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Authors: Susan Lewis

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shoulders he pulled her back against him. ‘So you see, ma

cherie, why I have told you nothing these past months. What

you do not know you cannot tell.’ She drew in her breath

sharply as his hand slipped inside her dress. ‘Now all you

have to do, Elise, is decide whether your allegiance is to me,

or to the Nazis.’

‘It is to you, Francois! It has always been to you.’

‘But when I join with them, your conscience will not be

troubled? You will come with me?’

‘Yes! I’ve told you before …’ She gasped as his fingers

closed over her nipple, and she wanted him so desperately

that she could think of nothing else.

‘Do you want to make love, Elise?’ he murmured in her

ear.

‘Yes, oh yes,’ she moaned, turning in his arms.

He looked down at her, and when he saw the lust in her

eyes an ugly sneer curled across his lips. ‘Then as a

professional whore you should have no trouble in finding

someone to satisfy you,’ he said, and letting her go, he

turned and walked out of the room.

 

‘I have all the information you require,’ Francois told Max

Helber moments after Elise had left them.

 

Helber’s wide eyes gleamed, then looking about the

room, he said, ‘We are alone?’

‘The maid has left too,’ Francois confirmed.

‘Then begin.’

Francois sipped his cognac, relaxing back into his chair.

He eyed the German for some time, inuring himself to the

revulsion he felt for that smooth, fleshy face with its half

timid, half-greedy smile. He had never understood how one

man could be attracted to another, and that he should find

himself the object of such perverse fantasy disgusted him

like nothing else. But these were Helber’s terms for

tendering his invaluable morsels of intelligence, and

Francois had no choice but to accept them.

When finally he spoke, his voice had a rich, mellifluous

tone guaranteed to make Helber squirm in his chair. ‘I have

in my possession,’ he began, ‘a series of maps indicating all

factories in Great Britain involved in the manufacture of

munitions.’

‘And France?’ Helber said, uncrossing his legs.

‘Not yet.’

‘But you will be able to supply them?’

‘I believe so.’

‘Good.’ Helber considered for a moment. ‘And now

perhaps you would like to tell me where you have been these

past weeks?’

‘Certainly. But before I do I want some information from

you.’

A lascivious light leapt into Helber’s eyes as it always did

when his turn came to impart intelligence. ‘So soon?’ he

said, running the tip of his pink tongue over his lips. ‘Then

of course I shall oblige. What would you like to know?’

Francois watched as the loathsome man set down his

glass and started to unbutton his fly. ‘I want to know who von

Liebermann has employed to watch my family.’

Helber showed no surprise. His plump lips parted in a

 

smile and his girlish fingers pulled his penis from his

trousers. ‘Does it matter who it is?’ he said, resting his hands on the arms of the chair.

‘Yes.’

‘But why? You must surely be aware that it is in all of our

interests to know where you are at all times. Your safety is of

the utmost concern to the General.’

Francois let that pass. ‘I want to know the name of the

man snooping about Lorvoire,’ he said.

‘I fail to see why his name should be important. He is

there merely to ensure that you do not act in the interests of

anyone but The Reich.’

‘Have you any reason to believe I have ever done

otherwise?’

‘Plenty, my friend,’ Helber laughed, only just managing

to resist the urge to start stroking himself. ‘You act in your

own interests, we know that, we accept it. But there is a war

approaching, a time when each and every man must declare

his fealty to one side or the other.’

Francois’ jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. ‘This

man, he has a personal vendetta against me, does he not?’

This time Helber allowed his surprise to show. ‘What

makes you ask such a question?’

‘Because it is your style to ferret out these people. They

are easier to control when their motives are personal.’

Hearing the turbulent note in the Wine Supplier’s voice,

Helber could restrain himself no longer, and almost

groaned aloud as his fingers circled his penis. ‘How is that

so?’

‘You simply offer to assist them in their revenge in

exchange for a little something you need to know. Then,

once you have the man - or woman - working for you, you

threaten to inform their victim of their identity if they don’t

continue to do so. It’s an old trick, Helber, but a good one.

So, who is he?’

 

‘I cannot tell you that, my friend.’

‘ Francois lowered his gaze to Helber’s hands and held it

for some time before looking back to the fleshy,

womanish face. ‘Then tell me if he means any harm to my

‘ family,’ he said.

Helber was beginning to pant. ‘I believe he does, yes,’ he

answered.

Now he was getting somewhere. Dropping his eyes again to Helber’s erection, Francois said, ‘Why don’t you join me on the sofa, Max?’

For one dreadful moment he thought Helber was going

to ejaculate on the spot, but he managed to contain himself

and settled beside Francois on the sofa. Francois said, ‘You

understand what I am offering for this information, Max?’

Helber nodded, but for the moment, with Francois’

powerful body so temptingly close, he was unable to speak.

‘Tell me what I want to know, Max,’ Francois coaxed.

Still Helber was unable to speak as Francois’ hand waited

to take his penis. ‘Is he German?’ Francois said.

Helber shook his head.

‘French?’

Helber nodded.

‘His name, Max,’ Francois said, fighting the nausea as he

took the man’s penis in his hand.

Helber’s breath wheezed from his lungs and he started to

grunt.

‘His name,’ Francois encouraged, starting to move his

hand.

Helber’s lips were trembling, and a high-pitched sound

was coming from the back of his throat. Francois lowered

his hand to the man’s testicles and Helber started to

splutter.

‘His name!’ Francois roared, and he clenched his fist so

viciously that Helber screamed, and Francois leapt to his

feet as the semen spurted over his hand and onto his

 

shoulder. Snatching a handkerchief from his pocket, he

wiped his fingers, and saw Helber’s eyes roll back in their

sockets in the dying throes of his ecstasy. Christ, he should

have known that wouldn’t work with a creep like Helber.

The man was a Goddamned masochist.

He went to the bathroom and scrubbed his hands under

scalding water. By the time he returned, Helber had

regained his composure and was sipping another cognac.

Francois never failed to be surprised by Helber’s lack of

shame for his disgraceful behaviour; somehow it made the

man more intolerable than ever.

‘So,’ Helber said cheerfully, ‘you were going to tell me

where you have been these past weeks.’

Francois’ hard eyes contemplated him for several

minutes before he walked across the room and settled

against the edge of the table. He was weighing up in his

mind the little information Helber had ceded. He knew only

that the man watching him and his family was French, and

that his motives for doing so were personal. It didn’t narrow

the field greatly, but he would get Erich von Pappen onto it

and see what he came up with. He could start with Villiers,

the man Claudine had mentioned. In the meantime, he

knew exactly what it was going to take to persuade von

Liebermann to keep the man at bay.

‘I have been in Moscow,’ he answered.

Helber was immediately interested, but tried not to show

it. ‘Tell me more,’ he said casually.

‘As you are aware, Britain and France have opened

negotiations with the Kremlin in order to strengthen their

guarantee to Poland. Marshal Voroshilov, the principal

Soviet negotiator, informed them that his government has a

complete plan, with figures, for cooperation.’

‘The details?’

‘They have, ready to put into the field, one hundred and

twenty infantry divisions and sixteen cavalry divisions; five

 

thousand heavy and medium cannon, and approximately ten

thousand armoured vehicles.’

Helber nodded. ‘Impressive. How did the Poles react?’

Francois raised his eyebrows. Helber might be a disgusting

man but he wasn’t a stupid one. ‘Colonel Beck’s

government has refused to allow the Red Army into Poland

under any circumstances. To quote Marshal SmiglyRydz,

“With the Germans we risk losing our liberty, but with the

Russians we would lose our souls.” ‘

‘A shrewd man, Marshal SmiglyRydz,’ Helber commented.

‘And what chance, in your opinion, do the Allies

stand of changing the minds of the Polish government?’

‘In my opinion, little or none. However, talks are still

taking place.’

Helber got up and helped himself to yet another cognac.

‘I take it you have a full report on what you discovered, both

in England and Russia? And you can give me the charts you

mentioned earlier?’

Francois nodded. ‘They will be handed to you when you

cross the border back into Germany. Someone will telephone

you tomorrow, to tell you which station they have

been left at.’

‘Good. Good.’ Helber appeared extremely happy.

‘General von Liebermann will be most grateful to you, my

friend. Now, is there any further information you require

from me? Free of charge,’ he added, catching Francois’ eye.

‘You won’t have come empty-handed,’ Francois

answered, ‘so I’ll take what you’ve got - for what it’s worth.’

Helber opened his case and pulled out the documents Bruning and Grundhausen had sent by courier the week before. ‘I think you will find them interesting,’ he said.

Francois took the papers and put them on the table. ‘One

thing before you go, Helber,’ he said. ‘Having now

committed myself to the Nazi cause, I expect von

Liebermann to keep control of this Frenchman.’

 

‘Oh, he will, my friend, have no fear of that. As long as

you continue to prove your loyalty to the Fatherland, your

family will be safe. Incidentally, I am intrigued to know: how

does it feel to be a traitor to your own country?’

‘I imagine as good as it felt when I squeezed your balls.’

Helber left soon after, not entirely sure he understood

Francois’ answer. But the dull ache between his legs not

only reminded him that the Wine Supplier’s fingers had, for

the first time, been there, it also increased his determination

to see the man’s total surrender one of these days. And the

way things were developing, he might not have long to wait.

Twenty minutes later, as Francois followed Helber out

into the street, Halunke slithered down behind the steering

wheel of his car and watched the dark figure of his nemesis

get into his Citroen and drive off into the night. As he

disappeared from view, Halunke’s fingers tightened on the rossignol he would use later to pick the locks of La Pascale’s apartment. She was small compensation for his patience

when the great prize of de Lorvoire’s wife still remained so

elusive; but for now she was as far as von Liebermann would

allow him to go, and tonight she would bear the full brunt of

his frustration.

19

They had been back at Lorvoire for over a week now - and it

was as if the excitement of early July had never been.

Already, on the journey from Paris back to Touraine, they

had felt the change: war, for so long a remote possibility, had

become a real and imminent threat, and the countryside had

an eerie, almost end-of-the-world feel about it. As the hot

summer days passed; a hush seemed to settle all over

France, a terrible, portentous gloom. On the surface people

 

went about their normal business, but there was an

undercurrent of horror and disbelief. Few dared to voice it,

but everyone knew that France had neither the spirit nor the

strength to defend herself-even Lucien, who had arrived

unexpectedly in Paris for three days, had been unable to

kindle a spark of hope.

Within an hour of arriving at the chateau Claudine had

sent Magaly to find Armand, telling him to meet her at the

farmhouse. Their reunion was as passionate as their parting

had been, but Claudine sensed almost immediately that

something in him had changed.

‘The young men have gone,’ he said sadly, when she

questioned him. ‘They have been leaving every day for the

past week. I’d have gone myself, but I’m too old. Too old at

thirty-two, I ask you.’

Knowing now was not the moment to express her relief,

Claudine tried to tease him out of his dejection, but even she

was finding it difficult to remain unaffected by the pervading

air of pessimism. ‘Shall we sit outside, under the trees?’ she

said, and they took a rug and sat in the shade, her head

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