The Black Baroness (55 page)

Read The Black Baroness Online

Authors: Dennis Wheatley

BOOK: The Black Baroness
4.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

‘Thanks.’ Gregory sank into a chair. ‘You’re right, sir; I have just got up out of my coffin—or near enough. I spent six days chasing that damned woman round Italy and when I at last ran her to earth she made a complete fool of me. Collimard’s disguise was admirable, but my hands gave me away. She knew who I was from the word “go” and she put poison in my wine—the hell cat! This time last night I was as near death as makes no difference, out at her villa on Lake Albano, but I managed
to save myself by the skin of my teeth, and Coîlimard behaved magnificently; he and Desaix managed to get me home.’

‘But,
mon ami,
you ought to be in bed.’

‘Of course,’ Gregory shrugged. ‘But how could anyone who has the strength to walk remain in bed at a time like this? I had to know what’s happening and I’ve come back to you again as a failure; but I mean to get that woman if I
die
for
it
. She’s here in France again—at least, she was leaving for France when I last saw her.’

Lacroix nodded. ‘She new from Italy yesterday evening and arrived back at her château in the Forest of Fontainebleau just before midnight. Directly I heard that I knew that you must have failed, so I’m having her watched; but, as you know, there is nothing that I can do against her.’

Gregory laughed a little weakly. ‘Maybe. But I’m still game to go after her. I’ll drive out there tonight, I’ve a feeling that she’s not going to be so lucky the third time that I get her on her own.’

‘I forbid you to do so,’ said the Colonel sharply. ‘You are in no fit state to undertake any such venture.’

Gregory’s chin came out in a stubborn line. ‘Forgive me, but I’m not under your orders,
mon Colonel
. I’m a free man and I shall make my own decision as to how and when I tackle
Madame la Baronne
. Still, before I go I’d consider it a real kindness if you’d let me into how things are shaping. The papers say so little.’

Lacroix flung out his small brown hands. ‘Matters could hardly be worse. It has been decided to declare Paris an open town, in order to save it from devastation. If it proves necessary our forces will be ordered to withdraw to fresh positions south of the city.’

‘Good God!’ Gregory exclaimed. ‘But the moral effect on your troops will be positively appalling. Paris is now a great, natural bastion in the very centre of your line. If every building in the suburbs were made a machine-gun nest the Germans would never be able to take the city, short of starving it into surrender. You could hold it for months while the old B.E.F. is being re-equipped and a far greater one being shipped over week by week to your assistance.’

‘And in the meantime?’ asked Lacroix. ‘We are no longer in 1870. The city suffered badly enough then from the German bombardments, but that is nothing compared to what the Ger
mans could do today with both guns and aeroplanes.’

‘But Paris covers a huge area. If the Germans bomb and shell it for weeks they may do quite a lot of damage but they couldn’t destroy it beyond repair.’

‘Would you, I wonder, take the same view if it were London that was threatened with destruction?’

‘Yes,’ cried Gregory angrily. ‘I’m only saying what any Londoner would say when I tell you that I would rather die fighting among the ruins of Piccadilly than live to see the Germans march down it in triumph.’

‘I believe you. And many Frenchmen—myself among them—would prefer to die crushed under the ruins of the Arc de Triomphe than allow the Germans to pass through it; but it is not to be.’

‘Think what such a surrender means,’ Gregory went on urgently. ‘It’s not only the moral uplift that the capture of the city will give to the whole German nation, and the disastrous effect that it will have on the mind of every Frenchman throughout the world, but if it is to be given up to save its buildings from destruction we won’t be able to bomb it afterwards. A million Germans will be able to live here in perfect security, immune from all attack, and its great railway network will give the enemy an enormous advantage for future operations. In the Paris area there are great munition-plants and innumerable factories. All these will fall unharmed into the Nazis’ hands and the loot that Hitler will collect is almost beyond imagination.’

The Colonel shrugged wearily. ‘I know, my friend, I know; but that is the decision of the High Command and the Government is leaving Paris tonight.’

‘Where for?’

‘I do not yet know. I am now waiting to hear from de Gaulle.’

‘Who is he?’

‘You have not heard of him, eh? Well, he is one of our younger Generals and a man in whom I, personally, have great faith. He is Under-Secretary for War and Reynaud’s general military adviser.’

‘Is it he who has advised the abandonment of Paris?’

‘On the contrary. He fought tooth and nail against it, but he was overruled. Today another great battle has been raging—a secret battle in which victory will go to those who succeed in influencing Reynaud to accept their policy. De Gaulle, Georges Mandel, who is the spiritual heir of Clemenceau, and their
friends wish the Government to move to Quimpier, in Brittany, and to withdraw our forces to a line from Rouen to Orleans, and thence south-east along the Loire, so that we can make a last stand with our backs to the English Channel. His opponents wish the Government to retire to Bordeaux, where they would be further removed from the influence of the English should it become necessary to accept defeat and capitulate.’

‘Capitulate?’ cried Gregory. ‘But this is ghastly!—unthinkable! What in God’s name can Weygand be thinking of to permit even the suggestion of capitulation to be mentioned in the French War Cabinet?’

Lacroix looked up sadly. ‘
Mon ami,
it is best that you should know the truth. It is Weygand who heads the party that is urging Reynaud to move to Bordeaux.’

Gregory mopped his forehead as he murmured: ‘Weygand—France’s hope; and Leopold warned me, yet I was fool enough to laugh at him. Is there nobody whom one can trust?’

‘You may trust de Gaulle; but Weygand must from now on be counted among the enemy. Almost hourly, from Sunday last—Black Sunday—he has been telephoning Reynaud to say that there is no more than he can do and urging the Government to leave Paris. Today we reach the crisis. This morning Reynaud actually signed the order for the move to Bordeaux, but de Gaulle made him countermand it and preparations are still going forward for a move to Quimpier. But it was necessary for de Gaulle to remain with Reynaud in his office all day in order to ensure that he was not got at and that he did not change his mind once more. Then, an hour ago, your friend, the Baroness arrived there.’

‘Oh hell! I thought you said she was at Fontainebleau?’

‘She was. And it is virtually certain that she will return there tonight to collect her papers and valuables before moving south out of the new battle area, of which Fontainebleau will now automatically become a part; but this afternoon she did something which she has never done before—she came openly to the Ministry and demanded to see Reynaud in his office. At first de Gaulle made him refuse to see her, but no one dared to stop her and she forced her way into his room. She insisted on seeing Reynaud alone, but de Gaulle would not leave; and, as far as I know, they are still in conference. Those are the facts; I had them from de Gaulle’s secretary, who left the room only after the Baroness had forced her way into it.’

Gregory had overestimated his strength when he left the hotel and he was now feeling desperately ill and weak again. ‘I thought,’ he said slowly, ‘that the
Baronne’s
affair with Reynaud was all over, long ago?’

‘It is, I believe, many years since they were lovers but they have always remained close friends; and unfortunately she still has great influence with him.’

‘God! That woman! How I wish I’d shot her in Rotterdam when I had the chance. If I can’t manage to do something about it soon she’ll hand us all over, bound hand and foot, to the Nazis. But can’t you telephone—find out if there’s anything fresh? To wait here like this is simply intolerable.’

Lacroix glanced at his watch. I should have been informed at once if any definite decision had been taken; but it’s over an hour since I had the last report so I’ll inquire how things are going.’ He moved over to his telephone and asked for a number.

They waited in silence for a few moments while Gregory closed his eyes and mopped the perspiration from his forehead; then Lacroix made a series of meaningless exclamations. Replacing the receiver he turned back to Gregory.

‘They have just come out. De Gaulle remained in the room all the time but they persuaded him to stand by the window so that he was practically out of earshot. Five minutes ago Reynaud suddenly snatched up his hat and stick. He pushed the Baroness out of the room and exclaimed as he followed her: “De Gaulle, it will be the South after all—and this is final.”’

Gregory roused himself and nodded. ‘That, of course, means Bordeaux; so the Baroness wins once again. But I mean to see to it that she doesn’t live to enjoy her triumph.’

‘You are determined to go down to Fontainebleau tonight, then?’

‘Yes. What’s the name of her house?’

‘It is the Pavillon de Chasse, Mirabeau, and you will find it deep in the forest, down a side-turning to the right of the main road, some three miles this side of Fontainebleau.’

The Colonel paused for a moment. Gregory felt positively deathly. There seemed to be a great weight on his chest and he could no longer see clearly, but he heard Lacroix go on:

‘Since you are set on making this attempt let us derive all the benefit possible from it. Whatever may be the outcome of the present battle, you may take it that there are many men like General de Gaulle and myself who will fight on. Among the Baroness’s papers there must be many letters and other documents which will inform us whom we can, and whom we cannot, trust. Those papers must already be packed for removal; if you can secure them you will have rendered us a service of the utmost importance.’

Gregory mopped his head again. “All right,’ he said; ‘I’ll go now—I—I.…’ As he stood up the room seemed to sway about him. He rocked unsteadily for a moment then crashed to the floor, unconscious.

24
Death in the Sunshine

As he knelt down beside the still body the little Colonel sadly shook his head. He knew that
Madame la Baronne Noire
was not destined to die by Gregory’s hand
that
night and he felt that it might be many days—vital days—before Gregory was again fit to strike a blow at the enemy. Standing up, he rang his bell, and when it was answered, gave swift instructions for Gregory’s removal in a police ambulance to his hotel.

Gregory came out of his faint before they reached the Saint Regis and by the time he was carried up to his room he had recovered sufficiently, in spite of his anger with himself at his own weakness, to be faintly amused at the reception accorded him by his pretty nurse.


Méchant, méchant!
’ she upbraided him, wagging a slim finger in his face before proceeding to help him back to bed. ‘What children men are! They think there is no limit to their strength, and that however ill they are the world will cease to turn if for one moment they must give up the new games with which they amuse themselves when they are too old any longer to play with their lead soldiers and their model aeroplanes, if women ruled the world your nasty dangerous toys would be taken from you for good and all, then there would be some peace and happiness for a change.’

For a moment Gregory wondered if there was not a great fundamental truth in what she said. Women ask very little of life except a mate and security in which to bring up their offspring. It is men who are the dreamers for good or ill, and for every outstanding male who lifts the human race by some great
scientific or artistic achievement there is always an Attila, a Napoleon or a Hitler whose visions lead him to inflict untold misery upon his fellow-men. Perhaps, he thought, it would be better if, like the ants or bees, the human race were content to live under a matriarchy, where there was no progress, no ambition, but work and food for all; yet somehow he could not believe that, because if one rejected all hope of advancement as the price of permanent peace it meant the death of the spirit, by the possession of which alone man differs from the insects and the animals.

He slept well and woke the following morning still weak but better and with the knowledge that work lay before him which must be done.

Even with dissension rife among France’s War Cabinet and a defeatist spirit in the very person of her Commander-in-Chief, that spirit had not yet spread to her junior Generals, her regimental officers or her soldiers, who were still fighting gamely; so France might yet be saved.

Reynaud had given in to the Baroness on the previous afternoon, but only after many days of constant pressure from her associates. It was quite on the cards that he might change his mind once again when the Government was removed from the atmosphere of Paris, which was now flooded with the defeatism brought by a million refugees from France’s northern provinces. It needed only a slight weakening of the German effort—which by all reasoning was already overdue—a small counter-offensive launched with success in some sector by a Corps Commander, or even a Divisional General, to make the fighting spirit of de Gaulle once again paramount in the counsels of the wavering Premier; but as long as the Black Baroness lived she was a constant menace to any such last-moment recovery. She had to die, and it was Gregory’s business to bring about her death.

After he had breakfasted he told Sister Madeleine quietly but firmly that his good night’s rest had really given him the strength to carry on, this time, and that he meant to get up; but he was not destined to do so. With a superior air she lifted the receiver of his bedside telephone and asked for the
agent de ville
to be sent up.

‘Come, come,’ Gregory laughed. ‘The law doesn’t give you power to keep a sick man in bed against his will, so it’s no good sending for the police.’

‘They’re here already,’ she smiled, ‘and what powers they have you will soon learn for yourself.’

Other books

Countdown by Unknown Author
Stuck On You by Christine Wenger
The Bad Ones by Stylo Fantome
Rodmoor by John Cowper Powys
Immortality by Kevin Bohacz
Fated by Sarah Alderson
Mazurka by Campbell Armstrong
One Last Summer (2007) by Collier, Catrin