Engelmann leapt from his chair. A hand was raised to stop him. ‘General …’ he began, only to hear von Schaumburg saying, ‘Sit down! Don’t make an even bigger fool of yourself than you already have.’
Again she was given a moment to compose herself.
‘The gypsies were very poor and in rags, as was Janwillem, who was a boy of eleven, yet they had a resilience and love of life which transcended their poverty. My uncle …’ She tried to ease her throat. ‘He let them stay and help with the olive harvest and gave them the sheep, knowing they would steal no more from him because that is the gypsy way. For them he became a protector, a benefactor who soon found himself taking up their cause with the guardia. A Gajo, yes, but kind and useful, and one whom they came to respect greatly.’
Still she hadn’t taken her eyes from von Schaumburg except for that momentary lapse to glare at Louis. From somewhere a white cashmere throw had been found, but it was in the way she had wrapped this about her throat to hide the marks, and in the way she stood that one saw how fiercely proud and defiant she was.
‘Some years they came to our hacienda to help with the harvest, some years they didn’t, but I never forgot Janwillem or Tshaya. You see, it was through her and others of the kumpania, and at my uncle’s insistence, that I really learned to dance and sing, though she relished the opportunity to show me she could still do so far better than I.’
‘The party on the night of the eleventh at your former villa,’ said St-Cyr.
Though she didn’t look at him this time, she said, ‘Yes. Under gypsy law, she could never marry a non-gypsy.’
‘When she was fifteen,’ said St-Cyr, ‘she ran off to Paris but couldn’t find De Vries and married Henri Doucette instead.’
‘The boxer,’ murmured von Schaumburg. ‘One of that gang over on the rue Lauriston.’
The French Gestapo.
‘Her family took her back that first time but he came after her and beat her terribly, General. Janwillem had by then started in on the life he was to lead. He’s very cool-headed and is fascinated, not just by locks, but by explosives. He is at heart a true gypsy. This is what you must realize. He believes himself one of them and that there is nothing wrong with his robbing the Gaje or of his lying to them or cheating them if …’ She paused to gaze at Herr Max with contempt. ‘If in the end it will give him what he so desperately craves, his freedom.’
‘Where is he? Where have you been hiding him?’ demanded Engelmann fiercely.
‘General, if the story is not told, the answer cannot be given.’
Ah merde, thought St-Cyr, try not to be so swift to anger.
‘Janwillem came into contact with kumpaniyi all over Europe – remember, please, that he speaks their language fluently which very few non-gypsies do. Everywhere he went he behaved as one of them. He shared completely and freely the loot he had stolen, buying food, wine, whatever was needed, and became very close to them and loved as one of their own.’ Again she paused to moisten her throat. ‘So he knows, General, all the ways they would use to mark a trail, all the safe havens, the protectors too, like my uncle, who serve as letter boxes and listening posts. A brief telegraph or telephone call, a word passed from one caravan to another and a haven is ready with whatever it will take to hide him for as long as he wishes.’
It was von Schaumburg who asked if she was suggesting the terrorists who had stolen Gabrielle’s car had been in contact with De Vries from the moment he had arrived in Tours.
‘From well before that. Probably right from the night he was arrested in Oslo in 1938. Prison is death to a gypsy. Tshaya betrayed him – she’s exceedingly jealous of me and very possessive of him but he still doesn’t see this. I had him, General. He was mine! We were to have a son in a few more months. I had the villa in Saint-Cloud. Everything was waiting for him to …’ She ducked her head a little in acknowledgement of her own folly. ‘To give up the life he had led and live the one I wanted. We had agreed to marry.’
But he had lied even to you, thought St-Cyr, and asked, ‘Did he finance the purchase of the villa?’
‘What would you have me say?’ she countered hotly. ‘That it was bought with stolen money? Ah! you do not understand us Andalusians, Inspector, and I pity you. I bought it myself with funds borrowed from my uncle and with those gained from my work!’
‘Forgive me,’ he said, mollified but very conscious of that temper of hers.
She did not toss her head. ‘For Gabrielle’s sake I will. This whole affair is rubbish, General. Of course I wanted to see Janwillem when he dropped in so unexpectedly from Tours but he stayed less than an hour and as I stand before you, I have not seen him since.’
‘She’s lying,’ said Herr Max.
‘I’m not!’ she countered swiftly. Again she choked and had to force herself to swallow. ‘He’s … he’s completely under Tshaya’s spell. If you want him, then find her. Her! They will not be staying together – have you even considered this? Ah! I see that you haven’t. Think as a gypsy. Stop being the son of some Gaje … Bitte, bitte, what was your father?’ She snapped her fingers.
‘A woodcutter.’
Verdammt! but she was magnificent, swore Kohler. A natural. A gypsy herself in many ways. Louis could see it too.
‘Tshaya will be separate from Janwillem because if the one is taken, the other will be ready to bring freedom or revenge. And please don’t forget she’s not alone but has others to help. Gypsies who know their lives count as nothing, so what, please, is there for them to lose?’
Uncomfortable at the thought, von Schaumburg asked, ‘What will they do next?’ and she said, ‘General, this is a confusion of his, a flimflam, a sleight of hand, a typical gypsy ruse that is guaranteed to bewilder the Gaje. Tshaya and he will have it all planned. The lure is your recovering the loot, the cyanide and explosives and in silencing a press which continues to laud him. These temptations will drive you to allow him to accomplish what he wants.’
‘Which is?’
‘Something so shocking it will show you all up for what they think you really are.’
‘And where might he be hiding?’ asked Herr Max acidly. He’d had enough of her.
‘Please just tell us what you think possible,’ said von Schaumburg.
‘A place known only to gypsies and that is why you must find Tshaya but remember he’s one of them if not by birth, then by all the rest. He’ll be ready to disappear at a moment’s notice.’
She let the silence hang in the room, then told them exactly how it would be. ‘Tshaya will have remained in the city. She’ll be co-ordinating things with the others. That husband of hers will be looking for her – he is, isn’t he? but she’ll be waiting for him too, to rid her life of him. Go carefully. She’ll have explosives because, as Janwillem’s accomplice from time to time over the years, she, too, has learned their use.’
Ah no!
‘And then?’ asked von Schaumburg.
‘Either you will take Janwillem, General, or he will vanish without a trace until he’s ready to surface again.’
‘And the loot?’ asked someone.
‘Will go with him, of course.’
‘He has blank papers,’ said Kohler. ‘Ausweise, identity cards, ration tickets …’
‘And all the franking stamps that are necessary,’ said von Schaumburg, scowling at the incompetence of the SS, the Gestapo and Herr Max. ‘Berlin are too far removed from us. See that this Tshaya is found and then convince her to tell us where he is.’