J. Janes - Carousel

Yet were it not for the two handguns pointed at him, one could almost have thought it a domestic scene of utter commonness. The two priests merely in attendance to discuss a coming baptism.

They were getting nowhere and Hermann … Hermann was out there some place without backup. ‘Please, I will ask you one more time, Captain. The guns, eh? Turn yourself in. It’s of no use. I know what happened.’

‘ You don’t !’ shrilled Dupuis, cocking the Lebel. Tears poured down his cheeks. ‘I didn’t kill them! I would never have killed them. I will kill you! I WILL!’

St-Cyr cautiously reached for his cigarettes, which had been tossed on the table some time ago. ‘Look, I know you didn’t kill either of those two young girls. I’m here about the Corporal Schraum.’

‘ You’re lying !’ The Luger came up, the hammer was clawed back … No … no …

‘Alphonse, don’t. The Inspector does know everything. Please, I beg it of you. Listen to your priest and friend.’

Doubt clouded the reddened eyes. Uncertain still, Dupuis bit the end of his tongue.

‘To me,’ urged Father Eugene. ‘Just the Luger, Alphonse. Come, come. Allow me to do the correct thing, eh? It’s a small enough request, since you will still have your revolver.’

The old priest’s hand made its way through the clutter. One of the wine bottles teetered. Father David leapt to steady it. The Luger swung his way …

The bottle was righted. The child threw up. A choking fit followed. Ah, Mon Dieu, never had he been a party to a situation like this!

The gnarled hand of the old priest closed about the barrel of the Luger, which was still pointed at St-Cyr, still gripped by the Captain Dupuis.

Father Eugene looked steadily at the Captain, a test of wills. ‘Alphonse, you must trust me. I borrowed this gun from you – you know I did. We spoke of it in the confessional just after the Defeat. You told me you had broken the new laws and had kept your guns and I remembered this. You trusted me and I kept silent, but then I had need of one of them.’

‘I didn’t kill them, Father. I swear I didn’t! They were … She was … she was just lying on the floor not moving, not saying anything, Father. Naked! He’d … he’d …’

‘The gun, Alphonse. I must have the gun. The Inspector knows everything.’

‘Will you kill him?’ asked Dupuis, meaning the detective.

Father David’s hand closed over both of theirs and the Luger. ‘Father, I’m the one who has sinned. I … I shot the Corporal Schraum.’

The young priest’s sky-blue eyes were moist. ‘He was abusing my Marie, Inspector. I couldn’t have it happen any longer. Night after night the Corporal would come and she would have to do whatever he wanted or he’d have had me arrested.’

‘So you killed him?’

‘Yes. Father Eugene had borrowed the Luger. He was planning to get both of the guns away from Captain Dupuis because … because he was afraid Alphonse might … might do something he shouldn’t.’

The confessional and the sins of a tortured mind. Thoughts of a young girl taking off her clothes in the room next door while some bourgeois bastard watched her do it.

‘The boy talks nonsense, Inspector. It was I who killed the Corporal,’ said the old priest.

Dupuis ducked his red-rimmed eyes lest he steal another glance at the woman’s naked breasts, her throat, her lovely throat.

Father Eugene said, ‘David, please ! I beg you. Let me do what is right. It is God’s will.’

‘Did Schraum know Roland Minou?’ asked St-Cyr.

‘Yes … yes, of course he did,’ replied the old priest, testy at the interruption.

‘How do you suppose Schraum acquired the dragonfly that was clenched in his fist?’

‘Dragonflies … He talks of insects at a time like this!’ shrilled Captain Dupuis.

The woman wiped her breasts with a filthy dishcloth. ‘Roland gave it to him, Inspector. About two months ago. The Corporal showed it to me, but he kept it as … as a souvenir, he said.’

Thank God for saneness in the midst of chaos. ‘Did he say where Roland had acquired it? Please, madame, this is important.’

She glanced uncertainly at Father David. ‘Roland had been following the girl, even when she went into the Villa Audit. He stole the dragonfly from there. The Corporal Schraum only laughed about it and then … and then he forced me to … to …’

‘ Marie, don’t tell him ! Please! It’s … it’s not necessary.’

Distracted, the young priest looked beseechingly at her. Father Eugene’s grip tightened on the barrel of the Luger. Dupuis’ grip tightened on the butt, the trigger …

The child threw up and threatened to turn blue. The Luger was plucked away by the Sarete and pointed at Dupuis.

‘Now look, Captain. Enough is enough. If we can deliver the killer of Corporal Schraum to the Kommandant of Greater Paris and demonstrate that he was not involved with the Resistance, we might – I say might – just be able to save the hostages. As for the others …’

‘They are in God’s hands, is that what you mean?’ asked the old priest wisely.

‘You know it is, Father.’

‘Then what is it you wish of us?’

Could he trust them, could he not take them into custody? ‘Look, I have unfinished business. Be at the carousel in the parc des Buttes-Chaumont at seven-thirty in the morning. All of you, Father Eugene. That one too, with his revolver. We may need it.’

Dupuis understood the look he gave him. The old priest hesitated. The young priest didn’t know what to do.

St-Cyr placed the Luger into Father Eugene’s hand and wrapped the old priest’s fingers about it. ‘Shoot well, if needed, eh? Break your vows, but break them for the good of others.’

Hermann … where was Hermann?

The flame of the candle fluttered. Antoine Audit had yet to lift the heavy stone from the cellar wall.

A chill came. Involuntarily Kohler shivered as the hackles began to rise. Brandl … Had Audit managed to call the Bureau? Had Offenheimer and Brandl met up with Oona?

‘So okay, my fine, that’s enough. The gun’s loaded. Don’t move.’

Audit didn’t. ‘Where’s St-Cyr?’

‘Keeping an eye out. What’s in the wall, eh? The coins?’

Could Kohler be bribed? Why hadn’t Brandl come? The door had been left unlocked. Had Kohler put the lock back on?

‘If you’d lend a hand, Inspector, we could both … I assure you, there’s far more than the coins.’

‘Emeralds?’ asked Kohler.

‘Yes, emeralds and Mayan gold. Exquisite things. Turquoise, too, and river diamonds. My brother smuggled them into France, but was too afraid to try to sell them. Christabelle showed me a pair of the earrings. It was one of her ways of getting me to co-operate. I did not think Charles would use my hiding-place. It was empty. He …’

Kohler drew in a breath. The air was too cold, too damp. Was that whisky he smelled? Scotch whisky?

It was odd how the mind played tricks. Emeralds … Mayan gold and diamonds … ‘You stole the coins from yourself and hid them behind that stone. A month before the Defeat you robbed yourself so as to have a little something laid by in case all else failed. Perigord wouldn’t have been any good as a hiding-place – far too many truffle-hunters, eh? You needed Paris because, my friend, you could see where things were heading.’

There’d be no help with the stone. He’d have to force Kohler to come closer. ‘I reported the theft, Inspector. I myself came to Paris to advise the Surete of the loss.’

Pharand would have seen the original list and so would Boemelburg. Word would have got around. ‘Were you or were you not in Paris on the night before the Defeat?’