Kohler had crammed his chair into the corner and was leaning it back against the wall, relaxing. ‘Remind if you wish, but eat, please, since the croissants are fresh and sharing a meal always brings people together.’
He couldn’t have known of garde champetre Rocheleau’s similar offering, felt St-Cyr, but there it was, his own comment to Hermann at that time as well.
‘Me, I have the coffeepot on here at all times,’ went on Bolduc gregariously while buttering himself a croissant and adding the jam. ‘This is made with honey. Whenever time allows, and there’s little of it these days, I love to work on my car. I also own the building, of course.’
‘And those other cars-are you a collector?’ asked Kohler.
A laugh, a grin, a smile would suit for they would probably have already figured it out. ‘All are being cleaned up for resale in the Reich by Hauptmann Reinecke and Leutnant Heiss who have that duty also. We here are simply doing the necessary, as we have now ever since the hostilities between our two nations ceased. Gasoline is in such short supply in France, few can afford to keep them, so the cars, they are unbelievable bargains, but what can one Frenchman do, eh? Object or simply repair them to at least take in that amount of cash?’
Bought at next to nothing, thought Kohler, they’d be sold for at least 8,000 marks or 160,000 francs for a tidy profit, especially if those bank overseers pocketed half the sale and said nothing about others they were selling on the side, since they’d be the ones to do all the necessary paperwork even if Abwehr. No doubt about it, Bolduc was in deeply, for he’d have a cut of that as well. ‘Business has been good, has it?’
Refilling Hermann’s glass, Bolduc then hunkered down with forearms on the table. ‘Listen, you two, I can buy just about anything and everything I want. I knew absolutely nothing of what those two employees of mine were up to, so please don’t try to attack my reputation and bring disgrace down on my bank.’
The cognac was excellent, felt St-Cyr, the jam and croissants perfect, the coffee that little added touch. Taking the worn pair of dice that had been with him since joining the Surete, he would begin the necessary by tossing a seven or an eleven. ‘Monsieur, is it that you know so little of what goes on with your bank, you would ignore the news Oberfuhrer Wolfgang Thomsen and Unterstrumfuhrer Ludwig Mohnke brought to Paris on Thursday after discovering the bodies? Two much valued employees, both with bad eyesight but no glasses, which is a puzzle, is it not? Cash-how much was there on the manifest, Detektiv Inspektor Kohler? Remind me.’
‘I didn’t count what was left of it, Chief, but 65.25 million francs in 42 bags, for starters.’
These days everything was a gamble. ‘First, I wasn’t informed of the robbery and the killings by anyone, especially the two you’ve just mentioned. Secondly, as to that amount of cash, it was the end of the month and our friends like to pay in cash when they buy the champagne and other things we French are only too willing to sell, so is there a problem?’
Snake eyes had turned up far too early. Gathering the dice, Louis gave them another toss. ‘When information is demanded, monsieur, it’s necessary for you to answer completely and truthfully, especially since this is first and foremost a murder enquiry. Bad eyesight, was it?’
Yvonne must have told them. ‘Both Deniard and Paquette were called up but rejected, and since the bank needed them, is there still a problem?’
Probably but … ‘Charges will have to be laid regarding the black-market dealing, there’s no question of it. It’s only a matter of who gets them, the lampistes or the big dealers.’
Underlings were often convicted to soothe the press and the public, but the courts seldom touched others, it being too difficult, they knowing far too many who would speak for them. ‘Kohler, you’d better caution this one. The Banque Nationale de Credit et Commercial is not in the business of the schwarzer Markt and never has been. Mein Gott, you two, what’s a few things? Deniard was probably thinking of his mother who is always bitching about how hard it is to get things. Paquette would simply have gone along with him. It’s an isolated incident. Set it aside for the sake of the families. I’ll have the boys here take whatever it is over to the Hopital Quinze-Vingts for the blind. They’ll be more than delighted and we’ll let the whole affair lie.’
Yet another pair of snake eyes didn’t help. ‘Louis, I think he’s got a point. Why lay more grief on the families when they’ve enough to handle?’
‘It’s a matter for the courts, Hermann.’
Had Kohler seen something he shouldn’t? wondered Bolduc.
‘Louis, he didn’t have anything to do with it and we’d never be able to prove otherwise. Let me talk to Boemelburg. He’ll clear it, no problem, then we can just deal with the murders.’
Merde alors, what was this? wondered Bolduc, refilling Kohler’s glass. Cash was certainly not being hinted at, not with these two who were known for their honesty and the trouble they could cause, but perhaps Kohler had seen that he would simply go to the Hoherer SS Oberg, since the bank did have its friends and Oberg was definitely not one of theirs. ‘You should get yourself another pair of dice, Chief Inspector. Those are so worn you keep tossing the same things.’
A seven and then an eleven landed, but was Bolduc now willing to back off himself? ‘Dice are far too scarce. Last year’s Aktion for the Reichsmarschall Goring purchased thousands of pairs including, if I remember it correctly, 877,000 decks of playing cards.’
And all for German armaments workers to brighten their Christmases, thought Kohler, along with equal numbers of nailfiles, clippers, combs, bottles of hair lotion, pipes and pocket knives, and good for Louis. Bolduc had been distracted.
‘Monsieur,’ said St-Cyr, ‘we understand that the van was due back here on Thursday but that you felt the bank should give Rene Deniard and Raymond Paquette a little more time.’
And damn Yvonne for having said such a stupid thing. ‘As I’ve already told you, Chief Inspector, it was an end-of-the-month pickup. Sometimes our branch managers need a little extra time simply because our major clients, all of them businesses, need it to tally the cash and get those deposits in.’
‘Three days of it?’ asked Kohler.
‘It’s a Saturday, is it not?’
‘Two days then, assuming that they wouldn’t have arrived back in Paris until just before midnight Thursday.’
These two were dangerous. ‘I was very busy with other matters and might have tossed off the comment. Besides, such a responsibility is always delegated.’
And Yvonne Rouget was bound to hear of it a little later.
Out in the courtyard while waiting to be given a lift back to the bank, since Gregoire was to take care of listing everything in the van, including the cash that had been left, Hermann turned his back on the garage and, keeping a hand well out of sight of any chance watchers, opened it to what he had collected.
It was a mousetrap with a once healthy mouse, the cheese still firmly in its jaws. ‘Let’s hope he was convinced, Hermann, and that he doesn’t empty the storeroom or rooms before we can have it done for him. His set-up is admirable and he must have all the dealers and underlings he needs, and certainly those three days of extra time suggest that he knew far more about that van than admitted, but for now, me to Monnier with the shoes and on foot, you to the Citroen and then to Oberfeldwebel Dillmann.’
Unlocking the back door of the van, Kohler simply said, ‘I’ll just take a few things and a little Schmiergelder to open that one up, but will write it all down.’
Shoe-saver, with the painted storm clouds and fork lightning, would do, felt St-Cyr of the velo-taxi he would hire.
Plucked from the place de la Bastille’s stand, Henri Vincent looked this one over, for Surete was written so clearly it would not have influenced the judgement had the vache been naked. ‘Six francs the kilometre, ten if it’s too far.’