Cross of Fire (17 page)

'I still don't see why de Forge should launch his cam
paign from there.'

'He asked to be transferred to the command of the Third
Corps, partly because it was based close to that city. De
Forge is using Bordeaux as the symbol of French humiliation. What better city to launch a revenge campaign from?
To make France the most powerful nation on the continent?'

'You said "partly". What was the other reason?'

'Because there he is dose to his friend and ally, General
Lapointe, commander of
the force defrappe -
France's atomic
strike force.'

'And his request for this transfer was accepted?'

'Another ally is the Minister of Defence, Louis Janin. De
Forge has Janin in his pocket.'

'Surely the President could do something, must know
what is going on?'

'Ah, the Elysée!' Again the wry smile. 'The President is treading carefully. He cannot yet believe that a mere general would challenge him. And
Pour France
is worrying him with its growing popularity. Throw out the Algerians, the Arabs, Dubois thunders.'

'It has hardly become a national emergency,' Tweed
insisted, determined to make Lasalle prove his case.

'We are close to it. The riots in Bordeaux. I hear that
down there people...' He broke off as an aide rushed in,
laid a long sheet of paper in front of Lasalle while apologiz
ing for the intrusion, then rushed out after glancing at his
chief's visitors. Lasalle's normally relaxed expression
became grim. He looked at Tweed.

'You said there was no national emergency. This decoded
fax has just come in. There
have been major riots in Lyons.
First reports indicate over one thousand five hundred casualties and the centre wrecked. Rioters were wearing Bala
clava masks and not a single one has been arrested. The CRS were held back with tear gas, smoke bombs. Every
hour it is coming closer to Paris.'

'So the plan is working.'

'Yes, Tweed.
De Forge's
plan is working. He is destabiliz
ing France, creating conditions for revolution. Who will save
France? I give you one guess.'

'Tell me about the
Cercle Noir
you mentioned earlier.'

'The Black Circle.' Lasalle threw out both hands in a gesture of helplessness. 'A strong rumour that it is a small club planning all this. My investigations suggest - no proof - that its members are General de Forge, General Masson, Army Chief of Staff, General Lapointe, Louis Janin - Minister of Defence here in Paris. And Emile Dubois.'

'Any other members?' Tweed enquired.

'Perhaps one more. They have codenamed him
Oiseau...'

'Bird?' Paula interjected. 'A curious codename.'

'We believe he comes and goes, that he is not only providing de Forge with funds to finance his campaign -
but also secretly transporting to him advanced weapons not in his official armoury. Perhaps even lethal nerve gas.'

'Any idea who Bird could be?' Tweed pressed.

'None at all. Incidentally, do not mention any of our conversation to anyone - including a Cabinet Minister or a member of my staff. De Forge has spies everywhere.'

Tweed was stunned. He'd never heard the DST chief talk like this before. Paula reacted crisply.

'So, de Forge has a bandwagon rolling and a lot of people
are climbing aboard?'

'You express it well,' Lasalle agreed. 'Let us hope it is not
already too late.'

'On the other hand.' Paula suggested, 'I expect you also
have your informants well placed. Otherwise how would
you know so much about what is happening inside de
Forge's camp?'

'I do have informants.' Lasalle replied cautiously. 'But it
is not only the situation here which worries me. Strange
developments are taking place inside Germany. An extreme
right-wing group,
Siegfried,
is operating underground across
the Rhine. This helps de Forge to portray the new Germany
as a threat.'

'Is there no one - apart from the President - high up you
can trust?' Tweed enquired.

'One strong man. Pierre Navarre, Minister of the Interior,
and ultimately my boss. He detests de Forge. His attitude
has one disadvantage. The President, I know, feels all will
be well so long as Navarre is in the Cabinet to counter Louis
Janin, who tells the
President there is no danger of a coup.'

'So inertia rules?'

'Exactly. Before I come to a delicate subject, is there anything else you wish to know?'

'Yes.' Paula said promptly. 'Can you give us data on de
Forge's personal life? That could be his weak point.'

Lasalle stood up, opened a wooden cupboard behind him
attached to the wall, revealed a safe. Turning the combi
nation dial from a code he carried in his head, he swung
open the metal door, took out a thick green dossier, placed
it on his desk.

'You've been busy,' Tweed observed as Lasalle opened
the dossier.

'De Forge is becoming an obsession with me.' Lasalle admitted.

Paula glanced round the office on the first floor as the Frenchman searched the file. The furniture was ancient - a
cheap wooden desk, the surface well worn; all the
cupboards were also shabby wood; the windows could do
with a clean, the curtains hadn't seen a laundry for a long time. Yet when they had entered the old building she'd
glimpsed through an open door on the ground floor a room full of computers, fax machines, shimmering green screens. DST was an odd mix of the old and advanced technology.

Lasalle addressed himself to Paula as he began speaking.
'De Forge has been married for ten years to Josette, a Parisienne society woman. She has an apartment in Bor
deaux, another here in Passy. She was left a fortune by her
father, who was Minister of Defence when de Forge married
her. Her picture...'

Paula studied the photograph of an elegant brunette,
seated on a sofa, wearing a short skirt with her superb legs
crossed. A lady who knew how to display her assets.

'Attractive, intelligent, knows what she wants,' she
hazarded.'

'An excellent character analysis,' Lasalle replied,
impressed. 'And she wishes to be the
wife of the President
of France, her husband.'

'Is he faithful to her?'

'My God! No! De Forge has an insatiable appetite for the good things of life. At the head of the list he places women.
He has an English mistress, as I mentioned before lunch.
She spends time at the Villa Forban, near Third Corps GHQ.
May I introduce you to Jean Burgoyne...'

Paula studied the photo he had extracted from the dos
sier. She recognized the glamorous girl with long blonde
hair. Seated in a canvas chak on a lawn with a backdrop of dense evergreens, Jean Burgoyne wore a tight-fitting blue
sweater which revealed her enticing figure and her wide
mouth was smiling, a smile of wicked amusement.

'The picture is a bit blurred,' Paula commented.

'Taken secretly with a telescopic lens.'

'And I suppose Josette doesn't know she exists?' Paula
remarked, phrasing her point carefully.

'You believe that!' Lasalle gave a mocking laugh, relaxing
briefly for the first time since they'd met. 'I have proof
Josette is well aware of de Forge's many little peccadilloes.
Is that the word?'

'That's the word, René,' Paula said and chuckled. 'She
puts up with them?'

'She ignores them. I told you - she wishes to remain the
wife of the man who will become President of France. A
most ambitious woman. She also has her affairs - and
always with men who could be useful to de Forge.'

'Quite a lady, if that's the word,' Paula commented.

Lasalle extracted a fresh photo. 'And this is Major Jules
Lamy, Chief of Intelligence to de Forge. Some say he is de Forge's
eminence grise,
his evil genius. Lamy is a keep fit
fanatic. They say he runs ten miles every day, no matter what the weather.'

Tweed leaned towards Paula to look at the picture. A
foxy-faced man, strong features, staring eyes. Paula grimaced, handed back the photo.

'Don't like the look of him at all. Wouldn't like to bump
into him on a dark night.'

'Finally, this is Sergeant Rey. I have two copies - take
one. If the formidable Robert Newman is thinking of return
ing to Bordeaux, best he knows about Rey.'

'What is his function?' Tweed asked as Paula leaned to
look at the photo.

Rey wore the uniform and emblems of a sergeant. He
had a gnome-like face, was of uncertain age, but his eyes
were cunning and cruel. Again the picture was slightly
blurred.

'He is officially de Forge's batman,' Lasalle said, his tone grim. 'The important thing to remember is that he is a genius at constructing booby-traps. Inventive as the devil.'

'De Forge sounds to specialize in devils,' Tweed commented half-humorously to lighten the atmosphere.

He handed the photo to Paula who tucked it carefully inside a compartment in her shoulder bag. Lasalle slowly
drummed his fingers on the desk, staring at Tweed.

'Now I come to the delicate subject. I know how much
you value and look after your agents. Henri Bayle who was
murdered in Bordeaux. He was taken from a place he worked
at called the Bar Miami by two fake DST officers. The autopsy
report has come through by fax. A detailed report.'

'What does it tell us?' Tweed asked quietly.

'That he was strangled. The aspect I find intriguing about the report...' He paused, glanced at Paula. 'I hope I don't sound cold-blooded?'

'Not in the least,' Paula said briskly. 'We need all the data we can get.'

'The pathologist,' Lasalle continued, 'records in his report that the strangler was a professional. An odd word to use but he goes on to explain. The act of strangulation was swift and very efficient. Thumbs were pressed against Bayle's windpipe and held there until he expired. After death - and this is curious - the murderer savagely bruised the neck. Sounds like a sadist, even a psychopath.'

'More likely an attempt to cover his professional expertise,' Tweed responded.

'It is rumoured - no more - that the killer was a man we
have heard of. Kalmar.'

'Where did the rumours come from?'

'We think Kalmar himself advertises his existence - to
increase his reputation, and therefore his fees, for such
assignments.'