of other things and continued to but with even more determination. And the unfortunate thing was that far too many of them had been put in prison by himself.
‘Apparently, Hermann, word came through to those pavement listeners of a control on the RD 380 just to the east of Reims last Tuesday and Wednesday. A very determined SD colonel who wouldn’t listen to anyone but himself. Every truck, car or wagon was ripped apart, no matter the lineup, even though it was at the start of the vendage and the grapes needed pressing. Every other entrance to Paris was also placed on the same alert.’
‘Which still continues, and since de Merode and his gang have been sniffing the air, we can assume the others have. Merde, this isn’t good, Louis.’
‘And they’ll all want to hear the reason first from herself before turning over what’s left of her to Kriminalrat Ludin who, with that colonel, must have been following her and that gazo and its crew since the Netherlands.’
‘Just what the hell is she carrying that’s so goddamned important Kaltenbrunner would demand absolute silence? A girl who’s only in her early twenties?’
‘We have to be missing something, Hermann, including the name of that last one I just met. I’ve heard and seen him before, but where?’
‘It’ll come to you. It always does.’
‘The pseudo-robbery of a bank van whose driver and assistant willingly gave a lift to a complete stranger, no matter how vulnerable and tempting?’
‘Did she know of them, Louis? Did they of her?’
The question of questions, for if so, it implied a whole lot more. ‘And when both vehicles turned off the RD 380 to avoid that control, did she look back to gratefully see the distance between them steadily increase and think she had got safely away?’
Only to then discover something else. ‘Monnier won’t open until 0900 hours.’
* The Royal Dutch Aviation Company used Douglas aircraft, one of which was ‘mistakenly’ shot down by a Luftwaffe fighter over the Bay of Biscay in June 1943.
* In early August 1944, eight German soldiers were ambushed in Aubervilliers and shot, the first such major incident in what was to become known as the Battle for Paris.
* A pocket flashlight activated by pumping a thumb lever.
* The Dutch fascists, the Nationaal Socialistische Beweging.