Jackdaws

He had asked her about her new recruit, codenamed Charenton. "He's my cousin," Stephanie had said gruffly. "I've known him since we were children, I would trust him with my life." Michel had told her she had no right to recruit people without at least discussing it with him, but he had appeared to believe her story, and Dieter had kissed Stephanie and told her she was a good enough actor to join the Com‚die Fran‡aise.

All the same, Helicopter would know that the Gestapo would be listening and trying to find him. That was a risk he had to run: if he sent no messages home he was of no use. He would stay on air only for the minimum length of time. If he had a lot of information to send, he would break it into two or more messages and send them from different locations. Dieter's only hope was that he would be tempted to stay on the air just a little too long.

The minutes ticked by. There was silence in the car. The men smoked nervously. Then, at five past eight, the receiver beeped.

By prearrangement, the driver set off immediately, driving south.

The signal grew stronger, but slowly, making Dieter worry that they were not heading directly for the source.

Sure enough, as they passed the cathedral in the center of town, the needle fell back.

In the passenger seat, a Gestapo man talked into a short-wave radio. He was consulting with someone in a radio-detection truck a mile away. After a moment he said, "Northwest quarter." followed. He went a hundred meters, then suddenly turned back. He stopped and pointed to a house. "That one," he said. "But the transmission has ended."

Dieter noticed that there were no curtains in the windows. The Resistance liked to use derelict houses for their transmissions.

The Gestapo man carrying the sledgehammer broke the door down with two blows. They all rushed in.

The floors were bare and the place had a musty smell. Dieter threw open a door and looked into an empty room.

Dieter opened the door of the back room. He crossed the vacant room in three strides and looked into an abandoned kitchen.

He ran up the stairs. On the next floor was a window overlooking a long back garden. Dieter glanced out-and saw Helicopter and Michel running across the grass. Michel was limping, Helicopter was carrying his little suitcase. Dieter swore. They must have escaped through a back door as the Gestapo were breaking down the front. Dieter turned and yelled, "Back garden!" The Gestapo men ran and he followed.

As he reached the garden, he saw Michel and Helicopter scrambling over the back fence into the grounds of another house. He joined in the chase, but the fugitives had a long lead. With the three Gestapo men, he climbed the fence and ran through the second garden.

They reached the next street just in time to see a black Renault Monaquatre disappearing around the corner.

"Hell," Dieter said. For the second time in a day, Helicopter had slipped through his grasp.

CHAPTER 25

WHEN THEY COT back to the house, Flick made cocoa for the team. It was not regular practice for officers to make cocoa for their troops, but in Flick's opinion that only showed how little the army knew about leadership.

Paul stood in the kitchen watching her as she waited for the kettle to boil. She felt his eyes on her like a caress. She knew what he was going to say, and she had prepared her reply. It would have been easy to fall in love with Paul, but she was not going to betray the husband who was risking his life fighting the Nazis in occupied France.

However, his question surprised her. "What will you do after the war?"

"I'm looking forward to being bored," she said.

He laughed. "You've had enough excitement."

"Too much." She thought for a moment. "I still want to be a teacher. I'd like to share my love of French culture with young people. Educate them about French literature and painting, and also about less highbrow things like cooking and fashion."

"So you'll become a don?"

"Finish my doctorate, get a job at a university, be condescended to by narrow-minded old male professors. Maybe write a guide book to France, or even a cookbook."

"Sounds tame, after this."

"It's important, though. The more young people know about foreigners, the less likely they are to be as stupid as we were, and go to war with their neighbors."

"I wonder if that's right."

"What about you? What's your plan for after the war?"

"Oh, mine is real simple. I want to marry you and take you to Paris for a honeymoon. Then we'll settle down and have children."

She stared at him. "Were you thinking of asking my consent?" she said indignantly.

He was quite solemn. "I haven't thought of anything else for days."

"I already have a husband."

"But you don't love him."

"You have no right to say that!"

"I know, but I can't help it."

"Why did I used to think you were a smooth talker?"

"Usually I am. That kettle's boiling."