Darkest Longings (88 page)

birth, but Francois thought he could learn to ride. The child

was more excited than I’d ever seen him. He cried when

Francois left, and he wouldn’t stop crying. I put him to bed and

sat with him until finally he fell asleep, then I took the pillow,

covered his face and held it there until I knew he was dead.’

His last word fell into silence. His hands were shaking

and now there were tears on his cheeks. He was trapped,

Claudine knew, in the nightmare of the past, unable to bring

himself back to the present, unable to escape the stalking

shadow of guilt. In the end, her voice so thick with emotion

she could barely speak, she said his name.

He looked up in surprise, almost as if he had forgotten she was there. Then his face contorted. ‘A sorry tale, isn’t

it?’ he said scathingly. ‘One that I thought was going to end

there, because I thought I was finally rid of him, that he

couldn’t torment me any more. That living each day in the

knowledge that the person I loved most in the world loved

Francois de Lorvoire - that nightmare was over. You see, I

couldn’t take that any more. I’d lived with it for two years.

Two years of unadulterated hell, when first my wife, then

my son …’ He started to sob, and Claudine moved to

comfort him. But he pushed her away, wiping the back of his

hand over his eyes.

‘But he was your son?’ she prompted gently.

‘Oh yes, he was my son all right. Father Pointeau told me.

But it was too late by then. I’d already killed him.’

‘But how did Father Pointeau know?’

‘She’d confessed. Before she died, Jacqueline had

confessed her sins and told him how she’d lied to me. She

also told him never to tell me - never to let me be certain that

I was the father of my own son. How she must have hated

me to do that to me! Father Pointeau, of course, tried to

reason with her, tried to make her understand that she must

make peace with the world before going to meet her Maker.

But she refused. So, obeying the laws of confession, Father

Pointeau kept her secret - until the morning after I had

killed my son. He told me then, he said, because for a whole

year he had witnessed my misery and he couldn’t bear to see

me suffering any longer. The Good Lord would not want

him to keep such a secret, he said, so he told me.

‘Of course he didn’t know then that the child was dead, I

hadn’t told him. Can you imagine how I felt then, Claudine?

Can you even begin to understand? It was too late, the child,

my son, was already dead. My son who loved Francois,

whose mother loved Francois. And I, who had once loved

him too, swore that day that he would pay for what he had

done to my family. I sat there, in the confessional, and told

Father Pointeau everything. Then I told him what I

intended to do. How I would make Francois de Lorvoire

suffer as I was suffering, how I would kill those he loved

until he, like me, had no one. But more than that, I vowed

that if he ever had a son I would make him kill that son, as he

had made me kill mine.’

Claudine looked at Louis. ‘I am so sorry, Armand,’ she

whispered. Words seemed so inadequate. ‘I didn’t know.

Neither of us did. If we had …’

‘If you had, then what? There was nothing you could do,

it was already too late. The damage was done, my wife and

son were dead, and Francois de Lorvoire was going to pay.

Nothing, no one would have changed my mind. Don’t you

think Father Pointeau tried? I let him think he’d succeeded,

of course. I was a fool ever to have told him. And I

was to find out just how big a fool within a matter of days.

Von Liebermann had one of his snoops listening in to the

confessions. He’d had someone there for a long time, it

was just one of his many methods of getting information

about Francois. Of course, von Liebermann didn’t know

then that Francois was working for the Secret Service, but

he suspected it. So I, just like Francois, became a pawn in

von Liebermann’s game. And whenever Francois didn’t

play to his rules, that was when I got my chance. But even

so, von Liebermann never did manage to turn Francois,

make him the double agent he wanted him to be. Because

Francois is meaner, uglier and cleverer than any man

alive.’

Armand’s voice was thick with scorn, his mouth twisted

with venom. ‘The man isn’t human, he’s a devil, the devil.

His only weakness is that he loves, and that is why I’ve

used it as my weapon against him.’

‘But so many people, Armand! Not only those Francois

loved, but Yves and Thomas, the pilots and agents who were

captured in the escape-line, Estelle … Why did you kill Estelle?’

‘You saw her that day in the forest, cavorting with his

brother. Another de Lorvoire. I’d lost my wife to one, I’d

lost my son because of one -I wasn’t going to lose her to one

as well. She paid, you’ll all pay, but this will be the bitterest

price. As for the others … Regrettable, but there was

nothing I could do. I was a tool of the Abwehr. They made

me do it. Stinking, filthy Germans, I despise them. They’ve

manipulated me all the way. But not any more. They won’t

be able to control my life ever again, because after today

they’ll have nothing on me. Because Francois will be dead.

It will all be over, and at last I shall be free.’

‘No, Armand, you won’t be free. No matter what you do

to Francois you’ll never be free, because nothing you do is

going to bring your son back.’

He stared at her, blinking as though she had delivered

him a brutal blow.

‘She’s right, Armand.’

A shadow fell across the barn, and they both spun round

to see Francois standing at the centre of the arch.

‘Papa!’ Louis shrieked. And oblivious to the gun pressed

against his head, he started to struggle over Armand’s leg to

get to Francois. Then, to Claudine’s amazement, Armand

lowered his leg and let Louis go.

She watched as he flew across the barn into his father’s

arms. Francois scooped him up and Louis clung to him,

sobs shuddering from his little body as he buried his face in Francois’ shoulder. But Francois wasn’t looking at Louis, his eyes were fixed on Armand.

Claudine turned back, then started as she saw Armand’s

gun only inches from her face. ‘So,’ Armand hissed, looking

at her but speaking to Francois, ‘you’ve come at last.’

Francois didn’t answer.

Armand shifted so that his back was against the wall

beside Claudine. Then gesturing towards the floor in front

of him, he made her lie down.

‘On your front!’ he growled. ‘Put your hands under your

body and turn your face to me.’

She did as he told her, and then, keeping the gun out of

her reach but still aimed at her head, Armand lifted his eyes

to Francois. ‘I take it you’ve been there for some time,’ he

sneered.

‘Long enough,’ Francois replied.

‘So tell me. How does it feel to know that Halunke, the

only man you’ve ever feared, was all the time fucking your

wife? Does it feel good, Francois? Or do you want to kill me

for it? I even drank your son’s milk from her breasts. I

suckled her, Francois. How does that make you feel? Does it

get to you, right deep down inside?’ He twisted a hand into

his gut. ‘Because that’s where it got me, Francois. It got me,

and ate me like a cancer. But we’re equal now, aren’t we?

You made my wife love you, and I made yours love me. But it

doesn’t end there, does it? It doesn’t end there Francois, because

you made me kill my son!’ Armand stopped and wiped the

saliva from his lips with the back of his hand. ‘So you know

what you have to do. You’ve ruined my life, de Lorvoire, and

now I’m going to ruin yours. So kill him, kill him now, or I’ll

kill her.’

For a long moment Francois merely stared at him. Then,

without uttering a word, he put Louis oh the ground, took

him by the hand and walked away.

Claudine knew they had gone, she could hear their

footsteps crunching on the gravel. Her heart started to

pound in her chest. He had gone; he hadn’t spoken a word,

he had just walked away.

Armand swore violently under his breath, and her eyes

dilated as his hand tightened on the gun.

Then he started to laugh, a low rumbling sound that

seemed to creep into every shadowy corner of the barn. ‘So

he’s fooled us both! He’s fooled you, and me, he’s fooled us

all. Francois de Lorvoire has won again! Yes, he even

managed to convince me that he loved you. But he doesn’t

love you, does he, Claudine? Because he’s left you here to

die. He’s walking away. He’s made his choice, and he’s left

you. But as far as he was concerned there never was a

choice, because all that matters to him is his son. You don’t

matter at all, you never did. So how does it feel, Claudine, to

know that he’s tricked you as foully and as ingeniously as

he’s tricked everyone else? How does it feel to be one of his

victims? Hurts doesn’t it? It hurts here.’ He thumped his fist

into his heart. ‘So why don’t I put you out of your misery?’

He hooked his thumb over the cock and drew it back.

Claudine closed her eyes, and through the horror of what

was happening to her she started to pray.

The shot blasted into the silence, ricocheting from the

walls, vibrating from the beams and echoing out into the

field where it finally faded into the chill, empty air.

Still holding Louis’ hand Francois kept on walking, not

betraying, even by the twitch of a muscle, that he had heard

the shot.

Minute after minute ticked by. The wind rustled the trees

behind the barn, and the magnificent chateau of RignyUsse

slumbered peacefully on the opposite bank of the Indre. Besides Francois and Louis, the only other sign of life was inside the Mercedes, parked on the cart track

halfway between the field gate and the barn. From behind

the open window in the rear seat von Liebermann and Max

Helber watched as de Lorvoire finally stopped at his jeep,

stooped to speak to his son, then handed him up to his sister.

Then she drove away.

Another ten minutes slipped by. Clouds massed angrily

overhead; the rain didn’t come, but the sky darkened about

the sun covering its face with black, bulbous warts of cloud.

Inside the barn, Armand stood up. A sheen of sweat

glimmered on his face, but his senses were brittly alert. He

stepped over Claudine and stole quietly across the barn to

the arch. As he peered outside, he prepared the gun to fire

again. Then his eyes narrowed dangerously as he saw

someone sitting on the bank of the river with a fishing rod.

‘Get over here,’ he hissed to Claudine.

Too terrorized to do anything other than obey, Claudine

got up and went to stand beside him.

‘Who’s that?’ he growled.

Claudine turned to look where he was pointing and as she

recognized the man sitting nonchalantly on the riverbank, a

sob gurgled in her throat. She had no idea how he had got

here, but it was her father, and she was so swamped by relief

that it was all she could do to stop herself collapsing. She

knew she should never have doubted Francois, but when

she had heard his footsteps retreat, when he had gone with

no arguments, no protests, no attempt even to reason with

Armand, she had believed … But now she knew that

somehow he was in charge of the situation. Somehow he

had found out about the torturous climax Armand and von

Liebermann had plotted between them, and had laid his

own plans. And if Beavis was here, perhaps there were

others.

‘Who is it?’ Armand seethed.

‘It’s my father,’ she answered, knowing that he would

recognize him sooner or later.

Armand uttered a stream of obscenities, then pushing her

in front of him and jamming the gun into her neck, he edged

a short way out of the barn. Seeing von Liebermann’s car,

he waited for a sign to tell him what was happening, but the

General’s face was lost in shadow.

Then suddenly both Armand and Claudine spun round

as they heard a footstep behind them. It was Lucien,

standing at the corner of the barn.

‘At last,’ Lucien said, starting towards them. ‘We were

beginning to think you would never come out. Now put the

gun down, Armand, and let’s talk.’

Before Armand could answer, someone else was striding

up behind him, and he twisted round again to see a masked

figure coming from the other side of the barn. ‘Hand it over,

there’s a good chap.’ The American accent was strong Claudine

suddenly realized that this must be Jack Bingham.

Armand took a step back, pulling Claudine with him, his

eyes darting between Lucien and Bingham. Then he

noticed that Beavis had gone. ‘Get away from me!’ he

growled. ‘Get away or I’ll kill her.’

‘And what then?’ Lucien said mildly.

Armand stared at him.

‘And what then, Armand?’ he repeated. ‘Tell me, Armand!’

Armand flinched as Lucien boomed out his name, then