J. Janes - Beekeeper

‘And before you finally left the house in Charonne at … What time was it, please?’

‘Six a.m. I listened to my father’s harangue, Inspector, listened as he cursed Frau Schlacht and Étienne and everyone else, including maman whom he said was fucking — that is the word he used — fucking every man she could at the Hôtel Titania and enjoying it. Enjoying it !’

The girl was desperate and so very afraid of the truth, but it would still be best to force it from her. ‘You arrived at the first control at about what time, please? It can and will be checked.’

‘Inspector, what more do you want from me? That I stayed in the city but kept out of sight? That I went to the Salpêtrière and while hiding among the milling crowd saw Frau Schlacht hand that bottle to my aunt? That I saw papa take it from her and then … then, later, set it on his desk? That … that it was then that I listened to his hateful harangue and how he cursed me for loving my brother? I … I knew papa would have Étienne arrested and shot. I knew that bottle had to have the poison added to it — yes, yes, a thousand times yes, damn you! But … but …’

Tears filled her eyes as she hung her head in despair. ‘But if you had added the poison,’ said St-Cyr, ‘and your father hadn’t drunk from the bottle — indeed, why should he have — Herr Schlacht, who did like liqueurs, would have done so and died.’

‘And every member of your family, including yourself and your half-brother,’ sighed Kohler, ‘would have been taken in reprisal. That’s the law.’

Louis poured a glass of cognac and gave it to the girl, and as the kid took it, she looked up at him and tried to smile. ‘ Merci ,’ she said. ‘Oh mon Dieu , I’ve been so afraid and ashamed. I left that bottle untouched, Inspector. I could have taken it with me that afternoon when I rode all the way to Soisy-sur-Seine, but I didn’t. I found Étienne’s things in the shed. I was so excited. He’d understand how I felt and wouldn’t blame me, but … but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t.’

Louis poured her another cognac and then handed one to the mother who quickly passed it to Father Michel and said brittlely, ‘Drink it, mon Père. I greatly fear you are going to need it.’

‘God is my comfort, my child, and as God is my witness, I could not do it. I, too, knew that if Herr Schlacht had been poisoned, Inspector, Alexandre would surely be blamed and that would mean Étienne and he would go to the firing squad, Danielle and Juliette into deportation. Oh bien sûr , I wanted Alexandre dead. He had become a monster even I could no longer tolerate. The bottle was there in the study and I knew this because I’d seen him bring it home from the Salpêtrière and take it into the study to leave it there before going to the brothel. And yes, I could so easily have done it had I fiddled with the lock and opened that door, but …’

‘But someone came in through the garden,’ sighed Kohler. ‘A very attractive German lady. Not Frau Schlacht but another.’

One who would later go to the Society’s meeting with a loaded Beretta in her purse.

‘Oskar, stop them. I did it for us.’

‘Don’t worry. These two have been told to leave me and my affairs out of things. Oberg won’t allow it.’

‘Your wife, mein Herr,’ said Louis, ‘was to have been accused of buying the Amaretto and attempting to kill you. That would, I think, have been sufficient for your courts to have given her a lengthy sentence and you the divorce you so dearly wanted.’

‘She’d have had an “accident”, Louis. Don’t be so kind,’ snorted Kohler. ‘Frau Hillebrand would then have become the courier to Switzerland, and the happy couple could have continued to salt away as much as possible for everyone.’

‘And now?’ cautioned Schlacht.

‘We’ll have to arrest her, mein lieber Bonze ,’ said Kohler firmly. ‘Our reports will go in — we’ll cite extenuating circumstances. That speech de Bonnevies was to have given. Very much against the interests of the Reich, et cetera. If she’s lucky, they’ll pin a medal on her. Right, Louis?’

Hermann always liked to have the last word, but was not the law — the law; truth sacred — and yet … and yet the Occupier a formidable presence? ‘Right, of course,’ he sighed. What else was he to have done, especially when they still had two arrests to make? That of the custodian of the catacombs, and of Madame Héloïse Debré, both of whom the French courts would be only too happy to deal with.

Two glasses were filled with the Bonze’s twenty-year-old cognac. ‘One for you, mon vieux ,’ said St-Cyr, ‘and the other for … Why, for your chauffeur, I think. Yes, the title suits and the Citroën is, of course, mine to drive, at least until the toes heal. How are they, by the way?’

‘Perfect.’

‘Good.’

When he held the second-class tickets out to Juliette and Danielle, Kohler felt his fingers trembling at the loss and knew that for Oona and himself, and Giselle and Louis, there could only be more of the Occupation.

‘Take care,’ he said, and felt the kid’s lips as she kissed him warmly on both cheeks.

‘Madame,’ said Louis, ‘you will travel only as far as Orange where, leaving your suitcases behind, you will get off the train during its brief stopover. Buy a copy of Le Provençal if possible, but if one is not available, then simply wait beside the news kiosk with your daughter always on your left. When someone asks if you’re from the north, don’t answer or look around. Simply follow this person at a distance towards the toilets. There’s an office near them, and then an outer door to freedom. It’s all been arranged. A farm in one of the remotest parts of the Cévennes, a few hives, a new start.’

Gabrielle had contacted friends in the Résistance. ‘We can’t trust Herr Schlacht, madame, nor can we trust Oberg and the SS,’ said Kohler. ‘You’re carrying five million francs and are just too easy a target.’

‘We know too much,’ said Danielle sadly.

‘All but fifty thousand will be taken by your passeur to be used by others,’ said St-Cyr.

‘And Father Michel?’ asked Juliette.

‘Has been sent to a monastery in the Haute-Savoie and has already left the city.’

‘Then it’s goodbye,’ she said. ‘You two … ah mon Dieu , how can I ever thank you?’

‘By being the friend this one needs,’ he said, and helped them on to the train.

They watched, they waited, these two detectives, as the train began to pull out of the Gare de Lyon. They would not leave, thought Juliette, until certain they had done everything possible to get them safely away.

‘Louis, when you were up in the gods of that factory and calling down to them and to our Bonze , you knew Schlacht would compromise and save face by saying Oona had to stay in Paris. You knew he’d let those two go, at least for the time being.’

‘By keeping Oona here, Herr Schlacht still believes he has a hold over us, Hermann, should we ever think to let the Kommandant von Gross-Paris know what’s really been going on. I admit, however, that I also had self-interest at heart, for with Oona here, I can depend on you to be the person you are. Giselle as well, of course, for she’d give you up in an instant if she felt you had become at all loyal to the Occupier.’

‘Then read these!’

Je Suis Partout’s and Le Matin’s thin and heavily controlled newspapers shrilled outrage in bold black letters: TERRORISTS DYNAMITE HEADQUARTERS OF QUARTIER DU MAIL ET DE BONNE-NOUVELLE MILICE. FOUR DEAD, FIVE TERRIBLY INJURED.