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‘Reverend Father, would you and Brother Michael be so kind as to take Brother Sebastian home? My partner and I will call in later. A signed statement, that is all. The Prefet can then …’

‘Your partner will be dead,’ said Ackermann.

Stung by the interruption, St-Cyr turned on him. ‘General, you are so sure of yourself. Is it that generals, having all the power, never question their own judgement?’

‘Not when they hold the cards.’

‘Even though I might try to make a deal with you to let the matter lie?’

How harsh and unexpected of him. The abbot, of course, and the monks. That’s why he’d sent them away. ‘It’s an offer you would never make, Inspector. In any case, I’m not interested.’

The abbot and the two brothers had reached the main entrance to the salon. Ackermann had to give the okay for them to leave and he did so with an uncaring wave of dismissal.

St-Cyr struck. ‘Countess, would you like to fill in the details or shall I?’

Was there sadness in the look she gave him? He felt it everywhere, from all angles of the room.

‘You seem to know everything, Inspector. Am I to be charged as an accessory?’

St-Cyr feigned surprise. ‘To Jerome’s murder? You knew who had killed the boy and you hid this from the authorities, that is correct. But you also used that little piece of information to blackmail the abbot into giving up his land claim.’

‘That is nonsense and you cannot prove it.’

‘But I can, Countess. On the night of Jerome’s murder, Yvette went to meet her brother and found him dead. She then ran to you for help and we know the rest except that Brother Michael was a witness to your removing the body, so when you placed the rosary in the casket you accomplished two things.

‘You let the abbot know that you knew who had killed the boy, and you told him by that action that you would say nothing so long as the land claim was settled.

‘You then,’ he indicated the seating arrangement, ‘showed the town and the district that there would be no more talk of this claim or of disharmony.’

‘I have my duties. I have my husband’s lands to protect and the interests of my grandson.’

‘But not those of your daughter-in-law.’

Mademoiselle Arcuri and the countess exchanged glances. Ackermann was carefully watching the proceedings. Good!

‘Let us now go back to the night of Jerome’s killing. When you and a distraught Yvette moved the body to a roadside in Fontainebleau Woods, you took a terrible chance. There was every possibility you’d be stopped by a German patrol or at one of their controls. You would have to use your cousin as an excuse. After all he was a general, a hero, one of the SS. Am I right? A visit to Paris – urgent business perhaps – a body in the boot of the car, a bicycle tied on to the back – that would have to be the girl’s. You’d have to tell them she was pregnant perhaps – reason away the tears.

‘You were stopped, Countess. Not once but several times, if my guess is right. But one can’t say anything to German patrols but that word of it gets around – slowly sometimes. It reached the avenue Foch, didn’t it, General? After all, you were heading the investigation into the whereabouts of Charles Maurice Theriault.’

‘The boy had served his usefulness.’

‘So you kept an eye on things and said nothing. But then … ah then, General, the fur began to fly in Berlin. A purse was found. Condoms in little silk sleeves, perfume, a cigarette case, a small pouch of uncut diamonds. A diary no less. All left as if dropped in haste by the killer. All pointing the finger if it should be pointed at …’

‘Please, that is enough,’ said the countess anxiously. ‘I did not attempt to pin the murder of Jerome on Gabrielle. You must believe me, Gabi. As God is my witness, I swear it was a foolish accident – an impulse. Yvette was beside herself with grief. She kept on saying he was just asleep. She tried to make him comfortable. I …’

‘You went through his pockets like a killer, Countess, and you found the purse,’ said St-Cyr.

‘Yes … Yes, I found it. Jerome had decided to leave the monastery for good. That’s why he was dressed the way he was. That’s why Yvette had come home – to stop him. I … I thought it would help to remove his identification. I took the purse up into the woods and threw it as far away as I could.’

‘In the dark and in among the trees, which you would surely have known were there,’ said St-Cyr drily.

‘Yes … Yes, I knew it had hit a tree and fallen somewhere near.’

‘Yet you did not try to find it – even though you knew it might incriminate Mademoiselle Arcuri?’

Damn him! ‘I couldn’t wait that long! There was so little time. A patrol … When would one come by? I’d torn my stockings, scratched myself …’

‘Countess, please allow me to correct you. It was not yourself who took that purse up into the woods, but Yvette Noel.’

The woman bowed her head and ran a worried hand over her brow. ‘May God forgive me, yes.’

‘You knew the police would find it.’

‘I didn’t. I swear I didn’t! I was far too anxious about the patrols. I didn’t want them searching the car and finding anything incriminating. Yvette … I sent the girl up into the woods – yes, I forced her to do it! I waited in the car with the engine running. The girl said she’d thrown it away.’

He’d have to let it go like that but it saddened him to think ill of her. All of Jerome’s ID would have been burned in the girl’s absence, including his last will and testament, the countess leaning out of the car window to do so while anxiously listening for the patrol.

Even greatness had its weakness. Especially greatness.

‘Then you are forgiven and I must ask you why you drove all the way to Fontainebleau Woods to dispose of the body?’

Must he continue with it, dragging each detail out of her? ‘Because Yvette had to return to Paris if I was to hush up what had happened – one look at her and everyone would have known. I was afraid of the Nazis – yes, you, Hans. I knew you’d see in Jerome’s murder the final straw and come looking for Charles even though he was dead.’

‘Dead?’ exclaimed Ackermann with genuine disbelief.

‘Yes, dead, my cousin. I’m sorry to have to disappoint you but Charles died last August. We dared not bury him so I kept him here in the chateau. Jerome … Jerome thought my son was still alive. He was blackmailing Gabrielle.’

‘The condoms and the cigarette case were to signify my past,’ said Mademoiselle Arcuri sadly. ‘The diamonds I’d given him … even you must know, Hans, that by the decree of June 1940, all valuables above a sum of 100,000 francs were to have been reported to the authorities in writing. By not declaring them I had committed an indictable offence and would be deported to Germany, to a concentration camp. Full responsibility for hiding Charles would then have rested with Jeanne, and Jerome … Jerome would be left to claim the ChaTeau Theriault and all of its lands. No doubt you made that little deal with him, fool that he was.’

A perfect candidate for a monastery, thought St-Cyr. ‘So, my friends, we come full circle to an Yvette who knew too much and who set out to “fix” things.’

‘I am not a homosexual,’ said Ackermann evenly. ‘The very thought of such a thing is abhorrent to me.’

‘Then why the crime of passion, General, in the death of Jerome? If the boy hadn’t taken another lover, Brother Sebastian would not have flown into such a rage and killed him.’

‘The brother merely misinterpreted my meetings with Jerome.’

‘Perhaps, but had he not seen a little more than that – down by the river perhaps, or when the two of you sat in your car on the road beneath the monastery? Jerome, I think, would also have talked – he’d have told Brother Sebastian in no uncertain terms that the affair was finished and why it was finished.

‘You were lovers, General. Yvette knew only too well what was going on, so, too, the abbot and Brother Michael, and I think also Mademoiselle Arcuri and the countess. But they were afraid of you. Isn’t that right? After all, you had the upper hand, the last laugh, the use of the boy’s body and what he knew about the Family Theriault and the whereabouts of Charles Maurice.’