Jackdaws

They had a long wait. Dieter fought to control his impatience as the minutes and hours ticked away uselessly. The loss of Stephanie weighed on his heart, but he had recovered from the immediate shock, and he had regained his interest in the war. He thought of the Allied forces massing somewhere in the south or east of England, shiploads of men and tanks eager to turn the quiet seaside towns of northern France into battlefields. He thought of the French saboteurs-armed to the teeth thanks to parachute drops of guns, ammunition, and explosives-ready to attack the German defenders from behind, to stab them in the back and fatally cramp Rommel’s ability to maneuver. He felt foolish and impotent, standing in a doorway in Reims, waiting for an amateur terrorist to finish his breakfast. Today, perhaps, he would be led into the very heart of the Resistance-but all he had was hope.

It was after nine o’clock when the front door opened.

“At last,” Dieter breathed. He moved back from the sidewalk, making himself inconspicuous. Hans put out his cigarette.

Michel came out of the building accompanied by a boy of about seventeen, who, Dieter guessed, might be a son of Moulier. The lad keyed a padlock and opened the gates of the yard. In the yard was a clean black van with white lettering on the side that read Moulier Fils-Viandes. Michel got in.

Dieter was electrified. Michel was borrowing a meat delivery van. It had to be for the Jackdaws. “Let’s go!” he said.

Hans hurried to his motorcycle, which was parked at the curb, and stood with his back to the road, pretending to fiddle with the engine. Dieter ran to the corner, signaled the Gestapo driver to start the car, then watched Michel.

Michel drove out of the yard and headed away.

Hans started his motorcycle and followed. Dieter jumped into the car and ordered the driver to follow Hans.

They headed east. Dieter, in the front passenger seat of the Gestapo’s black Citroën, looked ahead anxiously. Moulier’s van was easy to follow, having a high roof with a vent on top like a chimney. That little vent will lead me to flick, Dieter thought optimistically.

The van slowed in the chemin de La Carrière and pulled into the yard of a champagne house called Laperrière. Hans drove past and turned the next corner, and Dieter’s driver followed. They pulled up and Dieter leaped out.

“I think the Jackdaws hid out there overnight,” Dieter said.

“Shall we raid the place?” Hans said eagerly.

Dieter pondered. This was the dilemma he had faced yesterday, outside the café. Flick might be in there. But if he moved too quickly, he might prematurely end Michel’s usefulness as a stalking horse.

“Not yet,” he said. Michel was the only hope he had left. It was too soon to risk losing that weapon. “We’ll wait.”

Dieter and Hans walked to the end of the street and watched the Laperrière place from the corner. There were a tall, elegant house, a courtyard full of empty barrels, and a low industrial building with a flat roof Dieter guessed the cellars ran beneath the flat-roofed building. Moulier’s van was parked in the yard.

Dieter’s pulse was racing. Any moment now, Michel would reappear with Flick and the other Jackdaws, he guessed. They would get into the van, ready to drive to their target-and Dieter and the Gestapo would move in and arrest them.

As they watched, Michel came out of the low building. He wore a frown and he stood indecisively in the yard, looking around him in a perplexed fashion. Hans said, “What’s the matter with him?”

Dieter’s heart sank. “Something he didn’t expect.” Surely Flick had not evaded him again?

After a minute, Michel climbed the short flight of steps to the door of the house and knocked. A maid in a little white cap let him in.

He came out again a few minutes later. He still looked puzzled, but he was no longer indecisive. He walked to the van, got in, and turned it around.

Dieter cursed. It seemed the Jackdaws were not here. Michel appeared just as surprised as Dieter was, but that was small consolation.

Dieter had to find out what had happened here. He said to Hans, “We’ll do the same as last night, only this time you follow Michel and I’ll raid the place.”

Hans started his motorcycle.

Dieter watched Michel drive away in Moulier’s van, followed at a discreet distance by Hans Hesse on his motorcycle. When they were out of sight, he summoned the three Gestapo men with a wave and walked quickly to the Laperrière house.

He pointed at two of the men. “Check the house. Make sure no one leaves.” Nodding at the third man, he said, “You and I will search the winery.” He led the way into the low building.