Cross of Fire (31 page)

'I'll have to fetch Major Lamy ...'

'He has two minutes to get here. I said
two minutes.
Move, man. Things seem sloppy round here ...'

Within a minute a car drove up behind the gate. Major
Lamy emerged, walked through the pedestrian gate. He
stared along the road at the endless convoy.

'What is that white vehicle?'

'An ambulance. Now, General de Forge is expecting me,
so open the gates or we'll drive through them.'

Lamy looked at the four CRS outriders who had drawn
up alongside Lasalle's Citroen. Wearing black crash helmets,
the CRS riders stared back at him through their sinister
goggles.

'If you insist,' Lamy decided. 'But this is a military establishment

'I didn't think it was a holiday camp,' Lasalle interrupted him. 'The gates ...'

'Only your vehicle can enter...'

Then the rest will smash down the gates and follow me.
Give the order...'

Lasalle pressed the button again and the window shut in
Lamy's face. He turned, nodded, the gates opened, and
Lamy had to run to dive into his car which led the way to
General de Forge's quarters. Behind them the convoy
streamed through the entrance, nose to tail. They proceeded down a long concrete avenue lined with single-storey military buildings. Lasalle noticed that at the beginning of each
side road a large tank was stationed, each huge gun barrel
aimed at a low angle, its tank commander standing in the
turret. De Forge
was emphasizing his power.

Lamy's car eventually stopped outside a building indis
tinguishable from the others. Lasalle jumped out of his own car, clutching the brief case he had held on to since leaving
Paris. Lamy escorted him into a large room with a wood
block floor gleaming like glass. At the far end General de Forge waited, seated behind a large desk.

Lamy marched forward while Lasalle strolled, taking his time, glancing curiously round the room. Hanging from the
right-hand wall was a huge banner carrying the symbol of
the Cross of Lorraine, de Gaulle's symbol when he formed the Free French during World War n.

'Welcome to Third Corps GHQ,' de Forge said in a stiff voice as he remained seated.

Lasalle sat in the hard-backed chair on the far side of the desk, facing the General across the acre or so of desk. No papers. Three phones of differing colours. A blotter framed in leather.

'Does he have to remain?' Lasalle enquired, nodding his
head towards Lamy as though he were the Army's mascot.
Lamy, standing erect, hands clasped behind his back, stiffened even more. He looked at his master.

'It is the custom.' de Forge informed him, 'for Major
Lamy to be present, even for meetings of minor importance.'

Lasalle nodded, ignoring the insult. Unfastening his brief
case, he extracted a folded sheet of paper and laid it in his lap. He stared straight at de Forge, his expression giving no
clue as to his mood. But his tone of voice was like a
whiplash.

'This is a serious matter which brings me here. May I remind you that under the Constitution the military is entirely subordinate to - the servant of - the civil power? I represent that civil power. Let us be very clear on that before I proceed.'

'Proceed, then.' de Forge ordered, his face bleak.

'We have had several cases - even numerous instances -of unauthorized personnel impersonating DST officers. I don't have to remind you that is a grave offence, I take it.'

'I have no idea what the hell you are talking about.'

'Give me just a minute more and all will be clear. I have outside two examples of men who impersonated DST officers.' Lasalle stood up. 'Could you please accompany me.'

'Why should I?'

'Because I am ordering you to, General.'

'You have no power to order me to do anything!' de
Forge roared in his parade ground voice.

Lasalle made no reply. He leaned over the desk, handed the folded sheet to de Forge. The General glanced at Lamy, looked back at Lasalle, who remained staring back coldly. De Forge slowly opened the sheet. His eyes saw the printed
logo at the top, realized it was a
sheet of the personal
stationery of the Minister of the Interior. He read the instruc
tion.
You will co-operate with my emissary, Rene Lasalle, Chief
of the Direction de la Surveillance du Territoire. You will accede to any request he may make. He has plenipotentiary powers.

'Now perhaps you will come outside with me.' Lasalle
said quietly.

Lasalle walked more briskly back down the long room
than his pace on entering. Half-way to the door, he paused,
looked back. De Forge was following, his riding boots
as brilliantly polished as the floor. Lamy remained by the
desk.

'Major Lamy,' Lasalle called out, taking command, 'you will come too.'

He resumed his brisk trot to the door, opened it, looked
outside. His orders had been obeyed. Escort cars had moved
to the far side along with his own vehicle. The ambulance
stood backed up to the entrance, doors still shut, two men
in white coats standing by the step. Lasalle stood aside,
watched.

General de Forge emerged from his office, stood stock
still, taking in the long convoy at a glance. His thin lips
tightened.

'This is an invasion.'

'You could call it that,' Lasalle agreed. 'DST officers, real
ones, all armed. Also CRS, again armed, as you can see.'

'This is an outrage ...'

'I call it a precaution,' Lasalle replied mildly.

'What impertinence have you called me out here for?' He
saw some soldiers standing, gazing at the spectacle. He
turned to Lamy. 'Major, send all those men immediately for a run over the obstacle course in full battle order.'

'That can wait,' Lasalle said firmly. 'Major Lamy may
also be interested to see this.'

He nodded to the two white-coated men, descended the
steps to join them, followed by de Forge and Lamy. Opening
the rear doors, the two men stood on the step. A blast of icy air rushed out of the interior. De Forge and Lamy stared at
the interior. Large metal drawers were stacked inside. A
drawer at floor level was opened. The white-coated men
stood back, Lasalle waved a hand.

'I told you I had brought two men who impersonated
DST officers in Bordeaux.'

The white-coated couple opened another drawer. In each drawer a half-clothed corpse was stretched out, its head perched on a wooden block. Icy air from the refrigerated mobile morgue continued to flow out.

'Those men are dead,' Lamy burst out.

'You are most observant.' Lasalle commented. 'They are soldiers - presumably from the Third Corps since they were found in Bordeaux.'

'How on earth do you know that?' de Forge asked
contemptuously.

'Oh, they carried no identification except the fake DST credentials. They were dressed in civilian clothes - but one point was overlooked. Those underclothes are Army issue. That point is certain.'

De Forge looked at Lamy. The Chief of Intelligence went
closer to the corpses. He swung on his heel, addressing the
General.

'I recognize both men now, sir. They are deserters -disappeared from their unit weeks ago.'

Lamy could think fast. Lasalle privately paid him that compliment. But he did not let go so easily.

'Posted officially as deserters?'

'Major Lamy,' de Forge intervened, catching on, 'go and fetch the records so we can show the gentleman from Paris.'

He walked back into the building as Lamy ran round the
corner of the building and disappeared. Lasalle nodded
before following de Forge. The white-coated men closed the
drawers with their grisly contents: both bodies were badly damaged round the skulls. He followed de Forge back into the building.

'Both men were involved in a brutal murder.' Lasalle
informed de Forge as they waited for Lamy: de Forge seated
at his desk while Lasalle wandered back and forth in front
of it. His restlessness irked de Forge but the General sat immobile as a statue.

'Deserters are scum.' de Forge eventually responded.

'If they were deserters.' Lasalle phrased his comment carefully. 'Someone clever was giving them orders ...'

He broke off as Major Lamy marched towards the desk,
a file under his arm, ignoring Lasalle. He placed the file in front of the General.

'Privates Gillet and Perron.' he reported. 'Deserted five
weeks ago. Not seen since.'

'There you are.'

De Forge waved towards the two sheets he had glanced
at. He made no move to hand them to Lasalle. The DST
chief reached across the desk swiftly, grabbed the sheets, looked at them.

'Those copies are our property.' de Forge warned.

Lasalle was holding the sheets up to the light. He turned each sheet in turn to different angles. Then he slipped them inside his briefcase, snapped it shut.

'Must I remind you I am conducting a murder investi
gation? These records represent vital
evidence. A spectro
scope examination will prove whether these so called
records were, as I suspect, produced within the past five
minutes.'

'I deeply resent your implication.' Lamy snapped.

'All part of my work. The civil power takes precedence over the military.' He stood up. 'Thank you for your cooperation. I will be back...'

De Forge waited until he heard the convoy moving off.
He then gave Lamy the order. 'Organize really ferocious
riots in Lyons. We must move fast.'

Chapter Twenty

Newman heard the phone ringing when he opened the door
of his ground-floor flat at Beresforde Road, South Ken. He
ran, sure it would cease ringing just as he reached the
instrument in the large living room. Grabbing the receiver,
he gave his number - but omitted his name. It was Tweed.

'Bob, I thought you ought to know. Lasalle has called me
from Bordeaux. The two phoney DST men who took Francis
Carey from the Bar Miami before he was murdered have
been found at the apartment of Isabelle Thomas's
mother...'

'Found? What does that mean?'

'Curb your anxiety. I haven't finished. The Prefect of
Bordeaux received an anonymous call - from a girl, he
believes - who reported the presence of the two men. She said they were unconscious. In the basement. The police found them. Both men were dead.'

'Oh, God! How had they died?'

'Very curious. No one is certain. But they had fallen two
floors, their skulls crushed. Do you think Isabelle could have
done that?'

'Not deliberately. Seems unlikely she'd have coped with two of them - although she's exceptionally strong. Swims every day in a leisure club. You say Lasalle called from
Bordeaux?'