Flykiller

‘Travail, Famille, et Patrie, Inspectors. While one-third of our farmers languish in POW camps in the Reich, our remaining peasants sell nearly half of their butter, eggs and pork to the BOFs, the butter, eggs and cheese racketeers. One-quarter of all potatoes not sent to the Reich also go to them, and one-half of all chicken. And yet … and yet, our Head of State and the Government he has created wish us to venerate the noble peasant while making those same peasants far richer and more arrogant than they’ve ever been?’

He waved a dismissive hand. ‘Seventy-five per cent of all oats grown in the country go to the Reich, eighty per cent of all pressed oils and now … now they’re no longer counting the cattle that arrive in Paris for transhipment to the Reich, only the rail trucks when full. I shouldn’t be surprised if Parisians aren’t wondering, as they did in the Franco-Prussian War, if they will not soon be reduced to eating rats!’

‘Auguste, I’m going to my room.’

‘Go if you wish, Edith. These two will listen. That one, though he’s no collabo, has his name on L’Humanite’s list, and that one … Well, if you’ll forgive me, Inspector Kohler, I have to ask, did your rebelliousness not once consign you to a Himmelfahrtskommando?’

To being one of the trip-to-heaven boys, one of a bomb-disposal unit!

‘Though I can no longer stop averting my gaze, still I’ve seen it in your eyes, Herr Kohler. Not just fear of what’s going on here in France but of what’s to come for those you love. Now toss out the jewellery and I will tell you what I can.

‘Edith,’ he said. ‘Edith, the bilberry tisane for our guests. They say it’s good for the sight, Inspectors. One has to try everything these days, so one steps carefully at night when one leaves a lighted room or else one falls on one’s ass. Ten minutes it takes me now just to adjust the eyes. Ten minutes!’

Night blindness was a terrible problem, especially in the bigger cities. During the day vision would be normal, but at dusk it would become hard to gauge distances and define objects. One would step outside into the blackout as if totally blind, and would have to wait patiently for the eyes to adjust. A lack of vitamin A and fats in the diet, the doctors said; others, the blackout itself.

Bilberries did contain vitamin A.

‘But there is only this Quatsch to sweeten them, eh, Herr Kohler, this crap?’

A bowl of saccharin was thrust their way.

‘I’m a recluse, a stroller, and yes, I’m as well informed as I possibly can be, nor do I attempt to hide this or anything else from you. Small towns, and this is still very much one, are especially hard on those of their own, Inspectors. Between 1929 and ’37 over seven hundred of our banks failed, mine too in ’33, but even though I could not in any way have been responsible, since I was no longer there, still I’m castigated for its failure. The anonymous letters dribble in and occasionally in the dark of night a stone is thrown through a window. Of course, the pane is impossible to replace and the hole must be boarded up. I knew you’d have to come to see me. I’ve had time to think about things. Four murdered women, the most recent of whom was wearing some of my dead wife’s jewellery. Since I’ve always been a target, I can only surmise that Premier Laval’s Flykiller wishes you to arrest me. Please don’t forget it was Laval who coined the name, just as it was Petain who willingly coined the word collaboration and fed it to the Nation.’

But how had Olivier known of Laval’s use of that name, wondered Kohler, and why was he being so incautious?

Louis seldom removed his overcoat or fedora during such interviews, preferring always to leave doubt in the mind as to when he’d depart, but this time he set the hat on the table with a finality that brooked no interference, and pulled off his overcoat.

As the jewellery was laid on the table, moisture quickly collected in Olivier’s eyes. A quiver passed through him as he reached out to touch the trinkets.

‘Edith, please take Herr Kohler to her room. Show him where these were always kept. Not in my safe-deposit box, Inspectors. Not registered or listed – I’ve yet to be forced into that humiliation, so you’ll just have to believe me when I tell you they must have been stolen.’

‘By whom?’ asked Louis.

‘Outside of the killer or killers, I’ve no idea. No one visits except for the postman. There are only the two of us, and when I’m out, Edith is invariably in.’

And suspect? wondered St-Cyr. Mon Dieu, this one was clever. Having decided the best course of action, and weighed up the risks, which were considerable, Olivier hadn’t wavered from that course.

Hermann departed with the housekeeper, leaving the two of them to themselves.