The pregnant woman had her left ankle in plaster, her right thigh heavily bandaged, and matched Armande’s sling with one of her own.
“We are well, thank you, Général.”
There was no more to be said, so Rossiter plunged headfirst into the maelstrom.
“As you know, I’ve spoken with Henri Ribiere, and we both agree that this supposed robbery was a deliberate assassination attempt aimed at you, Madame.”
Anne-Marie nodded but said nothing.
“You met with General Strong, did you not?”
“Yes.”
“May I ask why?”
Ribiere had already told her to cooperate fully with Rossiter’s questions, so the words flowed quickly.
“I was going through Georges de Walle’s things and found some information that needed to be presented to General Strong as quickly as possible.”
She waited as he took a sip of the superb Earl Grey.
“I spoke to him about the death of Georges, and how it was not what it appeared. I believed that the bomb was aimed at him, not the German legionnaires. The death of Gehlen was also not what it seemed. There are other links possibly connected to the two intelligence officer’s deaths, which are German… suspicions. A place called Uspenka, Uranprojekt… VNIEF…”
“VNIIEF… the Soviet atomic weapons programme… apologies, please continue.”
“I don’t think I need to… do I, Général??”
Rossiter’s face had been quite expressive.
“Actually, no. This fits with other information. I will tell you, and this is not to be discussed, especially with your husband… we received a file from the Soviets that makes certain allegations against the Germans. Officially it is viewed with deep mistrust, and seen as a tool for the spreading of discontent amongst the Allies.”
He leant forward.
“Unofficially, it would appear to have some substance, and we now suspect German involvement in the deaths of Georges de Walle, Gehlen… and the loss of General Strong’s aircraft.”
Rossiter let that sink in whilst he finished his tea.
“Merde!”
Armande Fleriot spoke softly but the word carried all her surprise and fear with great eloquence.
“Madame Knocke, I need to know how you came by the information… Uspenka… U235?”
“It was a note sent to my husband by his dead cousin.”
“Dead cousin?”
“Pardon. What I meant was a cousin who had been considered long dead. It was first sent to Ernst’s godmother in the Mosel, and she forwarded it to him.”
“Do you know how she came by it?”
“No idea. Ernst did intend to go and see her to discuss the matter, but the war overtook his intentions. To be honest… she was associated with the camp system. Ernst distanced himself from her once he knew that. You understand.”
“Of course. May I ask the godmother’s name and address?”
“Frau Hallmann… Annika Hallmann… Haserich in the Mosel… not far from Zell-Mosel… it’s a small place apparently.”
“I’ll find it. Thank you very much for your time, ladies. I hope your recoveries go well… and to you, Madame, I hope your child is well and healthy when he or she comes into this unsettled world.”
He stood, followed by Armande. Anne-Marie could not, so simply offered her hand to the American officer.
“Enchanté, Général.”
“It has been a pleasure, Madame Knocke.”
“I’ll walk you to the door, Général. I need to stretch my legs.”
“Général, thank you for being candid with us.”
“I made a judgement call, Madame. I was left in no doubt that I could trust you. You are both highly thought of by your seniors.”
Armande dropped her head in courteous acknowledgement of the compliment.
“Two things. May I trouble you for a map, and then may I please make a call?”
“But of course, Général. This way.”
She led him into the library and retrieved a 1938 Michelin map of the Mosel.
Rossiter had not expected anything less from the older woman.
Quickly checking the area, he moved to the phone and placed a call.
“General Rossiter’s office, Major Cortez speaking.”
“Jed, it’s me. I’m still keeping this whole thing tight, so I’m off on my travels again. What facilities have we got near Haserich in the Moselle?”
“Give me a minute, General.”
Rossiter could hear doors opening and shouts, and was able to imagine Cortez moving into the outer office and calling for maps and information.
It was a surprising short time before the Major was back on the telephone.
“Assuming you want to be able to land, you can do so between Haserich and nearby Blankenrath. Sloped but clear.”
“No, I want a facility that I can get some men from.”
“Trouble, sir?”
“Just being careful, Jed.”
“OK, Sir. We have fuel and medical facilities at Zell, but nowhere to land… hang on… Kappel… there’s a small dirt strip at Kappel… and a French military office in the centre of the village.”
Sam Rossiter found Kappel and decided it was perfect.
“Excellent. I need you to get hold of the frogs… pardon me, our French Allies…” he shrugged apologetically to Armande Fleriot, “…and let them know I’m coming, and will need a vehicle and four of their men armed for bear.”
“Anything else, Sir?”
The question was more about Cortez’s need for information than enquiring as to Rossiter’s needs.
“It’ll have to keep, Jed. I’m off to Kappel straight away.”
“Take care of yourself, General.”
He gently replaced the ornate handset, only just noticing the enamel inlays in the carved handle.
Armande Fleriot broke his thought process.
“Anne-Marie did not ask, but I will. Will they come again?”
Rossiter considered his answers and quickly decided not to bother to hide the facts.
“Yes. We’ve more information now, but we’re not advertising it. So, if it’s true, they’ll still think that the matter is containable. In which case, it’s likely they might try again. You’ve a security team for that purpose, do you not?”
“Of course, but I just wanted to hear it from you. I suspected as much… as does Anne-Marie. We shall remain vigilant. Goodbye, Général.”
“Madame Fleriot.”
As the general made his way back to the waiting aircraft, habit made Armande extract the pistol from her shoulder sling and check it for the tenth time that day.
‘We’ll be ready next time, you German bastards!’
1638 hrs, Wednesday, 19th March 1947, Haserich, Mosel.
Rossiter and the French captain listened impassively to the explanation offered by the local police.
“This very morning, Herr General. We were summoned by ourbriefträger… err… postingman, Herr Pfluggman. He had some bread from his wife for Frau Hallmann and entered the house.”
He noticed Rossiter’s expression.
“They are acquaintances… and Frau Pfluggman is… was friends with Frau Hallmann.”
The body was carried out of the building by two ancient attendants and placed in the waiting truck.
The policeman ventured more information.
“He found her in the basement. Looks like two blows to the back of the head. First thought was that she could have fallen down the stairs and hit her head on the way down.”
“But?”
“There are things here that are not as they seem, Herr General.”
He beckoned them to follow him, not down into the basement, but into the barn attached to the property.