Voices on the Wind (35 page)

Kate said flatly, ‘No, but I shall soon. And that will answer the last question and the worst. The one I tried not to think about for all these years. Why did London send the code message for the Allied Invasion of Europe, knowing it was nearly three weeks premature? They finished Derain's work, and all those Frenchmen died. Are you telling me that those German records, whatever they were, were the reason for that?'

‘Yes.' Michaelson answered without hesitation. ‘None of this would have been necessary if Jean Dulac hadn't relied on his own vanity and love of glory beyond the broad strategy of winning the war. He is responsible for the tragedy, Kate. That statue in the Place de la Libération is a mockery.' She opened her bag, lit a cigarette. He saw that the lighter flame wavered. ‘I'm sorry to say this,' he said. ‘I know you loved him.'

She drew on the cigarette, deeper than she should, and the smoke caught her and brought tears to her eyes. Or so she pretended. ‘I heard rumours about you,' she said at last. ‘When we were training. You fell in love with one of the girls you sent to France; the Gestapo caught her. Was it true?'

‘Her name was Lisette,' he said. ‘She operated in Paris. Our friend Eilenburg was her interrogator. Are you going to give evidence in his defence?'

She didn't answer. He said, ‘Have you given his lawyer a deposition?'

‘Not yet. Do I need to, to be safe?'

‘I've told you, no. Will you go back to England and forget about this?'

‘I'm going to have another brandy. Do join me, Captain Michaelson.'

‘My name is Robert; thanks, I will. Take my advice and go home. Leave the past buried.'

She smiled at him and said softly, ‘What about the dead? They won't stay quiet; there're too many of them. I found out about another only today. You said Philippe worked for London; he must have been very loyal to keep quiet when he was arrested and tried in a French court. Why did they have to murder him by fixing the brakes on his car? Now he's on my conscience too. Here's our brandy. Thank you, Pierre.' She gave the barman a brilliant smile. He winked to himself as he left the table. Very attractive woman; and another man eating out of her hand. Michaelson had turned red. She watched the embarrassment and wondered if it was shame. ‘What was in that safe?'

‘A list of the July conspirators. The German General was one of the organizers of the bomb plot to kill Hitler. He had a photocopy of the names and he was using it to recruit from the Staff officers at the hotel. If that plot had succeeded, the war would have been over a year earlier. We wanted that list. When Dulac ruined everything we had to make sure the Gestapo didn't find it.'

‘The plot failed,' Kate said slowly. ‘Hitler wasn't killed. So that was all for nothing too. They sacrificed all those people to save the General so he could murder Hitler. And it failed. Was he hung with piano wire like the others?'

‘He shot himself,' Michaelson answered. Kate lifted her brandy.

‘He was luckier than some. Do you know who's paying for Eilenburg's defence?'

‘Not precisely. It's been kept very secret, but we believe it's a consortium of neo-Nazis.'

To his amazement she laughed out loud. ‘Of course you would think that, wouldn't you? So did I at one time. A secret conspiracy working to undermine the unity of the Western Allies. It's a woman, can you believe it? A very rich woman, who was Eilenburg's mistress during the war. She wants to get him off because for forty years she's been in love with him. He was the only man who was kind to her, she said. She's the widow of a millionaire socialist, and the Fascist Right want to expose her connection with Eilenburg in court because it'll embarrass the government.' She laughed again, but it was bitter laughter. ‘Nobody's interested in justice or telling the truth, are they? If I go home, as you suggest, there'll be a trial, and a scandal, and Eilenburg will be sentenced to life imprisonment. But nobody will know the truth. The heroes will stay heroes and the villains will be villains.'

Michaelson looked down at his hands again. The habit irritated her.

‘It would be best,' he said.

‘Tell me something,' Kate asked him. ‘Why did you come to live in France? Why did you become French?'

‘Because I felt close to Lisette. I was pushed out to America after training you. I'd gone soft, and it was noticed. I couldn't settle anywhere. So after the war I came here and made it my home. And I've been happy. It's my country now and I love it. That's another reason why I don't want to see the past raked up. There's no death penalty. Just prison, and he'll get that anyway. I've practically guaranteed to take you back to England.'

‘I thought you had.' Kate shrugged. So much for all the talk about safety. Do what you're told or else. ‘What happens if I won't go?'

He frowned impatiently. ‘Nothing. I told you. Be reasonable for heaven's sake.'

‘No car accident for me?' she asked softly. ‘Did you know Derain was murdered?'

‘Yes, we knew. And we knew who was responsible, but what was the point of trying to prove it.… You always assume the worst about your own side, don't you – well you're wrong. French interests here in the Midi got rid of him. They believed he might be tempted to write about the past, and too many people had something to hide. He was a good man, Kate, and he knew the risks. Very few career spies like him die in their beds. Incidentally, how do you think his widow lives so comfortably? There's not much money to be made in a bookshop. She's been handsomely looked after, though she doesn't know it.'

‘Blood-money,' Kate said slowly. ‘All those people who were sacrificed. It's easy for you to rationalize; you can accept the logic of sacrifice, the end justifies the means. I had to see it first hand. Why did they send Julie out? You knew she was a risk; the first time anyone roughed her up she was going to break. She should never have got through. You didn't pass her, did you?'

‘No, I recommended she be sent back to the FANYs and told to forget SOE. I'm afraid she was the necessary weak link in the chain.'

‘Oh God,' Kate whispered. ‘Of course. The fail-safe if anything happened to Derain. Get her arrested and that was the end of the network.'

He said quietly, ‘Kate, pause a minute. Julie is one of SOE's heroines. Any evidence you give will take that away from her. Jean Dulac is a hero, so are the Maquis leaders. People are proud of what they did and they believe they suffered and died for a great cause. I believe that too. I had to live with what happened to the girl I loved and she died just like they did. It's taken me a very long time to come to terms but I have, and I've gone on working for the things she died for, if you like. Nobody can stop you pursuing a private vendetta against Jim Reed and Dick Wroxham. You can throw mud at them and give Eilenburg's defence some powerful ammunition. He'll end up as quite a patriot, by the time they've finished. If that's what you want, then go ahead. Think it over. I'll phone you tomorrow morning.'

He got up and she faced him. ‘The best possible solution would be no trial at all,' he said. ‘Good night, Kate.'

She watched him walk out; he carried himself well.

‘Can I get you anything, Madame?' Pierre came over, smiling.

‘No thank you,' Kate answered. ‘It's such a beautiful night I think I'll go for a walk in the grounds.'

The sea was like black silk, the white swathe of the moonlight made a pathway to oblivion that shimmered to a far horizon. The sound of a slight swell splashing against the walls below was soothing. The gardens behind were lit, and fairylike. The ocean held no menace; she thought, this is the peace that is eternity. No Christian heaven or hell, the conflict continuing into the after-life. Just a gentle sound that never ends and nothing to remember. Are you quiet now, my lover and my friends; are you still and serene, and I've agonized in vain for all these years. Is he right? What will you gain from my peace of mind? You won in the end because Eilenburg lost. And everything he stands for was defeated. That's what you risked your lives for; and so did I. Funny how I've forgotten that.… She turned away, leaving the dark sea at her back, and the lights in the trees leading to the hotel were warm and beckoning. She began to walk towards them.

‘I'm so glad you decided to come back,' Antoinette Vigier declared. ‘We were so worried when you disappeared like that! Weren't we, Paul?'

He said, looking hard at Kate, ‘Yes. I imagined you'd thought better of it and gone back to England.'

‘I did think about it,' Kate admitted. ‘I wondered what my daughter would say, and my friends at home, when it all came out. Then I felt I couldn't run away from my responsibility. So I came back.'

She looked at both of them and smiled. ‘We'll have champagne to celebrate,' Antoinette decided. ‘Ring the bell, please, Paul. You'll join me, this time?' she asked Kate. She was exquisitely made up, but there were dark shadows under her eyes and her manner was too bright.

‘Thank you, that would be lovely,' Kate answered. There was a pause while the champagne was brought in; Antoinette Vigier lit a cigarette, smoking it rapidly.

‘What beautiful flowers,' Kate remarked, breaking the silence.

‘How kind,' she answered. ‘I arrange them myself I remember when Christian brought me here, the garden was so overgrown, but I found some flowers and tried to make a pretty vase for our room. I'd never done such a thing before, you know. I always threw the dead flowers away when I worked at the hotel. I remember so well thinking how lovely it was to cut them and choose the colours and put them in a vase. So I made a hobby of it. Christian loved flowers. He said a house wasn't a home without them! She turned her attention suddenly to Paul Roulier. ‘When can I see him? How much longer have I got to hide away?'

‘Not too long,' he said. ‘But you've got to be patient, Madame. First, we arrange a second meeting with Madame Alfurd. Then we have her deposition filed, and after that, you can come out into the open. It won't be too long.'

‘It seems unbearably long to me,' she said. ‘I try to imagine how he looks – those newspaper photographs were so awful. But they were taken so he'd look old and sinister on purpose. He was so handsome, Madame Alfurd. You wouldn't believe how beautiful he was! Of course, you met him, didn't you? How stupid of me, I forgot.' She gave a trilling laugh, as if she were talking about a social encounter at a party long ago.

‘Yes I did,' Kate said quietly. ‘But I'm afraid I didn't take much notice of his looks.'

The eyes darkened, and there was no smile any more. ‘He didn't hurt you, did he? He was perfectly polite and let you go. Here's the champagne. My favourite drink. Whether it's to celebrate or to mourn. When my two husbands died, I drank it after their funerals. I'll drink to my real husband now. To Christian. And to justice!' She drained the glass and set it down. Kate left hers untouched.

She said, ‘Madame Vigier, I want to make my position quite clear. I'm going to give evidence at the trial, but not because I want to help your husband. It'll save us both embarrassment if you stop talking about your private life. If you'll excuse me, I think I should go back to the hotel. Paul, would you be kind enough to give me a lift?' At the door she said, ‘Good night, Madame Vigier.' Antoinette Vigier lifted her head and looked at her; then she turned away without answering. The door closed and she was alone. The glass of champagne was still on the table where the Englishwoman had left it. She got up, crossed over and picked up the glass. She used a foul epithet, dredged up from her gutter past, and then said softly, ‘But she'll do what we want, my darling, so I'll drink it for her. To you, my love.'

‘If you've finally made up your mind,' Roulier said as they drove, ‘then I won't try and argue any more. Are you certain you can believe him?'

‘Quite certain,' Kate said. ‘I told you, he was my conducting officer, Robert Michaelson. There's nothing they can do to stop me. And don't argue, Paul, because I'm not going to change my mind. I shan't go back to the villa, there's no point; she and I will only fall out if I do. She's crazy, isn't she?'

‘Only on this one subject,' he answered. ‘On business, she's very sane indeed. That's why both husbands left her everything. They knew she'd manage her own affairs better than anyone. She's even richer since the last one died.'

‘It hasn't made her very happy,' Kate said. The car drew up at the entrance. He turned to her, and said, ‘I meant what I said the other night. When it's over, will you think about me?'

‘No, Paul,' Kate answered. ‘There's no future for a woman of my age with a man of yours. When it's over, I've got to make my own life. Look for someone younger, my dear. You'll find her. Good night.'

It was a short walk from his cell to the interview room. Eilenburg didn't try to hurry. ‘Conserve your strength,' he told himself every day. ‘Calm your mind and relax your body. Sleep as well and eat as well as you can. Your day is coming and you must be ready.' She had written to him, and the letter had been palmed to him, rolled into a tiny cylinder, the last time his lawyer came to visit. He read it over and over again. Forty years, and he could visualize her as if she were beside him. Slight and no higher than his shoulder, with those liquid brown eyes that gazed at him. A passionate child who never questioned but only gave, and gave again. As she was giving now, when life had parted them for so many years. She was rich and able to take care of him as he had taken care of her. She had never stopped loving him, and one day soon they would be together. She signed herself ‘Toinette'. When he read it he cried. Flanked by a prison officer he shuffled along to the interview room. They were sitting there waiting. The lawyer and the woman. Cecilie. He smiled. How angry he had been when he was forced to release her. How fortunate, as it turned out, because what she would say in open court would make all the difference to his sentence. More than that, it would vindicate his life. By charging him with war crimes, the old enemy would condemn itself. He came forward and they stood up. The warder was beside him, stony-faced and sharp-eyed. The lawyer came towards him, held out his hand. This time there was no note. The woman Cecilie didn't move; last time she had ignored him, turned her back rather than touch him. Her hatred was there still, as strong as the day she defied him in his office at the Villa Trianon.