B004U2USMY EBOK (31 page)

She turned away. Her stomach lurched.

The
Egyptienne
was set up tonight like a 1920s Chicago speakeasy. The girls wore
pearls and flapper dresses. Garish lamps, bartenders in gangster
suits and hats. A jazz quartet played in one corner, but they were
white men with painted black faces and painted pink lips.

Gemeiner had come in a few minutes before she
did. He also sat by himself. Unlike Hoekman, however, he’d allowed
himself to be surrounded by pretty girls and signaled the
bartender for drinks for his new companions. He slid her a glance,
then looked back to the girls at his side.

“Gaby! Over here!” It was Alfonse, standing
by the pool table with cue stick in hand. Christine stood behind
his shoulder.

“Watch this shot,” he said after she’d made
her way over.

He lined up, gave a confident hit to the cue
ball, then watched with a smug expression as it struck the three
ball, which in turn ricocheted at an angle and knocked the nine
into the corner pocket. The other German player snorted as Alfonse
lined up for another shot. Two more shots and he dropped the eight
ball. The two racked up for a return game.

“I’ve been thinking about Roger Leblanc,”
Christine said to Gabriela.

Gabriela gave a sideways glance to Colonel
Hoekman, still staring in her direction. She had to go over there,
and soon, but first, how could she get Christine away from danger?
Alfonse, too. She owed him that much.

“
Ouai
?”

“How did he convince the zazous that he was
one of them?”

“What do you mean?” Gabriela asked.

“He infiltrated their group,” Christine said.
“They just trusted him, why?”

“Because he was a zazou, of course.”

“No, he wasn’t,” she said, her tone
defensive. “You saw what happened. They let Roger go. He was with
the fascists, he had to be. He must have been all along. He was
nothing but a JPF and he grew his hair out so the zazous would
think he was one of them. You saw how they accepted us when we
dressed up. It can be done. That’s what Roger was doing.”

“And took on an effeminate air so people
would think he was homosexual? Learned how to draw? Cultivated an
attitude of not giving a damn for months so people would believe
it?”

Christine nodded. “He was good, wasn’t he?”

“He wasn’t good, Christine. He was a zazou
all along. He turned on them.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it. He was a collaborator.”

She tossed her hair. “We’re all
collaborators, Gaby. Doesn’t mean we denounce our friends. No, I
don’t believe it. It can’t be true.”

Gabriela looked at Alfonse. He was in the
middle of another series of excellent shots and laughing and
joking in German. She glanced over to Colonel Hoekman. When she
turned back, Christine was watching her.

“You’re not going to that Gestapo bastard
again, are you?” Christine asked.

“Yes, I am. ”

“I don’t understand you, Gaby. I try, but I
can’t. Do you need help, are you in trouble? If it’s money—”

“There is something you can do. How quickly
can you seduce a man?”

The concern vanished, replaced with a sly
smile. “Faster than you.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“You’ve got the face and the tits, but I’ve
got the cunning and the experience.” Her expression changed again.
“Wait, you’re not talking about Hoekman, that’s not what you want
me to do, is it?”

“No, of course not. What I’m asking is how
quickly you can get Alfonse out of here and back home with his
pants off.”

“He’s into his pool game now. I figured
another hour and then—”

“There’s no hour, Christine. You’ve got about
two minutes to seduce him.”

“Two minutes? What kind of a girl do you
think I am?”

“I’m serious, Christine, listen to me. If you
can’t do it, you’ve got to get yourself out at least. Say you’re
going out for fresh air, whatever.” She turned to go.

Christine grabbed her arm. “What? Why?”

“Just do it. It’s a question of life and
death.”

Gabriela left Christine staring after her and
made her way toward the colonel. She felt the extra weight in the
handbag over her shoulder. Inside, Helmut’s Mauser. She imagined
her hand closing around it, pointing it at Hoekman’s chest,
pulling the trigger. It would be loud. She needed to be prepared.
She couldn’t let it startle her.

Colonel Hoekman stood as she approached. A
wary look.

She licked her lips, tried to look nervous.
It wasn’t hard. “I-I’ve got that information. Can we go talk?”

He came around the table and put his hand on
her arm. “Let us go to my car.”

“No, we need to stay here, inside.”

“Come, be reasonable.”

“I won’t go to your car. I’ll only tell you
here, where I’m safe.”

“Really, I must insist. This place is too
public.” He tightened his grip.

“I’m warning you. I’ll scream.”

“Do you think that matters? I’m in charge
here, not you. Don’t forget it.”

Again, his French was greatly improved from
the last time she had seen him. Both accent and grammar. It was a
sharp mind against hers. Could he suspect her? She felt a trickle
of fear.

“I don’t trust you. If you take me in your
car, you’ll force me. Maybe my friends will never see me again. So
I’m going to scream. Maybe it won’t matter, but I’ll do it anyway.
I’ll scream and there will be a big scene.”

“You are making me angry.”

She changed her tone. “Please, I beg you. Be
reasonable. I’m going to tell you everything I know, there’s no
need to force me. Now please, people are going to notice. That
doesn’t help you, either. Alfonse is here, you don’t want to alarm
him when he’s with all his army friends.”

To her relief, Colonel Hoekman released her
arm. “Where, then?”

“How about one of the pleasure rooms in
back?”

“Any one in particular,
mademoiselle
?”
An edge of suspicion in his voice.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter, so long as it’s
private and we can talk. You’ll be interested in what I’ve
learned.”

He was hesitating, she could see, weighing
his options, his risks. She had to give him more.

Gabriela leaned forward and whispered with
her lips touching his ear. “I’ve found your
simple soldat
.
He’s been right under your nose. In fact, he’ll be here tonight.”

“What? I knew it. Who is it?”

“It’s not Alfonse, he’s apparently completely
innocent. But someone close to him.”

“Yes! It’s Herr von Cratz, isn’t it?”

“I can’t tell you here, not in the open.”

She’d stopped just short of denouncing
Helmut, but it didn’t matter. A few seconds alone and Hoekman
would be dead. He’d never tell anyone.

“When is he coming? What do you know?”

“Not here. We have to go somewhere where we
can talk freely. And you have to give me proof my father is alive.
You promised.”

He pulled back a pace, seemed to study her,
then nodded. “Let’s go back.”

Colonel Hoekman went first and it gave her a
chance to glance around the room. She saw Gemeiner studiously not
watching, but she also saw two other men who were. They played a
game of darts to one side and both gave a quick glance as Gabriela
and Hoekman passed. She pretended not to notice.

Who where they?

Gemeiner’s fellow conspirators? Undercover
Gestapo agents?

She followed Hoekman through a doorway that
led to a hallway lined with doors. Men with dark suits and cigars,
Chicago gangster style, stood in front of each room. Signs hung
from some of the doors, reading “
ne pas déranger
” and “
bitte
nicht stören.
”

Hoekman made to step through one of the doors
without a “do not disturb” sign and one of the faux-gangsters
waggled a cigar. “What’s the password to the speakeasy?”

“What do you mean, speakeasy?” Hoekman
demanded.

The man didn’t break from character. “The
password, Mister.”

Gabriela said, “You have to pay a small fee.”

“Ah, I see.” He handed over a few bills and
they stepped into the room.

It looked like a small hotel room with a bed
and pillows. Everything red. Prints of topless dancers and nude
women reclining on couches lined the walls. There was a window at
the back, drawn with a heavy red velvet curtain.

Hoekman examined the décor. “Disgusting.”

As soon as the door shut, Gabriela reached
into the bag. Hoekman’s back was partially turned.

Her fingers brushed the box magazine, found
the handle. Her finger slipped into the trigger. His back was
still turned. He wouldn’t know what was happening as the pain
sliced through him. She would be deprived of the satisfaction of
seeing the look on his face. But there would be a brief moment,
after the pain started, when he would know everything. He’d know
she’d discovered what he’d done to her father. He’d know he was
going to die for it.

Gabriela pulled out the Mauser.

The gun made a little snicking sound as it
brushed the metal clasp of her handbag. Instantly, Hoekman whirled
around. She had the gun free. It rose toward his chest. A bright
look of alarm on Hoekman’s face.

He had her wrist, he was twisting to the
side. She pulled the trigger. A sharp retort. The gun bucked. She
could feel the power of it. Hoekman twisted the gun out of her
grasp. He was too strong. She didn’t get off a second shot.

Hoekman swung the Mauser and it connected
with the side of her head. Pain exploded in her temple. She
crumpled to the ground.

Hoekman stood with a stunned look on his
face. He clutched his side. Blood soaked through his uniform and
oozed through his fingers. He looked down at his bloody hand. His
face turned pale.

“No.”

“You bastard,” she said through clenched
teeth from where she lay at his feet. “I saw what you did to him.
And now you’re going to die.”

He unbuttoned his coat with the shaking
fingers of one hand and peeled back his jacket. Pulled out his
shirt. And then gave her a look of triumph. “I don’t think so, not
today.”

It was true, oh, god, it was true. A nasty
gash on his side, but no penetrating hole into his gut. He’d
twisted the gun away just in time. He was only grazed. He’d been
too strong, just too strong. She felt a crush of despair.

Hoekman grabbed her by the hair. He dragged
her to her feet.

“I tried to be reasonable.”

Where were they? Someone had to have heard
the gun. It was so loud. There were men standing outside. Why
didn’t they come see what was wrong?

“Help! Somebody, help!”

“It seems these rooms are quite private, as
no doubt you considered when you brought me here to murder me. If
anyone hears a faint whisper of screaming, it will no doubt be
taken for amorous behavior. So go ahead, scream in passion. It is
expected.”

“Let me go!”

He held her at arm’s length, so high that she
had to stand on her toes to avoid being lifted entirely from the
ground. She clawed at his arm, but couldn’t get through his gloves
or shirt. He tossed the gun onto the bed.

“I have exhausted reasonable possibilities,”
he said. “All you leave me are the unreasonable options.” He used
his free hand to reach into his pocket. He pulled out a pair of
long-nosed metal pliers.

“What are you going to do with that?”

“I am going to extract information, of
course.”

“Please, no.”

“Yes,
mademoiselle
. Yes, we must.”

Chapter Twenty-six:

Hoekman threw Gabriela back to the floor. He
fell on her, pinned her with his knees. He grabbed her jaw with
his left hand, and lowered the pliers toward her mouth with the
other.

“No, please.” She felt weak with terror.

“Who is it? Is it von Cratz?”

“I don’t know, I barely know the man.”

“Why is he going to Marseille? What is he
doing there? Who does he keep meeting in Germany? Is he working
for Major Ostermann, or the other way around?”

“I don’t know anything, I was bluffing.
Please.”

“You will tell me now, or I will pull your
teeth.”

“I don’t know anything, I swear, I don’t.”

“You will change your mind.”

Hoekman squeezed her mouth, forced it open
enough to jam the nose of the pliers in, and grabbed one of her
teeth. She screamed.

“
Hör damit auf
!” shouted a man at
the doorway. More shouting in German.

Hoekman dropped the pliers and climbed slowly
to his feet, raised his hands. Gabriela scrambled away, reached
the edge of the bed, pulled herself up. She was shaking, she could
barely hold herself steady.

It was Gemeiner. He stood at the doorway with
a gun in his hands, which he pointed with steady hands at Hoekman.
He’d shut the door behind him.

Hoekman snarled something in return, but
Gemeiner shouted back. Neither man moved. Gabriela spotted
Helmut’s Mauser, lying on the floor where Hoekman had dropped it.
She snatched it up.

“Tell your friend to lower the gun,” Hoekman
said. “He is making a big mistake.”

“He doesn’t speak much French. Tell him
yourself.”

Gemeiner looked to Gabriela. “You have gun.
You shoot now? Yes? We go.”

“You’re making a big mistake,” Hoekman said.
He directed another angry tirade at Gemeiner, but now there was an
edge to his voice. Desperation, she thought.

She pointed the gun. The gun had felt so
solid in her hands before, but now she was shaking. She felt
lightheaded. She had to get control before she fired.

And then the door flew open again. Two men
entered. The first one slammed into Gemeiner. The two men went to
the ground. The attacker was younger and quickly disarmed the
older man. The second seemed to size up the situation, then
pointed a handgun at Gabriela.