J. Janes - Gypsy

*

Subdued, terrified – pulled from a fitful sleep at 0347 hours – Gabrielle stared emptily at the cognac in her glass. She knew she must say something, that they had to have answers.

‘ Drink it !’ said Boemelburg using French.

Anger flared. ‘Why should I? I don’t want it! I want a robe – something to cover these … these pyjamas which are not my own.’

A hand was raised. She wouldn’t duck. She would take the blow and rebound from it.

The hand was halted in mid-air.

‘Now drink it,’ grunted Boemelburg.

The cognac was the Vieille Reserve . Was he certain it would make her sick? ‘We didn’t kill the Spade, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ she said ashenly. ‘We had no reason to. I’ve never met him. Tshaya …’

‘ How could she have tied him down like that if alone ?’ demanded Engelmann in deutsch .

An irritated shrug was all she would offer.

‘The Gypsy wasn’t with her. He was in hiding, was he not?’ said Boemelburg quietly.

Ah damn him. ‘I don’t know. How could I?’ she winced.

Her throat constricted. ‘The Spade was useful to us,’ said Boemelburg, reverting to French, ‘but now that he’s gone, you and the others are our only leads.’

‘Then bring us all together, Sturmbannfuhrer. Let us tell you what we know. We’ll help you in any way we can,’ she pleaded.

‘Where were you last Wednesday night?’ he asked flatly.

Herr Engelmann was incensed at the continued use of French. ‘I … I was at the Club Mirage.’

‘And during your breaks?’ asked Boemelburg.

‘In my dressing-room. Your … your Listeners should have a record of it.’

‘Those tapes are mostly silent.’

‘Then please ask the Rivard brothers, the owners. I did not leave until after the curfew had ended at five on Thursday morning as you well know.’

‘The explosives …’

‘She’s lying,’ said Engelmann in deutsch . ‘There were no other terrorists. She went willingly with De Vries to the quarry.’

‘ Bitte, ja ? Herr Max. I wish to get a sense of things. You will have your chance with her, never fear.’

‘There … there were six of them, Sturmbannfuhrer, and I am certain one of the three who came with us mentioned a campsite in a forest, at some ruins. I swear it. I wouldn’t lie to you. There … there is too much for me to lose.’

‘The Chateau Theriault and your son.’

‘Yes.’

More cognac was called for and again she found herself staring at it and unable to lift her eyes to him.

‘Did he scream?’ asked Boemelburg.

She leapt. Her drink was spilled. ‘He … he must have,’ she blurted, forcing herself not to burst into tears. ‘The … the rabbits shriek when blinded. It’s a despicable practice and, yes, I’ve seen it done.’

Ah Sweet Jesus , save her now, she thought, quickly draining the refill he had given her.

‘Why will you not co-operate?’ he asked. ‘I don’t want to see you hurt, Mademoiselle Arcuri. The people who do those things are not nice.’

She tried to speak but couldn’t. Furious with her, he told Engelmann to bring the veterinarian. ‘ You , go and sit on the bed and keep silent.’

Pale and badly shaken, Suzanne-Cecilia was hustled into the room and thrown into the chair. Terrified, she tried to make herself as small as possible but they shone the light on her. The nightgown she wore was thin and someone else’s. Wounded, her dark brown eyes lifted furtively to them only to duck away as she was struck once, twice, three times, not knowing what had been said to them, not even knowing if she had been betrayed.

The thick auburn hair was dishevelled. The long lashes and perfect eyebrows were knitted as she cringed in pain, Gabrielle realizing in that moment that Ceci had earlier worn Marianne St-Cyr’s clothes and that they had fitted her perfectly.

It was a silly thought and such jealousy had no meaning here.

‘ Je suit partout , madame,’ said Boemelburg quietly.

‘ Oui ?’ she blurted, blood trickling down her chin, the fear in her wounded eyes all too clear.

‘At 1630 hours Thursday a woman telephoned them to report that she had “information on the whereabouts of the estranged wife of Henri Doucette”.’

‘And?’ she asked, biting off the word.

‘Did you or did you not give them the address they then printed?’

She sucked in a breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. ‘“Estranged”, it’s a big word for an anonymous informer to use.’

Verdammt ! he’d have to cut to where it would hurt. ‘Your husband, madame?’

‘My dead husband, yes?’ she blurted in tears.

‘Your wireless code was similar to that of his unit during the invasion. It was modified but followed the pattern of those advocated by Delastelle.’

Ah no, the book … ‘Honore told me very little about his life in the army. If his code, or one like it was being used by whomever hid that wireless set in my zebra house – and I’m not saying there was a wireless set there – I … why I know nothing of it. How could I?’ She wiped blood from her lips and nose with the back of a hand that trembled. Smarting, she blinked her eyes to clear them but could not seem to stop herself from shaking.

Engelmann passed in front of the lamp to throw his shadow over her. Then he stepped behind her and she had to ask herself what was he going to do now?

‘Your student days,’ breathed Boemelburg. ‘One of your professors mentions “a remarkable ability with electronics”.’

‘I …’ she began, only to flinch as she felt Herr Engelmann’s hands brush the back of her neck. ‘I was young. I was interested in everything. It … it was just something to do.’ She shook him off.

‘But when asked, the professor was quite convinced you could have built a wireless set and would have had no trouble in operating it. “As a student, Madame Lemaire belonged to a group we called the Cricket Talkers, the Society for the Improvement of Wireless Transmission.”’

‘But … but why would he have referred to me as Madame when I was to him unmarried at the time?’

Tears were blinked away. Verdammt ! why would she not confess without the use of reinforced interrogation? ‘The questioner gave him your married name,’ snapped Boemelburg gruffly.

‘Then he should have used Carriere, Sturmbannfuhrer. My father is a pharmacist, a gold medallist, as is my mother. This professor you speak of did not know me. If he had, he would have shaken his head in despair at the memory of all my questions, and would have referred to me as Ceci or la petite espiegle .’

The little imp! Furious with her, Boemelburg grabbed the front of her nightgown and, bunching it up, shoved his fist under her chin so that she was pushed back into Herr Engelmann. ‘ Bring the other one !’ he shrieked.

The left side of Nana’s face was very red and swollen. Her lips were bleeding again. The bruises on her neck were darker, bigger. Violently she was thrown into the light. The nightgown had been torn and hung by a single shoulder strap. She’d been banged up against a wall and had been struck repeatedly.

‘ I’m your only link ,’ she hissed, yanking herself free of Engelmann. ‘ I may even know where Janwillem is hiding, but as long as I live I will tell you nothing !’

Ah nom de Dieu , winced Gabrielle.

‘ Leave us. Get out !’ he shouted in deutsch at Engelmann, and when the door was closed, took a moment to study these three. Everything in him said that things were not as they should be. The wireless signals, the Gypsy, the robberies, each of which must have been well surveyed beforehand. The murder of the Spade … the death of Hans Wehrle … Berlin were demanding an end to things. Himmler had taken a personal interest and had been shrieking for blood.