The van slowed in the chemin de La Carrire and pulled into the yard of a champagne house called Laperriere. Hans drove past and turned the next corner, and Dieter's driver followed. They pulled up and Dieter leaped out.
"I think the Jackdaws hid out there overnight," Dieter said.
"Shall we raid the place?" Hans said eagerly.
Dieter pondered. This was the dilemma he had faced yesterday, outside the cafe. Flick might be in there. But if he moved too quickly, he might prematurely end Michel's usefulness as a stalking horse.
"Not yet," he said. Michel was the only hope he had left. It was too soon to risk losing that weapon. "We'll wait."
Dieter and Hans walked to the end of the street and watched the Laperriere place from the corner. There were a tall, elegant house, a courtyard full of empty barrels, and a low industrial building with a flat roof Dieter guessed the cellars ran beneath the flat-roofed building. Moulier's van was parked in the yard.
Dieter's pulse was racing. Any moment now, Michel would reappear with Flick and the other Jackdaws, he guessed. They would get into the van, ready to drive to their target-and Dieter and the Gestapo would move in and arrest them.
As they watched, Michel came out of the low building. He wore a frown and he stood indecisively in the yard, looking around him in a perplexed fashion. Hans said, "What's the matter with him?"
Dieter's heart sank. "Something he didn't expect." Surely Flick had not evaded him again?
After a minute, Michel climbed the short flight of steps to the door of the house and knocked. A maid in a little white cap let him in.
He came out again a few minutes later. He still looked puzzled, but he was no longer indecisive. He walked to the van, got in, and turned it around.
Dieter cursed. It seemed the Jackdaws were not here. Michel appeared just as surprised as Dieter was, but that was small consolation.
Dieter had to find out what had happened here. He said to Hans, "We'll do the same as last night, only this time you follow Michel and I'll raid the place."
Hans started his motorcycle.
Dieter watched Michel drive away in Moulier's van, followed at a discreet distance by Hans Hesse on his motorcycle. When they were out of sight, he summoned the three Gestapo men with a wave and walked quickly to the Laperriere house.
He pointed at two of the men. "Check the house. Make sure no one leaves." Nodding at the third man, he said, "You and I will search the winery." He led the way into the low building.
On the ground floor there was a large grape press and three enormous vats. The press was pristine: the harvest was three or four months away. There was no one present but an old man sweeping the floor. Dieter found the stairs and ran down. In the cool underground chamber there was more activity: racked bottles were being turned by a handful of blue-coated workers. They stopped and stared at the intruders.
Dieter and the Gestapo man searched room after room of bottles of champagne, thousands of them, some stacked against the walls, others racked slantwise with the necks down in special A-shaped frames. But there were no women anywhere.
In an alcove at the far end of the last tunnel, Dieter found crumbs of bread, cigarette ends, and a hair clip. His worst fears were dismally confirmed. The Jackdaws had spent the night here. But they had escaped.
He cast about for a focus for his anger. The workers would probably know nothing about the Jackdaws, but the owner must have given permission for them to hide here. He would suffer for it. Dieter returned to the ground floor, crossed the yard, and went to the house. A Gestapo man opened the door. "They're all in the front room," he said.
Dieter entered a large, gracious room with elegant but shabby furnishings: heavy curtains that had not been cleaned for years, a worn carpet, a long dining table and a matching set of twelve chairs. The terrified household staff were standing at the near end of the room: the maid who opened the door, an elderly man who looked like a butler in his threadbare black suit, and a plump woman wearing an apron who must have been the cook. A Gestapo man held a pistol pointed at them. At the far end of the table sat a thin woman of about fifty, with red hair threaded with silver, dressed in a summer frock of pale yellow silk. She had an air of calm superiority.
Dieter turned to the Gestapo man and said in a low voice, "Where's the husband?"
"He left the house at eight. They don't know where he went. He's expected home for lunch."
Dieter gave the woman a hard look. "Madame Laperriere?"
She nodded gravely but did not deign to speak. Dieter decided to puncture her dignity. Some German officers behaved with deference to upper-class French people, but Dieter thought they were fools. He would not pander to her by walking the length of the room to speak to her. "Bring her to me," he said.
One of the men spoke to her. Slowly, she got up from her chair and approached Dieter. "What do you want?" she said.
"A group of terrorists from England escaped from me yesterday after killing two German officers and a French woman civilian."
"I'm sorry to hear that," said Madame Laperriere.
"They tied the woman up and shot her in the back of the head at point-blank range," he went on. "Her brains spilled out onto her dress."
She closed her eyes and turned her head aside. Dieter went on, "Last night your husband sheltered those terrorists in your cellar. Can you think of any reason why he should not be hanged?"
Behind him, the maid began to cry.
Madame Laperriere was shaken. Her face turned pale and she sat down suddenly. "No, please," she whispered.
Dieter said, "You can help your husband by telling me what you know."
"I don't know anything," she said in a low voice. "They came after dinner, and they left before dawn. I never saw them."
"How did they leave? Did your husband provide them with a car?"
She shook her head. "We have no gas."
"Then how do you deliver the champagne you make?"
"Our customers have to come to us."
Dieter did not believe her. He felt sure Flick needed transportation. That was why Michel had borrowed a van from Philippe Moulier and brought it here. Yet, when Michel got here, Flick and the Jackdaws had gone. They must have found alternative means of transport and decided to go on ahead. No doubt Flick had left a message explaining the situation and telling Michel to catch up with her.
Dieter said, "Are you asking me to believe they left here on foot?"
"No," she replied. "I'm telling you that I don't know. When I woke up, they had gone."
Dieter still thought she was lying, but to get the truth out of her would take time and patience, and he was running out of both. "Arrest them all," he said, and his angry frustration injected a petulant note into his voice.
The phone rang in the hall. Dieter stepped out of the dining room and picked it up.
A voice with a German accent said, "Let me speak to Major Franck."
"This is he."
"Lieutenant Hesse here, Major."
"Hans, what happened?"
"I'm at the station. Michel parked the van and bought a ticket to Marles. The train is about to leave."
It was as Dieter had thought. The Jackdaws had gone ahead and left instructions for Michel to join them. They were still planning to blow up the railway tunnel. He felt frustrated that Flick was continuing to stay one step ahead of him. However, she had not been able to escape him completely. He was still on her tail. He would catch her soon. "Get on the train, quickly," he said to Hans. "Stay with him. I'll meet you at Marles."
"Very good," said Hans, and he hung up.
Dieter returned to the dining room. "Call the chateau and have them send transportation," he said to the Gestapo men. "Turn all the prisoners over to Sergeant Becker for interrogation. Tell him to start with Madame." He pointed to the driver. "You can drive me to Marles."