Tapestry (37 page)

‘What was he after, Louis?’

‘Something that girl would have hidden from her father.’

It wasn’t under her pillows or under the mattress or in it, nor was it under the rug or behind the armoire. It was on top of this last and hidden behind the trim of a scalloped moulding.

The envelope was of plain brown kraft and when shaken out, gave photos of Jourdan and the girl’s mother at their wedding, 10 July 1914, in Nancy. There was another of the couple taken at the Gare du Nord on Jourdan’s return from being a POW, the sergeant evidently still in a lot of pain but proudly wearing his Croix de guerre and Médaille militaire.

‘His Légion d’honneur also, Hermann.’

Louis found the red ribbon he’d recovered from the police academy killing and momentarily put the two together as an old soldier should.

‘Did one of them borrow or buy it from her?’

‘She’d not have sold it, even if threatened, Hermann, but told me that one of the building’s children must have been in and taken it, and that she’d get it back.’

‘And the boy, the young man in these?’

At the age of seven and that of nine perhaps, Noëlle and her friend had been photographed by someone in front of the stable; at the age of ten and twelve they’d used one of the Photomaton booths at the Bon Marché to catch themselves holding hands, Noëlle not grinning, not smiling, the boy doing so and thinking it all a lark.

At the age of fifteen and seventeen, they’d kissed and recorded the event in secret; at the age of nineteen and twenty-one the young man had found himself a camera and film and had photographed her both alone and with himself last autumn in front of that same stable.

He’d money. He’d a good job by the look and yes, he’d not been called up, hadn’t become a POW. ‘Our academy victim, Hermann?’

‘The loft, then, for another look.’

‘Just give me a moment with Jourdan.’

Louis could examine a corpse for the longest time.

‘His papers are missing, Hermann. They weren’t in the right trouser pocket or his shirt pockets, nor under him, nor on the night table or in the overcoat the daughter would have had to help him into.’

‘Was he searched?’

‘I’m certain of it.’

‘Then he’s very thorough, this killer of ours, very quick thinking and …’

‘Wants definitely to keep us from seeing something.’

‘But
what
? We know they’re supposed to be working for Boemelburg­ and Oberg, know they’re supposed to be helping us put a stop to things.’

‘Yet are the cause of them, Hermann. It begs answer.’

‘Jourdan obviously would have been a member of the
Grands Mutilés
.’

The association of them. ‘But that, in itself, is no reason to take his papers. Flavien Garnier is a member of the Union Nationale des Combattants, which is ultraconservative and has within it a very right-wing, reactionary, collaborationist faction.’

‘Who would like to see the wives and fiancées of certain POWs punished?’

In the South, in the former Free Zone, and in spite of stiff opposition to their doing so, Pétain and his government had banned all previous veterans’ organizations and had squeezed them into one, the Légion Française des Combattants, but in the north, in the former and still ‘Occupied’ Zone, the Occupier had seen such a single group as a decided threat and had banned it but allowed all the others to remain much to Vichy’s displeasure and consternation.

‘Is it that the Agence Vidocq has its own agenda, Hermann?’

Neither that of the SS and Gestapo, nor even of Berlin and the Occupier at large, but of themselves. ‘And with their former commanding officer again telling them what to do?’

‘Perhaps, but
ah, mais alors, alors,
Hermann, in the South, the far right of the Légion Française des Combattants is also known for similar attitudes and denunciations.’

‘Especially if hidden valuables are involved, and women are to behave themselves, aren’t they?’ said Kohler. ‘They’re to stay at home where they belong, with the children no matter how tough things get.’

‘Most of us veterans wouldn’t be a party to targeting anyone, but many would, I think, find it difficult to forgive the wife who strays even after what has become such a prolonged absence.’

Every request by Pétain and his government in Vichy to let those million-and-a-half POWs return to France had fallen on stone-deaf ears. ‘A popular cause, then?’

‘One that would at least engender the tacit approval from many if nothing else. Noëlle Jourdan could call on shopkeepers, some of whom were veterans and probably fellow UNCs.’

‘Her father wrote to others and
voilà
not only are his papers missing but his most recent letters.’

‘Unless earlier posted by the daughter.’

‘And Adrienne Guillaumet is the wife of an officer, Louis.’

‘Whereas Madame Barrault is that of a common soldier, the Agence Vidocq making sure that we would be assigned to both.’

‘But why the Tokarev? Why not a Luger, a Lebel or any other?’

‘Why, indeed, unless such a weapon, having easily been obtained on the black market, and later left at the scene of yet another assault and murder, would definitely point the finger of blame at the Communists.’

The Francs-Tireurs et Partisans . ‘Along with the bodies of two honest detectives.’

There were a number of upright wine barrels in the loft, and among them one whose lid, when removed, yielded wood shavings and sawdust that were to protect the rest of the contents and give comfort to gerbils. ‘A terra-cotta nymph, dated 1784, Hermann, and signed by Joseph-Charles Marin. The boy in those photos with Noëlle Jourdan had good taste.’

‘A silver breadbasket, Louis. Russian, I think.’

‘Gilded and enamelled to give the appearance of its having been woven.’

‘A Fabergé egg.’

And another. ‘Jewellery, Hermann. Earrings, bracelets … No diamonds that I can see, only trinkets perhaps, but …’

‘Good goods all the same.’

And stolen.

The concierge of Number 2 place des Vosges was bundled up in pink kneesocks, pompom slippers and housecoat, and not about to be forthcoming.

‘
WHY DO YOU ASK?’ she shrilled when shown one of the most recent snapshots of Noëlle Jourdan and friend.

The cat was clutched. Turning on the charm with this one wasn’t going to work, thought Kohler, but he’d try it anyway. ‘Look, it’s only a general inquiry.’

‘AT THIS HOUR?’

Incredulous at such a thought, she tossed the mangled heap of auburn curls with their bedtime twists of paper and threw still heavily made-up eyes to the ceiling. The damp fag end that clung to her lower lip miraculously remained in place. ‘Here, have one of these.’

A light was also offered but such politeness from the police should not be viewed with anything but suspicion, though the generosity was that of one of
les Allemands,
it was true, and he
did
speak French. ‘What is it you really want, Inspector? Has my little Max done something he shouldn’t?’

Max. ‘No, not at all.’

Had he done things in the past—was this what the inspector was now wondering? ‘He’s away in any case. In Lyon, on another pickup.’

Lyon. ‘It’s the girl we want to question, madame … ?’

‘Auger, Nina. And the madame is really quite immaterial since I was fool enough to have married him and mine went to his maker when that one was five years old.’

As did Noëlle Jourdan’s mother. The things one learned. ‘Life is never easy, is it?’

‘WHAT’S SHE DONE?’

‘Let some nosy photographer take some pictures.’

The
Hôtel-Dieu.
‘Ah! I thought so. You didn’t find her with that father of hers?’

‘He said she’d gone out.’

‘With the curfew coming at us like an express train?’

Louis should have heard her but was arranging for the district’s iron man to photograph the victims and the local
flics
to secure the sites.

‘She’s a tease, you know,’ said Nina, flicking ash away from the cat that was now draped across the claw-frayed back of an armchair that should have been thrown out years ago. ‘Always the promise,’ she went on, ‘never the little capital. That father of hers would have killed her too, I think, if she’d let my boy have her.’

Gott im Himmel,
she was a treasure, just like Bénédicte Mailloux, but a conspiratorial tone had best be used. ‘What, exactly, happened to her mother?’

‘Ah! who knows? Who can blame her for straying from such a man? The screams in the night, the agony of the shelling relived at the slightest bump and hour by hour. Mine was made of better stuff perhaps. Who’s to say? One day she had a fall and so did my Henri. Two places. The first in that house at Number 25, the second here in the stable out back and a little later. An
accident
, both of them.’

‘And the boy?’

‘Finally has a good job that pays well and has a future. The colonel saw to it. My husband’s colonel. Things are better now that
les Allemands
are here, of course, yourself included.’

Two further Gauloises bleues were laid on the slim oak counter of the
loge
she had ‘inherited’ from Henri, who’d been fucking Madame Mariette Jourdan up in that stable’s loft. Everyone had known of it. Everyone. Noëlle least of all.

‘Your son, madame. When do you think he’ll be back?’

‘Not for a few days. He’s often away on a job.’

‘A pickup, you said?’

‘Did I?’

‘
Zut alors,
I’m only trying to fill things in. My partner will ask. He’s a stickler for details.’

A partner … ‘Furniture and other household items. It’s a furniture company, isn’t it?’

‘Which one?’

‘The Lévitan. Very classy, you understand, very expensive in the old days, but a little something for everyone. Business must still be good.’

‘Furniture?’

‘That is just what I said, is it not?’

The Lévitan store was in the Faubourg Saint-Martin, in the Tenth, huge and with several warehouses and shops like carpentry ones, ah yes! ‘It was good of your son to come by and let you know he’d be away. Parents always worry, don’t they? Oh for sure, a mother most of all, but fathers too. I know I did.’

Did … ‘You have children?’

‘Had. Two boys, Jurgen and Hans, but … but they were both killed at Stalingrad.’

Hurriedly Nina crossed herself and kissed her fingertips but did this one with the terrible slash and the faded, warm blue eyes want more from her? ‘The boy didn’t come by. Always he is told at work if he is to be away, and I never hear of it until he’s back and worry just as you’ve said, but …’

He waited, this one. Gently he held D’Artagnan under the chin to look at him and then scratched him behind the ears as a cat lover does. ‘But Colonel Delaroche was passing by and thought to come in to tell me.’

‘Today?’

Why should it matter? ‘On Thursday afternoon. This last Thursday.’

Noëlle would have been at work. ‘That was good of him. Colonels are usually a bitch to put up with where I come from. Mine certainly were.’

He’d a nice smile, this inspector. Had he still a wife back home in that country of his? Was he lonely for her like so many of them were?

‘
Merci,
madame. You’ve been most helpful. I’d leave you some of my matches but am nearly out.’

‘And don’t have a lighter?’

‘You wouldn’t know where I could get one, would you?’

‘For a price, yes.’

‘And full of good fluid, not that black-market crap that singes the eyebrows and torches the clouds?’

‘Oui.’

‘How much?’

There would be no sense in this one’s haggling and he obviously knew the system well enough not to bother, but was offering to purchase, not threatening to steal. And weren’t friends needed, especially at such times as these?

Max wouldn’t mind, not really. Max would find her another. ‘Five hundred, I think.’

It was from Cartier’s, was easily worth thirty or forty times that and she knew it too, or knew something of it. ‘Here, take a thousand just to be on the safe side.’

Lost in thought, Louis fingered the lighter as they shared a cigarette in the Citroën, the darkness of
place
des Vosges all around them. The
flics
were taking their time in getting here and most probably were checking in with their headquarters at the Préfecture de Paris who would then check in with the rue des Saussaies, who would then do so with the avenue Foch, who would then notify the Höherer SS Oberg and maybe wake him up.

‘Did you tell her about her son, Hermann?’

‘I couldn’t. She deserves better, has had a hard life.’

‘Yes, yes, but …’

‘
Verdammt,
we needed information not tears. And as for her having earlier heard that shot of yours, forget it. That one would only have shrugged if asked, and sucked on her fag. You know as well as I that these days everyone clams up and no one admits to having heard a thing.’

‘Or seen anything.’

‘Why kill him if he was working for them?’

‘Them being the Einsatzstab Reichleiter Rosenberg, Hermann.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘The Aktion-M squads? One of those furniture squads that go around the city and the country raiding the houses of its citizens?’

‘And clearing them out, even of their Jewish toothbrushes and long-handled shovels, this last if not borrowed from that stable? All right, I admit he must have broken the rules and could no longer be trusted, but why kill him in such a fashion and then let the press know of it?’

Hermann was far from being naïve and knew the answer well enough but was blaming himself for the sins of his
confrères
and desperately needed support. ‘To set an example for others, especially as the Agence Vidocq must use part-timers, but still, you’re right. To have killed him in such a rage begs answer just as it did with the
passage
de l’Hirondelle victim.’

‘Max Auger took the stamps, Louis, and must have shown them to Noëlle Jourdan.’

‘Who then took them to Félix Picard of Au Philatéliste Savant.’

‘Having first sized up the shop.’

‘Which can only mean that the girl was working with Max as his partner and fence, Hermann. If not the shop, then Ma Tante, but gradually so as not to arouse suspicion.’