‘And three rijksdaaler.’
‘One with a note probably telling them, “I think she’s onto me.”’
‘But is it that they still don’t know the alias she’s using? Is it that her use of the name Annette-Melanie Veroche is still secure?’
‘Who really knows, not even herself probably, though she’ll be thinking those shoes could well give her away.’
‘Those diamonds and the boart that she had already hidden should also be included in what is now before us.’
‘But do they know of those as well? Did they beat that out of Meyerhof-and beat him they will have, and she’ll have figured that out too.’
Frans had trapped her, felt Anna-Marie: Frans had known that after Etienne’s little visit she would wait and then try to quietly leave the house to speak to Arie who would be in the barn with the truck.
‘There are coins and then there are coins,’ he said. ‘Is that what you told our passeur? Gold louis, eh, or was it of others that are so heavy they refuse to ring when flipped in the air or tossed onto the table in payment for a night of whatever it is you have to offer?’
‘How dare you?’
Instantly, she tried to get away, but he would grab that bandaged hand and hold it tightly.
Wincing, she defiantly waited, steadfastness and loyalty even to a dead lover still registering, but he’d simply say, ‘I don’t dare. I merely ask.’
‘Then let go of me.’
So close was he still, the thyme, used dry tea leaves, carrot tops and whatever else he’d been smoking with tobacco, were on each breath, and when he smiled, she could see the way his features changed as if he knew exactly the expression he wanted and had absolute control over himself.
Blue-eyed, fair of skin and hair, the cut that of the military for he would have needed it that way, he was not overly handsome but now knew beyond doubt that she was afraid of him. ‘I don’t know to what you’re referring unless it is that there are two louis d’or. The first dates from 1640 and was minted during the reign of Louis XIII. The second, which superseded it in 1795, is clearly marked twenty francs.’
‘And the gold napoleons?’ he asked without that smile, but as if curious, as if he would gladly enter into a discussion about them.
‘1857 followed by a second dated 1869, both denoting a twenty- shy;franc piece.’
‘And worth a lot more now, I guess, but it sounds as if you’ve been tracking the marche noir for the Banditen. Have you?’
Ah merde, had he known that too, or merely guessed? ‘Coins are a curiosity, that’s all.’
‘Then you’ll know all about the one I mentioned.’
‘Since most are made of zinc these days, would it really matter?’
Having forced her up against the corridor wall outside her room, he made as if to turn away, only to turn back suddenly to touch her left cheek with the backs of three fingers. Pressing his middle against hers, finding an earlobe, too, he fingered it tenderly as a lover might and said at last, ‘You like the Moet et Chandon, but are you easier after a glass or two?’
Everything told her to say nothing, but the temptation was too great. ‘Was that why you chose it over the others when you climbed into the back of that van to toast your having killed those two?’
The smile he would give, decided Oenen, would be of the little boy who had just got the better of an older sister he rather hated when necessary, which was most times. ‘Ah bon, mademoiselle, I think we understand each other perfectly.’
Had he been taken through the house at home? Had the Moffen brought him there to better familiarize himself with her? Had he or they found another snapshot of Henki and herself at Zandvoort, like the one she had then brought to Paris last December, the one with that bottle behind them in the sand, Henki having opened it to toast their engagement? Or had he been shown the snapshot Henki would have carried not in his wallet, but hidden? ‘Again, I must tell you I simply don’t know what you mean. I’ve told Etienne nothing he didn’t already know. I’ve even apologized for doubting you.’
And given without a quaver, felt Oenen, so he would angrily stiffen and tell her how it was, ‘Eine Mischlinge, eh? Eine Halbjudin, ja, Fraulein Anna-Marie Vermeulen?’
The transformation to an SS officer had been instant.
Releasing her, turning brutally away to go down the stairs, he said as if throwing it over a shoulder to gestapistes francais, ‘Employez la baignoire avec la glace, mes amis. Maybe the chill will loosen her tongue, but be sure not to drown her.’
Shade filled the rue Daru as dusk approached. Up from the Seine came the first touches of the evening’s fog, but he wouldn’t go along the street just yet, felt St-Cyr. He would continue along the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honore, would keep mingling with others on foot and never look back. He had to be absolutely certain of not being followed, and that, of course, was only the start of it, for he had then to somehow leave convincing evidence for Anna-Marie Vermeulen so that she would agree to meet and not vanish if she did manage to get into Paris.
The Salle Pleyel had two secondary entrances on the rue Daru. The first, and nearest to him as he crossed that street, was just around its corner with the Faubourg Saint-Honore. A courtyard entrance shy; allowed shy; those in private cars and taxis to be dropped off. The second shy;, and more plebeian was, he knew, well along the street and all but next to the Cathedrale Alexandre Nevesky. Artistes shy;-musicians shy;, even Cortot perhaps-would enter there, dancers too, and those who worked in the studios. And across from that, of course, was Chez Kornilov, but was it not favoured also by those who ran Reichsmarschall Goring’s biggest purchasing agency, the Bureau Munimin-Pimetex? It was, and yes, unfortunately Sergei Lebeznikov shy;, alias Serge de Lenz of Rudy de Merode’s gang, would be all too familiar shy; with it and with them, especially as Goring had astutely ordered that his purchasing agency be run only by Frenchmen shy;.
‘Since those will know where things are and have all the necessary connections,’ he said as if to her. ‘Merde, mademoiselle, but you do have the linkages, and not just to Hector Bolduc via that mistress of his, or to Madame Nicole Bordeaux and the cream of Parisian society.’
Munimin-Pimetex was attached to Goring’s Ministry of Armaments and Munitions, and bought hugely and constantly and still did, for the Reich desperately needed evermore quantities of everything. ‘Including diamonds,’ he softly said.
Hermann and Evangeline Rocheleau had let him off at the Quai de Valmy. Right away, though, those who would try to follow had been far more careful than last time. Taking the metro, crowded as it always was especially on a Sunday, had helped, changing trains as well, but could one ever be certain?
Coming to place des Ternes, he stood as if waiting for someone beside one of Guimard’s marvellous art nouveau entrances. Evangeline Rocheleau had had a life history that had overflowed yet Hermann, being Hermann, had listened attentively and had made no attempt to stop the torrent. Indeed, he had encouraged it and hadn’t even silenced her incessant questioning of their past and present lives and investigations. Instead, he had plucked bits of truth to commingle with the elaborate fiction he had concocted shy;, this partner of his having to listen to it all while crammed into the backseat of his own car next to that woman’s three suitcases.
Hermann was to show her a little of the city while there was still some light, and to find her an hotel where she could freshen up. Later they would meet in the foyer of the Hotel George V and go into the Boeuf sur la Toit together to encounter the husband and Herr Ludin.