see. It’s one of his lines, you know: I made the gift of my person to the French People and I will never desert them. You’re a reader, aren’t you? There’s a character in Dickens who keeps saying that – that she will never desert her husband. She’s absurd of course, and not only because her husband is an idiot. Do you know how many sensible people deserted in 1940? Save your skin if you can and all that. It made sense, didn’t it, sense of a sort anyway.
‘My son was taken prisoner,’ Lannes said, ‘and I’ve never read Dickens. My English novelists are Walter Scott and Stevenson. So you think the Marshal will stay?’
‘I’m sure of it.’
‘Poor man.’
‘You have a regard for him?’
‘I was at Verdun.’
‘Of course. A long time ago.’
‘There are days it seems like yesterday, and days it seems another life. For the Marshal too, doubtless.’
‘Perhaps. But there’s another thing. Admiral Darlan is himself in Algiers. Pure chance. His son is ill in hospital there. But he is still the Marshal’s Dauphin, and the word is, he’s determined to resist the Americans to demonstrate his loyalty to the Axis. It’s a question of course whether the Army there obeys him. But all this is a distraction from what you have come to report to me. Are you any closer to finding the killer of that wretched woman?’
‘There are days,’ Lannes said, ‘when I feel further away than ever.’
‘Do you find it strange that we concern ourselves with such questions at such a time?’
‘Strange perhaps, but what else can we do? It’s our métier, just as clerks go to their offices and the wine barons still make wine.’
He outlined all that he had learnt of the case and the course of his investigations, and finished by saying, ‘Nevertheless, it’s a case I want to solve. The dead woman was not admirable, I grant you, a procuress and, I believe, a blackmailer, but … ’
‘This fellow you have in a cell who claims to be her father, Ephraim Peniel, isn’t it?’
‘Or Édouard – he goes by both.’
‘From what you say, he has to be broken. I’ll interrogate him myself. That’s not a criticism of you, Jean, or of your methods, but I’ve found in the past that there are criminal types who defy the police because, if you forgive me, they live in the same milieu, but who are – what shall I say? – less at ease with the judiciary. Have him brought to me tomorrow. At eleven? Right?’
He stood up to indicate that their conversation was at an end, but, when Lannes remained seated, said, ‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’
‘Yes,’ Lannes said, and recounted his conversation with Karim.
Bracal crossed the room to his drinks cabinet and poured two brandies. As before he topped one up with soda water and passed the other to Lannes.
‘This is worrying,’ he said. ‘You believe the boy?
‘Yes.’
‘He sounds a disreputable type.’
‘Yes.’
‘But you believe him.’
‘Yes. He’s frightened, very frightened, and that often leads people to speak the truth. Besides, though he is indeed, as you say, disreputable, and what many would call degenerate, he has, odd as it may seem, a certain sense of honour. I don’t think he’s lying about this, though I’ve no illusions that he wouldn’t lie about other matters when it seemed prudent or necessary to him to do so. This fellow, Félix, he’s quite out of control. I think he may be mad, he’s certainly dangerous, and it’s the same nasty game he played before, which led to Schussmann’s suicide and all sorts of trouble.’
‘You hate him, don’t you?’ Bracal said.
‘I don’t hate people.’
Bracal raised an eyebrow.
‘You’re a strange one yourself, Jean.’
Lannes shook his head.
‘I don’t know about that,’ he said, ‘I hate what people do, often. I think he has to be stopped.’
‘Unquestionably. Do you plan to see him?’
‘I think I must.’
‘Very well. Keep me informed. We may have to take
‘My son was taken prisoner,’ Lannes said, ‘and I’ve never read Dickens. My English novelists are Walter Scott and Stevenson. So you think the Marshal will stay?’
‘I’m sure of it.’
‘Poor man.’
‘You have a regard for him?’
‘I was at Verdun.’
‘Of course. A long time ago.’
‘There are days it seems like yesterday, and days it seems another life. For the Marshal too, doubtless.’
‘Perhaps. But there’s another thing. Admiral Darlan is himself in Algiers. Pure chance. His son is ill in hospital there. But he is still the Marshal’s Dauphin, and the word is, he’s determined to resist the Americans to demonstrate his loyalty to the Axis. It’s a question of course whether the Army there obeys him. But all this is a distraction from what you have come to report to me. Are you any closer to finding the killer of that wretched woman?’
‘There are days,’ Lannes said, ‘when I feel further away than ever.’
‘Do you find it strange that we concern ourselves with such questions at such a time?’
‘Strange perhaps, but what else can we do? It’s our métier, just as clerks go to their offices and the wine barons still make wine.’
He outlined all that he had learnt of the case and the course of his investigations, and finished by saying, ‘Nevertheless, it’s a case I want to solve. The dead woman was not admirable, I grant you, a procuress and, I believe, a blackmailer, but … ’
‘This fellow you have in a cell who claims to be her father, Ephraim Peniel, isn’t it?’
‘Or Édouard – he goes by both.’
‘From what you say, he has to be broken. I’ll interrogate him myself. That’s not a criticism of you, Jean, or of your methods, but I’ve found in the past that there are criminal types who defy the police because, if you forgive me, they live in the same milieu, but who are – what shall I say? – less at ease with the judiciary. Have him brought to me tomorrow. At eleven? Right?’
He stood up to indicate that their conversation was at an end, but, when Lannes remained seated, said, ‘There’s something else, isn’t there?’
‘Yes,’ Lannes said, and recounted his conversation with Karim.
Bracal crossed the room to his drinks cabinet and poured two brandies. As before he topped one up with soda water and passed the other to Lannes.
‘This is worrying,’ he said. ‘You believe the boy?
‘Yes.’
‘He sounds a disreputable type.’
‘Yes.’
‘But you believe him.’
‘Yes. He’s frightened, very frightened, and that often leads people to speak the truth. Besides, though he is indeed, as you say, disreputable, and what many would call degenerate, he has, odd as it may seem, a certain sense of honour. I don’t think he’s lying about this, though I’ve no illusions that he wouldn’t lie about other matters when it seemed prudent or necessary to him to do so. This fellow, Félix, he’s quite out of control. I think he may be mad, he’s certainly dangerous, and it’s the same nasty game he played before, which led to Schussmann’s suicide and all sorts of trouble.’
‘You hate him, don’t you?’ Bracal said.
‘I don’t hate people.’
Bracal raised an eyebrow.
‘You’re a strange one yourself, Jean.’
Lannes shook his head.
‘I don’t know about that,’ he said, ‘I hate what people do, often. I think he has to be stopped.’
‘Unquestionably. Do you plan to see him?’
‘I think I must.’
‘Very well. Keep me informed. We may have to take
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