Paris: The Novel (149 page)

It was a little after one in the morning when Schmid began to question Louise. So far, he thought, things had gone very well.

It was unfortunate, of course, that so many policemen had been wounded. One of them was probably going to die. But that was a police problem, not his. Everything else had been entirely satisfactory.

It amused him that the prisoners dressed in Gestapo uniforms had given the game away. No doubt, thinking that they were about to be shot by the Resistance, they had hoped to help their colleagues by giving the game away. In fact, they had done the Gestapo a favor. It was far more discouraging for the Maquis to know they had been betrayed than to think, however mistakenly, that they had shot Müller. He wouldn’t have to keep the three men in prison any longer either. They could all be shot at dawn.

As for the mission, of course, he had already gotten the information he wanted the moment the attempt had been made.

Madame Louise was Corinne.

They had raided the brothel at midnight. The various officers using the place had been politely asked to leave. The girls had been asked for their papers, then sent home.

And now, at one in the morning, Madame Louise was sitting in an interrogation room in the rue des Saussaies.

He began quite politely.

“Madame, let me save you the tiresome and unpleasant business of denying your identity. The little comedy you witnessed between myself and Colonel Walter the other evening was in order to plant false information with you. You passed the information on to your contacts. As a result, an attempt was made tonight on a man pretending to be Müller. Thanks to this, we know for a certainty that you are Corinne.”

Louise said nothing.

“Perhaps you would like to tell me the names of your associates.”

Louise said nothing.

“Let us start with something easier then. How do you pass on the information?”

“There is a drop.”

“Thank you. And where is that?”

“In the River Seine.”

“Ah, madame. I am afraid it will be necessary for me to persuade you to do a little better than that.”

He worked on her for a while until she fainted.

It was time to turn in. If necessary, he could always bring other forces to bear on her. She had a son somewhere, he knew. Any threat to a child will break most parents. But it irked him professionally to have to resort to those means. He would persuade her. It would be a challenge to break her.

Early that morning, Max Le Sourd stopped in the rue de Montmorency and gazed toward L’Invitation au Voyage. There was a van and a Gestapo car in front of it.

He didn’t go any closer, but stopped at a nearby café to ask what had happened.

“They came at midnight last night and arrested Madame Louise,” he was told. “The place is closed. No one knows anything else.”

It was nearly ten in the morning when Schmid returned. But when he did, he received a shock.

“Dead? How? You did not leave a blanket or sheet in the cell?”

“No, Lieutenant.”

“A sharp object?”

The fellow looked embarrassed.

“A knife. When the guard brought her breakfast.”

They showed him. She had slit her wrists, in the correct manner. She had bled to death in minutes.

Schmid cursed and cursed, in fury. Then he ordered a car to take him to her house. That must be closed and sealed. At least he’d have her pictures.

As Thomas sat in his usual place by the bar, he supposed that he should be grateful. Luc hadn’t much wanted to have Charlie’s body in the cave at all, but as Thomas pointed out, it was less likely to be found there than anywhere else they could think of.

After that, he’d made his way home, where Édith had been more than relieved to see him. In the middle of the morning, Michel Dalou had come by to let him know that everyone had gotten back safely from the operation.

“Do you think anyone was identified?” Thomas asked.

“No. We all had face covering of some sort, and before the police recovered from the racket we made, we’d all run off.”

“That’s good.” Thomas didn’t tell him about Charlie. He’d have wanted to know what they’d done with the body.

“I heard we were set up,” said Michel Dalou.

“Maybe. Leave that to Max. He’ll work it out.”

“Are we safe?”

“Yes. Nobody got captured, and you say no one was seen—so the police and the Gestapo have nothing.”

“That’s good,” said Michel Dalou, and left.

But Thomas Gascon was thoughtful. The events of last night were forming a pattern in his mind. And it wasn’t a pattern he liked at all.

Corinne was Louise. He knew Louise: the girl that Luc had set up, long ago. She’d paid his brother too, for years, before they’d had a falling-out.

He remembered also how his brother had been so anxious that he should not go on the mission last night.

And what about the cave? He’d said he’d been preparing it as a hiding place for him. Yet he’d never mentioned the fact until last night. Did that make sense?

Stranger still, now that he thought of it, had been Luc’s reaction when he and Max had arrived with Charlie. At the time Thomas had been so concerned about Charlie that he hadn’t paid much attention. But what had Luc said? “They’ll know my hiding place.” But who? Max; Charlie, if he’d lived. Why was that so terrible? Was he planning to hide from them?
And then that final little cry: “Brother, you’ve just killed me.” He wasn’t just planning to hide from the Resistance. He thought that one day they’d kill him.

He remembered how Max had already been suspicious of his brother. And how he himself had made no comment, because, alas, he knew Luc’s character.

Luc had known that last night was a trap.

It was early afternoon when Max stopped at the bar.

“Louise has been arrested. Midnight last night. I think I’ve figured it out. There are two alternatives. They may have used her to lure us into a raid, so that they could capture us. But I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“Because they failed to catch us. They could have had plainclothesmen hidden around the place. They didn’t. So that wasn’t their object.”

“Go on.”

“I believe they set up Louise. Fed her false information that she passed on in good faith. They wanted to know if she was Corinne. By taking the bait, we confirmed it for them, and they arrested her. We just destroyed Louise.”

“So someone must have informed the Gestapo that Louise was Corinne,” Thomas reasoned.

“I think that must be it. One of her girls, perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” said Thomas.

Then he was very sad.

Luc was sitting alone in the room that gave onto his garden when Thomas arrived. He looked up a little anxiously when Thomas came in, and seemed relieved when he saw that his brother was alone. Thomas had a knapsack on his back. He put it down and went to sit beside him.

“I have a message from Max. He says thank you.” Thomas reached into his pocket and pulled out a flask of brandy. “We need a drink.” He poured two glasses. “What shall we drink to?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well then: To us.”

They drank. Thomas waited a little while.

“There is one thing more.” He paused. “I need you to tell me something.”

“Whatever you want.”

“I’ve been thinking about last night. I didn’t understand at first. Then I remembered how you had tried to stop me from going. You said you’d been having bad dreams. And you reminded me I could hide in the cave.”

Luc said nothing.

“You were trying to save me,” Thomas continued. “You tried to save your brother. I know it.” He put his arm around Luc. “Do you remember when I fought Bertrand Dalou after they took your balloon?” He held his brother closer. “It’s always just been you and me. And now you tried to save my life. Do you know what that means to me?”

“You’re my brother,” said Luc.

“But you have to tell me one thing. How did you know it was a trap? Who’s your contact? Is it one person, or are there many? I need to know so I can protect you.”

“I don’t think you can.”

“I can. Didn’t I always?”

Luc looked down at the floor. Then he took a deep breath.