Flykiller

‘The Hall des Sources,’ grated Bousquet with an exasperated sigh. ‘Early yesterday morning.’

‘Naked?’ demanded Hermann, not waiting for the other answers.

‘Clothed in a nightgown I had bought her, Inspector,’ confessed de Fleury. ‘White silk with a delicate decolletage of Auvergne lace.’

‘It’s winter,’ grumbled Louis. ‘You’ve not mentioned an overcoat, a. warm dress, boots, or a scarf and gloves. Therefore she was either taken to this place as found, or went there freely and then put the nightgown on, after first undressing.’

‘Inspectors … Inspectors, mon Dieu, that is why we wished to speak to you in private,’ sighed Bousquet. ‘The Hall des Sources is all but adjacent to the Hotel du Parc. Footprints in the snow – a set clearly from her boots – suggest that Celine Dupuis was taken from the Hatel du Parc by at least one other person. Jean-Louis, you’ve had experience at this sort of thing. In 1938, as an associate of the IKPK, you worked closely with Gestapo Boemelburg on the visit to France of King George VI and his Queen.’

‘The Blum Government were worried about an assassination, yes,’ conceded St-Cyr. ‘The Internationalen Kriminalpolizeilichen Kommission’s* Vienna office were all aflutter and no doubt the Gestapo used the visit to gain further insight into the workings of our Surete. But … but, Secretaire, are you suggesting there is a plot to assassinate the Marechal?’

Who has a bedroom and adjoining office in the Hotel du Parc and loves the ladies! snorted Kohler inwardly. ‘And if so, please tell us why the mistress of this one was in her nightgown and knocking on that one’s door?’

‘And, please, where were the guards that normally patrol those corridors?’

These two … Why the hell had the Premier had to ask for them, why not others who would be tractable? demanded Bousquet silently. He would ignore St-Cyr’s question and tell them as little as possible. Yes, that would be best! ‘We French are no innocents when it comes to assassinations, are we? Admiral Darlan, only last Christmas Eve in Algiers. Marx Dormoy, the Popular Front’s ex-minister, on 26 July 1941, and exactly one month later, an attempt was made on Monsieur Laval himself.’

‘On 27 August,’ muttered Louis. ‘If I understand the matter correctly, Secretaire, though out of office but still fulfilling some state functions, Monsieur Laval had felt there might be trouble and hadn’t really wanted to present the flag to the first contingent of the Legion des Volontaires Francais contre le Bolchevisme.’

French volunteers who willingly joined the Wehrmacht on the Russian Front! ‘Both he and Marcel Deat were wounded,’ said Kohler, picking up the thread. ‘Laval so seriously that a weaker man would have died.’

‘The bullet in the shoulder was removed without complications,’ confided Bousquet, ‘but the other one had lodged so closely to the heart that the chief surgeon felt it necessary to leave it and only repair what damage he could.’ This information was not well known.

‘A 6.35 millimetre and lodged an equal distance,’ said St-Cyr. ‘Pneumonia set in, and for days Monsieur Laval’s temperature hovered at around 40 degrees Celsius (104 degrees Fahrenheit).’

These two had done their homework, so good, yes, good! thought Bousquet. ‘Our Premier and Marcel Deat revealed considerable understanding of the nation’s psyche when they begged the Marechal to show clemency and keep the boy’s head from the breadbasket.’

The guillotine … ‘Paul Collette, age twenty-one and a former seaman from Caen who would otherwise have made a beautiful martyr,’ said Kohler flatly. ‘And now you’re telling us there’s a plot to assassinate the Marechal Petain.’

Out of the darkness of his little corner, the nameless one tonelessly said, ‘Our Government does not want this to happen, Kohler, and you are to see that it doesn’t.’

Scheisse! ‘Or else?’

‘Just make certain you understand that we are all treading on broken glass these days,’ grunted Bousquet. ‘The hills of the Auvergne may well be a haven to terrorists.’

‘But … but if what little you’ve told us so far is true, Secretaire, these terrorists, on being interrupted during an attempt on the Marechal’s life, took the girl from outside his door to silence her for fear of their being identified.’

‘That is correct – at least, it is what I suspect must have happened, and that is why Monsieur Laval has asked for you both.’

‘“Flykiller slays mistress of high-ranking Government employee,”’ quoted Kohler, remembering the telex Laval had sent to Gestapo Boemelburg in Paris. ‘Why “flies”?’

‘An assassin!’ swore Bousquet angrily. ‘Can you not listen?’

‘But … but a conclusion, Secretaire, for which you have as yet offered no proof,’ countered Louis, deliberately baiting him.