Scent of Triumph (16 page)

She bit her lip in silent admonishment. With a grimace, she glanced down at her black mourning dress.

Marie cast a sideways glance at Danielle from under her spring hat and drew her finely arched brows together. “You have a great deal on your mind. But even you need a quiet respite from time to time.”

Danielle gave her a wan smile and pushed thoughts of Max and Jon from her mind.

Marie waved her hand in a graceful gesture. “Just enjoy the day,
ma chère
. Ah, how could one not love Paris? It’s the embodiment of romance and style, of elegance and civility.”

Danielle agreed, admiring her mother’s
joie de vivre
. “You’re fortunate to call it home.”

“What about you?” Marie put her arm around Danielle. “It will always be your home,
n’est-ce pas
? You’ll return to live here, won’t you?”

Danielle caught her mother’s hand, squeezed it. “Maman, what if France were to fall to the Nazis?”

Marie threw a sharp look at Danielle. “We’re told the Maginot Line, with its underground fortifications, is sure to protect France. It’s virtually impenetrable.”

“Do you really think so?”

Marie paused. “I admit, I am worried. Actually, your father and I have discussed leaving for an extended holiday, just in case, but you know your father. It’s the bank that keeps him here.” She shook her head. “If only I could persuade him otherwise.”

Danielle nodded. She was relieved to know her parents were at least aware of the situation. So many people believed war was something that happened to others. She grew sick inside as she thought of it. Norway and Denmark had fallen to the Nazis last month. And since she’d left Grasse, Holland and Belgium had been invaded. France could be next, no matter how the government assured the people. She had already witnessed the enemy’s wrath.

Marie adjusted the broad brim of her pale pink hat against the sun. “I’m very concerned for you on this journey,
ma chère
.” She lowered her voice. “How long do you plan to be in Poland?”

“Not long, I hope.” Danielle shrugged. “A few days, a week, two or three at the most.”

“And if you have trouble finding them?”

“I’ll stay until I do.”

“Well, Jasmin will be fine here, no matter how long it takes.”

“I appreciate it.” She heaved a sigh. “If only Sofia had been well enough to travel with Nicky, to meet here as we’d planned. We should never have left him.”

Marie stroked Danielle’s long flowing hair. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. We can’t know the future,
ma chère
.”

“I remember you always said that, even when we were little.” Danielle’s stomach churned with anxiety. “I have so much to learn, Maman. How did you become so wise?”

“Life teaches you,” Marie said gently. “Or it breaks you.”

“I shall not be broken.”

“No, you’re strong. Just give yourself time. And remember that you are loved, my little one.”

Danielle kissed her on the cheek. “I love you, too.”

Marie glanced over her shoulder. “Tell me,” she began, lowering her voice, “how are you able to travel into Poland?”

Danielle had known this question would surface. Jean-Claude had warned her.
Should I tell her?
She bowed her head and studied her fingernails, but her pulse quickened. “Max had some important contacts. They’ve agreed to help me.”

“I see.”

“It’s a strict secret, though.”

Marie regarded Danielle with skepticism. “It sounds risky. These people must have valued Max’s friendship a great deal.”

Danielle thought of her brother. Selecting her words with care, she continued. “They’re very good people. It must remain a secret,” she whispered, then added, “I’ve said too much already.”

Marie inclined her head. “If anyone asks, we’ll say you returned to Philippe’s farm for a visit.”

“I’d appreciate that. He will, too, I mean...they will, appreciate it, naturally.” Danielle winced. She’d better not stammer in front of a Nazi soldier. “Please understand, I must do this.”

“I know.” Marie hugged her tightly. “Courage,
ma chère
.”

Later that afternoon, Danielle and her mother parted. Marie sent Danielle on her way to Jean-Claude’s flat, where she was staying. Hélène was helping her look after Jasmin.

Walking through the square of the Place Vendôme, Marie began to piece together the puzzle: Jean-Claude’s late nights, his increasing passion for politics, the ease with which Danielle was returning to Poland, the vagueness of her explanation.

Marie was worried, her skin crawled with unease. She recalled the confrontation between Edouard and Jean-Claude over the New Year holiday. Could Jean-Claude be involved with some freedom organization?

She had heard about such organizations, and that members often would not, or could not, speak about it, even to their families, under threat of death. How then, had Danielle become involved?

Jean-Claude must have taken pity on her, she decided. She recalled with pride how his desire to ease the suffering of others drew him to the medical profession. As a young boy, he fed abandoned baby birds, and once splinted a dog’s broken leg. Yes, Jean-Claude must have helped her. Marie wondered how involved Jean-Claude had become. And did Hélène know?

She couldn’t stand the thought of losing either of her children. The tragedy of little Nicky gone missing, and now Max’s death, was horrible enough. Marie wasn’t certain she could endure the tragedies her daughter had. Why, if anything ever happened to her children...she shook her head, pushing the thought away. Yes, Danielle was strong. Stronger than she was in many ways.

Winded, Marie pressed her hand to her chest. She would do anything for her children. She realized she must also allow Danielle the same privilege of responsibility, and put aside her own motherly concerns.
Dear God, bless my children in their efforts.

Marie sighed, nodding to the doorman as she entered the Ritz.

* * *

Danielle had finished feeding Jasmin again, and now, ensconced in the guest bedroom of Jean-Claude’s crowded flat, she began to change for dinner. She shrugged out of her black dress and changed into a pale blue dress that Hélène had given her. To hell with traditional widow’s wear, she decided, Max always liked me in brighter colors. As she buttoned the last button, a soft knock sounded at her door.

“Come in.”

Jean-Claude rushed in, shut the door behind him, and deposited a small cosmetics train case on the bed.

Danielle glanced at it, then turned to her brother. “I wondered what had happened to you. How was school?”

Jean-Claude put his finger to his lips, signaling silence, then whispered, “No need to keep up the pretense with you, Danielle. I haven’t been to class in months. The cause needs me.”

“But what about your career? You’ve always wanted to be a surgeon. And how will you explain this to Hélène?”

Jean-Claude’s dark eyes blazed. “When there is peace, I’ll return to school. Hélène will understand. Eventually.”

“Why don’t you tell her?”

He shrugged. “She wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t like it. It’s just easier this way.” He took Danielle’s shoulders and gazed directly into her eyes. “We haven’t much time. Hélène will be ready in a moment, and we’re due at dinner in half an hour.” He extracted a small package from his jacket and handed it to her. “Here, open this first.”

Danielle did so. The package held a bright yellow fabric flower, and a brilliant yellow and green scarf. She raised a brow to Jean-Claude. “A parting gift?”

He flashed a conspiratorial grin. “You must wear these items tomorrow on your trip. Wait, there’s more.” He fished an envelope from the other side of his leather bomber jacket. “These are your official papers.”

Relief surged through Danielle. “Have any trouble getting them?”

“That’s what took me so long today.”

Danielle sorted through the documents as Jean-Claude explained each one. She was impressed with his efficiency, and made a mental note to emulate his tone and manner on her trip.

Jean-Claude pointed to the documents. “Here’s your passport, your travel visa. You’ll be traveling as the wife of a high-ranking Nazi party member.”

“Jean-Claude! Did you have to be so bold about my cover?”

He chuckled. “Trust me, this way you won’t be questioned much. No underling wants to incur the wrath of your husband.”

Danielle grimaced. “Nor do I. A devil, is he?”

“One of the worst.” His expression darkened. “
D’accord
, here’s the plan. Pin the flower to your hat, wear the scarf around your neck. Wear them at all times. At all times, do you understand?”

“At all times,” Danielle intoned.

“
Bon
. The scarf and flower will identify you to people who will look after you if, and only if, you need it.”

Danielle raised her chin. “Why would I need their help?”

Jean-Claude cast a sidelong glance at her. “Why do you think?”

“If I’m caught, I won’t reveal anything.”

“Danielle, I’m not saying you would.” He turned his back to her and crossed to the window. Standing to one side, he pulled the shade ajar and peered outside. “These people are only there to save you from disaster, if possible. Remember, finding Nicky and Sofia is only one part of your mission.”

Danielle watched Jean-Claude at the window, wondering who or what he was looking for. Suddenly, her decision to return to Poland seemed much more dangerous than she’d realized. Her mouth went dry.

Seeming satisfied, Jean-Claude turned back to her. “Now, when someone says to you, ‘
Your flower is the color of the daffodils in my grandmother’s garden
,’ just like the line from our nursery book, they can be trusted. Do precisely as they say. Speak to no one else. Trust no one.”

Danielle swallowed. “I understand.”

He gestured to the documents she held in her hand. “After dinner, study those well. Know them by heart—the address, your husband’s name and rank, every number in there.”

She scanned the documents. “These are quite convincing.”

“They’d better be.”

Sounds of Hélène bustling around the apartment filtered through the door.

Jean-Claude placed his hands on Danielle’s shoulders, searching her face. His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “Many lives depend on this mission. Not to put pressure on you, but so you understand.”

“I do,” she answered solemnly, and realized he was nervous about her mission, too.
And I will do this,
she told herself.
For Nicky.
With a trembling hand, she raised the passport. “Is there really a Frau Werner?”

“Yes, she sympathizes with us, and she’s happy to spend a week or two with her Jewish lover. As Frau Werner, you’re going ahead to sort out living arrangements at her husband’s new post, or that’s the story. You’ll have to work quickly, before he arrives.”

Danielle nodded, striving to commit every detail to memory. “What will I do when I arrive?”

“You’ll be met at the train by a driver who will recognize your hat and scarf.”

“Can the driver be trusted?”

Jean-Claude squeezed her shoulders. “Only if he says what?”

She furrowed her brow in thought. “
Your flower is the color of the daffodils in my grandmother’s garden
.”

A proud grin spread across Jean-Claude’s face. “Right. Now, here’s what we ask of you.” He released her and picked up the small brown train case he had put on the bed. “I’ve put some cosmetics in this. When you arrive, give the case to the driver. Until then, keep it with you at all times.”

The hair on Danielle’s neck prickled. “What’s in the case?”

Jean-Claude tugged on the bottom of the case. It swung open, revealing a false bottom containing row upon row of minuscule electrical devices. “Make sure it is secure, like so.” He snapped it back in place. “Here, you try it.”

Danielle limbered her fingers and tested the case.

“Perfect.” He took the case from her and put it by the door. “About your schedule: Every morning your driver will meet you, supposedly for you to shop for suitable accommodations. This is when you can search for Nicky and Sofia. But you must return every evening after the close of normal business hours. Otherwise, you’ll arouse suspicion. Do you understand?”

Listening intently, Danielle nodded. “Where will I stay?”

“Your driver will arrange that, as well as your return.”

Danielle lifted a brow. “Isn’t that worked out yet?”

Jean-Claude shot her a glance. “I’m working on it. You didn’t give me much notice, you know. Now, as for language, you must only speak German.”

“I’m glad we studied it in school.”

Jean-Claude grinned at her. “You were always good at languages. As Frau Werner, you do not understand any other language. If someone speaks to you in French, or Polish, or English, do not answer. Do not even appear to understand. You will tip your hand if you do. Keep your answers short and mind your pronunciation.”

“And if I need help?”

He handed her a slip of folded paper. “Your driver will arrange everything. If for any reason he does not appear one day, you must call this number and return immediately.” He paused to wipe perspiration from his upper lip. “Memorize the number and destroy this paper.”

Danielle placed the paper next to her purse. Her head swam with details, but she was determined. Nicky was waiting for her, somewhere. “Is that all?”

“One more thing.” His eyes roved over her hair. “You must hide that mane of auburn hair. It’s like a beacon, far too memorable.” He jerked a thumb toward the train case. “You’ll find a bottle of brown hair dye in there. Use it tonight.”

Danielle touched her hair, considering. “I’ll tell Maman that brunettes are all the rage.”

“That’s good, very good.” Jean-Claude folded his arms. “The rest is up to you, Danielle.”

Hélène’s voice sounded through the door. “Jean-Claude, Danielle. We’re ready to go.”

Danielle embraced her brother. “Thank you for helping me reunite my family, or what’s left of it.”

Jean-Claude touched her cheek. “Max was a good man, Danielle. He died a hero. I pray the life of his own son will be spared in return.”