All the King's Men (17 page)

Déricourt and Suttill had actually met in March. They developed the habit of occasionally lunching at the restaurant Chez Tutulle, near the Place des Ternes. Then in early April, Suttill felt it was worth introducing GILBERT to a wider circle of the group. He collected Déricourt and JuJu in his car and drove them south-west towards Versailles. At the famous agricultureal research establishment, the École Nationale d’Agriculture in the town of Grignon,
Suttill had perhaps the largest and most picturesque of safe-houses; the home of the principal, Professor Maurice Vanderwynckt. He, his family and some of the staff secretly worked for Suttill. The college became a kind of out-of-town headquarters and was extensively used for meetings and planning sessions. Suttill gathered round him an eclectic group of solid practical foot-soldiers and intellectuals. He could, on the one hand, convince a young farmer that he should allow them to use one of his fields for parachute drops, then, on the other, conduct a philosophical examination of the nature of fear with the young students from Paris. At Grignon he gathered quite a colony of farmers and philosophers.

It wasn’t quite what Déricourt expected to find in the headquarters of a great secret army. Instead of a martial atmosphere, there was a distinct ‘on campus’ feel about the place. Suttill enjoyed nothing better than a stroll with two or three friends amongst the groves of fruit trees that embraced the college buildings. Jean Cocteau often came there, as did Octave Simon the sculptor (organizer of the SATIRIST group) and the Irish writer Samuel Beckett who was a member of a small Paris-based group of intellectuals organized by Armel Guerne. Colleagues of Vanderwynckt, the distinguished biologist Professor Balachowsky and his wife, also organized a small sub-circuit in the Versailles area from the town of Viroflay.

Déricourt found Suttill’s coterie of intellectuals, artists and academics a little hard to swallow. He never doubted the man’s greatness and was certainly attracted to him, as most people were, but he also felt that he looked completely wrong for the part. ‘Prosper was magnificent, strong, young, courageous and decisive, a kind of Ivanhoe; but he should have been a cavalry officer, not a spy.’
⁶
But if Déricourt saw him as a cavalry officer, Suttill was also a man whose courage matched his ambitions. He was not
just
an intellectual, he was also a trained killer and a born
leader of killers. A killer with the diplomatic skills to win the trust and support of the Communists, which automatically increased the price on his head.

Between March and April Déricourt got to know those at the core of Suttill’s organization, namely Gilbert Norman, Suttill’s deputy; Andrée Borrel; Agazarian, the radio operator; and Jean Worms, the man with whom he had flown into France. Borrel was one who did not take to Henri, possibly because his masculine charms were of little consequence to someone who was otherwise persuaded, but more likely because, like Vera Atkins, she knew insincerity when she saw it. Borrel aside, everyone else trusted him and came to depend on his Lysander operations. In fact the meeting at Grignon was called in order to discuss the increase in Lysander traffic that was anticipated during the next few weeks. In London there was a growing queue of agents waiting to get back into France and prepare for the invasion.

Soon after the visit to Grignon, Déricourt and Clément met to scour some maps of the Loiret for suitable fields. As they chatted into the night Déricourt paused – then suddenly declared that the job had become too much for him. He needed help. Henri was deadly serious. He looked tired and drawn, the weight of some hidden responsibility had begun to drag him down.

What Clément didn’t know was that Déricourt had begun to worry about the consequences of his secret arrangement with the Germans. Once he’d actually met PROSPER and the others, people he found it impossible not to admire, there was no mistaking a change in his attitude. Slowly it had dawned on him that his operation for Dansey was not only dangerous but also exceedingly sinister. But he couldn’t get out of it. Nor could he explain anything to Clément. He simply had to convince Rémy that he had to have assistance with the actual operations. Rémy asked him to describe in minute detail precisely how the March operation had proceeded, which Déricourt did
with obvious relish. Clément, typically cautious, thought about it for a day, and then agreed.
⁷

Déricourt was grateful, for Boemelburg was about to increase the stakes. During March and April there had been a five-fold increase in the radio traffic between the Paris-based networks and London, mostly concerned with arrangements for arms drops or Lysander operations. From the Boulevard Suchet, the SD had monitored this increase and reported it to Kopkow in Berlin. The Fuhrer himself had taken an interest in PROSPER, ever since reports from Boemelburg claimed he would play a vital part in the Allies’ invasion plans.
⁸
These latest reports provoked a new set of priorities from Kopkow. Henceforth all attention must be focused on PROSPER and discovering the date of the projected invasion.

Boemelburg had asked Josef Kieffer to secure a couple of apartments for his meetings with GILBERT. Kieffer was not impressed with this development, and sceptical about GILBERT. He had a polite but not warm relationship with his chief, who was twenty years his senior and about three ranks above him. Born in the German border state of Saarland in 1907, Kieffer had been a civil policeman in that district during the time it was administered by the French after the Great War. He had learnt his trade amongst professionals whereas Boemelburg was a product of the Party. Having joined the SS and been transferred into the SD, Kieffer was sent to Paris because the SS assumed from his record that he would have some knowledge of the French. In fact, like most Saarlanders, Kieffer didn’t speak a word of French.
⁹
For someone who was a relative newcommer to the SS he was considerably less tolerant than Boemelburg, less appreciative of the well-played ‘double agent’. He considered intellectuals highly suspect and believed that Boemelburg could be too easily led. In one aspect, however, Kieffer and Boemelburg were very similar. They were both extremely ambitious. Despite their differences, Kieffer rarely quarrelled with his chief,
and despite his scepticism about GILBERT he was prepared to wait and see.
¹⁰

Déricourt was summoned to his next meeting with Boemelburg. Instead of being picked up by car, he was told to rendezvous at an apartment – a worrying precedent. Boemelburg sent him a pair of keys, one for a flat in the Boulevard Malesherbes, up near the Metro St Augustin, the other closer to the Champs Elysées, near Madeleine. Both apartments had been confiscated from Jewish families. The meeting took place at the flat near the Champs Elysées. There was a long corridor leading from the front door, at the end of which was a small table and chair. On the table sat a telephone and some writing paper. To the right, a single door led into the living room which had been stripped of everything of value. Leading from the living room there was a bathroom, kitchen and bedroom. As a precaution, Kieffer had microphones placed in the lamps and the telephone, but they were rarely used.
¹¹

This meeting marked the start of a steady increase in the quantity and quality of information Déricourt delivered. Mere information about who had come and gone was not enough. In future Boemelburg wanted the date and place of each operation
beforehand
, so that he could arrange to have the new agents followed.

It was at this stage that they worked out a finely balanced arrangement that promised to keep the game going indefinitely. Boemelburg wanted to be able to trace everyone London was sending into France. Déricourt needed to preserve his integrity. In return for receiving notice of all the Lysander operations in advance, Boemelburg guaranteed there would be no arrests. It looked like the ideal arrangement. Boemelburg needed to get a complete picture of the PROSPER network and, if possible, to discover the date of the expected invasion. From experience they knew that any premature arrests would only result in the creation of a new series of networks out of the remains of the old. This time he wanted total victory.

Déricourt’s terms were clear. No one, absolutely no one, should come anywhere near the landing field. Once he had relinquished responsibility for the incoming agents, Boemelburg’s men could then begin their surveillance. Most importantly, under no circumstances must there ever be an arrest. The British must never be given any reason to question his integrity. There was very little argument
¹²
– the old Nazi appreciated the advantages of the arrangement, for the more the British came to trust and rely on GILBERT, the more valuable he would be to Boemelburg. Déricourt’s only other concern was for Rémy and JuJu. They had to be protected from all eventualities. If it worked, FARRIER would be safe and Boemelburg would become a hero.

There were many solemn promises and declarations, ‘Even if Germany loses this war, we’ll take care of you. We’ll get you a new identity, take you to some neutral country, see that you have enough money to start a new life.’
¹³
Déricourt, however, preferred to look after his own future.

On 14 April, Déricourt was at the Gare d’Austerlitz for a rendezvous with a radio operator called Maurice Clech. Déricourt told him to buy a ticket and then meet with him again, outside the station at Amboise. From there they walked to a small restaurant where Clément was waiting. Clément went ahead to set up the flare path, the others would follow in an hour. It was another double Lysander operation, bringing in four important organizers and their assistants. Déricourt and Clech collected bicycles Rémy had secreted outside the town and rode to a small field near the tiny hamlet of Poce’-sur-Cisse. Déricourt did not know for certain whether or not they were being observed. He had given their location to Boemelburg and had his assurances. They now had to wait and see.

For Rémy, that first operation was one of the most exciting moments of his life. The first few notes of the Mercury engine, drifting out of the thick night sky, sent
shivers of excitement down his spine. Down came Flying Officer Vaughan-Fowler, Déricourt flashed the recognition signal and the Lysander acknowledged. Rémy dashed out to the aircraft and up to the ladder. Down came Henri Frager (PAUL), after him came Dubois (HERCULE). Meanwhile Déricourt had leapt up on the wing-struts towards the pilot’s cockpit and passed over the mail Suttill had given him. With the passengers clear, the thumbs-up was given and Vaughan-Fowler took the Lysander down the Amboise field.

In the air, circling the field in another Lysander, was Flying Officer McCairns and two passengers. Once Vaughan-Fowler was airborne and at a safe distance Déricourt signalled to the other pilot that he could begin his approach. McCairns began his descent too soon, much further from the field than was safe. Rémy could tell something was wrong and asked Déricourt, ‘Why don’t they put on their landing lights?’ Déricourt shrugged. The pilots were reluctant to turn their lights on until they were on the ground, for fear of being seen. But the sound of the huge Bristol engine could be heard for miles and everyone in the neighbourhood knew when an aircraft was in the area. Then crack!

On the ground it sounded like heavy timber snapping; in the cockpit, it was the sound of splintering and tearing material. There had been a collision with a small tree. The aircraft rose up then the engine was heard to throttle back and the aircraft descended like a stone, crashing and shaking itself to a halt near Déricourt’s torch. McCairns was furious. He and Déricourt bellowed at each other above the engine noise as Rémy helped the two passengers down.

There was nothing Déricourt could say that could explain the situation; McCairns was convinced it was the reception committee’s error and he would say so in his report. At Tangmere they found the propeller badly damaged, the extra fuel tank gashed and the tailplane hanging by a single bracket. The pilot was lucky to have made it
back to base under the circumstances. He had been doubly lucky. First there was the fire in the plane’s engine back in March, now this. It was a black mark for the SOE and Déricourt’s credibility was about to take a plunge.

Back on the field at Amboise another complication was developing that would also affect the future of Déricourt’s operation. It started as a simple argument with one of the new arrivals. Beneath the small grove of trees where the bicycles had been stored, Rémy had been trying to organize the next stage, transporting four passengers and nine packages of equipment. Phillipe Liewer and his assistant, a French Canadian named J. C. Chartrand, were heading north to Rouen, where they were to set up a new group codenamed SALESMAN. The other couple, Henri Frager and his wireless operator A. Dubois, had arrived to establish the network DONKEYMAN in the Yonne district, north of the Loire. Frager had only been out of the country for three weeks and had returned to pick up the threads of what had already been a long tour of duty. He and Suttill had developed close ties and these would continue, though the DONKEYMAN and PROSPER networks were not formally linked.

Déricourt had planned to take them as far as the little town of Amboise, a few kilometres away, where they could take a quiet local train to Orléans or wherever. Frager had other ideas. He had no interest in Amboise, he preferred to go straight on to the city of Tours and catch a train from there.
¹⁴
The idea seemed absurd to Déricourt, Tours was over 30 kilometres away. Still a little shaken after his row with the RAF, Déricourt was in no mood for an argument. In fact there was more than a little tension on both sides. Frager, not the calmest of individuals at the best of times, was prepared to make an issue of it right there under the trees.