‘Only to then be killed.’
‘Having tried her damnedest to remove and hide the earrings.’
Herr Kohler methodically added more bread to his soup and stirred it in. He was not happy, thought Ines, was disgruntled.
‘Could Celine have been trying to protect Blanche and Paul, Louis? She must have known they’d taken the earrings for Menetrel, would have known de Fleury had been given them and had been told to tell her to wear them.’
‘Mademoiselle Charpentier was her friend and confidante, Hermann. She would have wanted to protect Olivier if only to protect the sculptress.’
‘Then Olivier didn’t walk her to her death — is that what you’re saying?’
The Surete’s plate of soup was offered and accepted, Herr Kohler’s empty one set aside.
‘Not at all. What I am saying is that, by openly confiding that he suffered from night blindness, was Monsieur Olivier attempting to convince us that he couldn’t possibly have done it? Ten minutes, Hermann. They walk from light into darkness and Celine escapes when they reach the Hall. She goes to ground having realized it and he …’
‘Holds the doors shut while the other one — Edith — hunts her down and kills her.’
‘Why?’
‘Because she knew too much, had become a danger to them.’
Their sausage and sauerkraut arrived. More beer, more pastis and bread were called for, noted Ines, the two of them digging in as if at a last meal. Some cheese and even a few of the petits fours the ladies were enjoying were also requested. The noise of the dining room was seemingly everywhere, yet they ignored it totally.
‘Even if Olivier did send messages for Ines Charpentier to deliver to the FTP in Paris, Hermann — and I’m not suggesting he didn’t, given the opportunity, or denying that the girl would probably have willingly agreed to carry them — Lucie Trudel would not have been aware of them. Olivier’s no fool. After that first letter of his to Mademoiselle Charpentier, all others would have been enclosed in the envelopes from Madame Dupuis. He’d have insisted on it.’
Herr Kohler gestured with his fork, stabbing it towards his partner to emphasize the point, but what point? wondered Ines, still unable to take her eyes from their table.
‘Lucie could have opened one and read it, Louis, and if so, and if he’d learned of it, as he surely would have, Olivier would have gladly smothered her.’
‘I found no such letter in her room.’
‘Precisely! It had been removed because it had to be!’
‘And when she came downstairs to fetch a candle for that room of Noelle Olivier’s,’ muttered St-Cyr, ‘Edith Pascal realized Olivier had confided to me that he was the FTP’s district leader, and had called him a fool. The night blindness would cover him for the death of Mademoiselle Marie-Jacqueline Mailloux, Hermann — an unlighted Grande etablissement thermal, in a few minutes which were certainly not enough time for the blindness to clear. It would also suit with the death of Camille Lefebvre since how could one so afflicted readily escape into darkness as our Secretaire general fired at him?’
‘But Lucie would have gone from darkness outside into light,’ said Hermann, cutting off another piece of sausage and then heaping his fork also with sauerkraut.
‘But … but you’re forgetting that her killer would have had to step into darkness to escape.’
Herr Kohler took a pull at his beer and then put two sausages on his partner’s plate, some ham, too, thought Ines, and potatoes, gesturing that St-Cyr absolutely must eat.
‘Now what about the husbands, Louis? Each of them had a great deal to lose and Menetrel would certainly have put it to them in no uncertain terms that their girlfriends were informants.’
Good for Hermann.
‘Create the myth of a Resistance threat, Louis, by leaving that little V for Victory. Get the Garde to paint a few slogans, et cetera, and use it all not only to get rid of the traitors, for that is what the doctor would have thought of those girls, but to emphasize the need for increased security before that responsibility is taken from him.’
‘Find someone everyone knows about. A recluse,’ muttered Louis. ‘A cuckold, Hermann. One who must hate Petain with a passion.’
‘But do they suspect he’s of the FTP? Could they? If he does suspect it, the doctor would damned well make certain Vichy took care of its own. He’d not want Gessler knowing that the resident recluse had had his ear so close to the ground that he’d found out everything ahead of time and had made a mockery of the Government.’
‘But does Olivier have that ear, mon vieux? Bien sur, he implied he was well informed and couldn’t reveal his sources, but …’
‘Menetrel could damned well have left that little V for Victory, Louis, knowing Laval would be certain to have a look at the corpse and become convinced of the campaign of terror.’
The doctor would have too. Ah merde, it didn’t bear thinking about, but had they stepped into a power struggle, each side now desperately making its countermoves — the rats, the corpse; the corpse, the knife and then the identity card, and then … then the dress and sapphire beads, the love letters, too, not only to complete the costume and the legend of the unfaithful wife but to emphasize the guilty husband?
Except that Hebert, and presumably Menetrel, had not known the dress and necklace had been left in Celine Dupuis’s room. The love letters too … Had they been left, then, by Olivier or Edith Pascal?
‘Admit it, we need answers, Louis.’
A curt nod was given to indicate the occupants of a nearby table, Ines noted and again held her breath.
‘From that one in particular, mon vieux. The one in the vermilion suit, the Indian brass and pearl necklace and the North African turban. That thing on her head is from Morocco, isn’t it? My eyes … The lack of vitamin A …’
And Auguste-Alphonse Olivier, the years 1924 and ’25 when the Victor of Verdun had been married to that one for four and then five years. ‘Wounded … Nom de Jesus Christ, Louis, that hatchet wouldn’t just have threatened Petain with his service revolver for fooling around on her, she’d have shot his balls off!’
‘Ah oui, certainement, but remember, please, that Menetrel warned us to leave her out of things.’
‘Then go and talk to her and let’s hope he’s not been scheming and dreaming behind our backs.’
They were still at their table, St-Cyr now standing and about to leave to talk to Madame Petain. ‘Inspectors, excuse me a moment, please. There … there is something I must tell you,’ said Ines. She would have to endure their suspicious gazes, she must! ‘The vomit Albert found in that toilet. It … it was mine, I think.’
‘Nom de Jesus Christ, Hermann, what the hell is it with Vichy? Does it bring out the liar, the arch-schemer, the thief, corrupter, cheat and killer in everyone we meet? Mademoiselle.’ Louis calmed himself. ‘Please explain yourself.’
‘Yesterday morning, after Dr Menetrel had come to find you in the foyer of the Hotel du Parc, but before I went to see Celine’s body for myself and Herr Kohler was surprised to find me in the Hall, I was so upset I … I had to throw up. Albert must have seen me dash into that outdoor toilet. The men were clearing the snow. Has he confused me with her killer and is this why he feels I’m such a threat? It must be. It must!’
‘She did look like death warmed over, Louis. I thought … Ah! that the iron man and his flash were what had made her so pale.’
‘And sickly? Talk to her, then, Hermann. Try to force yourself to wring every last drop of juice out of this grape, but if she lies, give her a pair of bracelets to wear and throw the key away! You are not leaving us, mademoiselle. From now until the close of this investigation, you are staying with us!’
‘That might not be possible, Louis.’