Death Has Deep Roots by Michael Gilbert Page A

so.”
    “Suppose then – I just put it to you – that the prisoner was not actually interested in contacting Major Thoseby himself, but was trying to contact someone else through him. And suppose that on each occasion Major Thoseby made suggestions to the prisoner as to how she could best do this – a line she might follow, a contact who might be useful to her – you can see what I mean?”
    “Yes.”
    Then when each suggested line petered out, she would naturally write to you again to put her in touch with Major Thoseby again.”
    “It is possible.”
    There was nothing in her communications with you which was inconsistent with such an explanation?”
    “I agree.”
    Mr. Summers did not re-examine.

 
Chapter Thirteen
     
    “Your name is Marcel Lode? You have the rank of Commissaire de Ville?”
    “Yes.”
    “During the war you were patron of the Maquis in the district of Angers? You were acquainted with the deceased and worked with him?”
    “Yes.”
    “Were you acquainted also with the prisoner?”
    “Yes, but to a lesser degree. She was not one of the workers with whom I had much contact. She came to me once or twice with messages.”
    “But you knew the deceased well.”
    “Major Thoseby? Yes. Very well indeed. I worked at hand-to-hand with him for many months in all the affairs of the Maquis.”
    “He was attached to your section?”
    ‘To mine and to many others. He was chief adviser to all of us in the districts of Maine-et-Loire, of Indre-et-Loire and of Loir-et-Cher. The whole of the Basse Loire area.”
    “The farm which we have heard of – Père Chaise’s farm – was in this area?”
    “Certainly. It was near Langeais, in the Bois de Langeais – a few kilometres north of the river.”
    “That would not be in your own particular district?”
    “No. It was in that of Tours. You must not imagine, though, that we were strictly – what is the word I want? – sectionalised. I would often visit Langeais, and Chinon – for the exchange of ideas – also, sometimes, for a change of air when that became necessary.”
    “So you can tell us, from first-hand knowledge, of the conditions at Langeais, and at this farm.”
    “Yes, I can. I think perhaps we were not very clever about Père Chaise’s farm. I say so in retrospect. There were in every district certain households that were known to be safe. Certain householders in whom we had reliance. I think that in Père Chaise we had too much reliance. I do not mean that he betrayed us consciously. He would certainly never have done that. But he was a jovial, talkative man. A boaster. He had what we call the ‘Gascon’ temperament. Very soon I think the Germans knew that he harbored Resistance workers in his house in the woods.”
    “But they did nothing about it?”
    “For a time, no. To catch one or two less important members of the Resistance – that was not their object. Soon, however, their patience was rewarded. A bigger prize offered. A British agent, Lieutenant Wells, arrived in the district. Even then they waited. It was no doubt in their minds that Major Thoseby or one of the other leaders might contact Lieutenant Wells at this farm.”
    “But they did not do so.”
    “Fortunately – fortunately for him, I mean – Major Thoseby was at that time in Switzerland. By the time he got back the Germans had tired of waiting and had raided the farm.”
    “When was that?”
    “On September twenty-sixth, 1943.”
    “Were you in Langeais at the time?”
    “No. When the raid took place I was at Amboise, that is the other side of Tours. I came quickly to Langeais to see if I could be of assistance. After such a raid there was always a lot of clearing up to do – of countermeasures to be taken.”
    “I quite understand. Was it your impression that Lieutenant Wells had been taken by the Gestapo, or that he had been killed in the raid?”
    “It would have been very unlike the Gestapo to have killed him at once. They would require him for