Carousel (43 page)

Nicole de Rainvelle. Ah Mon Dieu …

A burst of firing cut the air, sending shrieks and cries from the prisoners.

Droplets immediately began to fall from the holes in the roof. The smell of cordite mingled with the dampness as St-Cyr got cautiously up from behind one of the gondola cars. ‘Hermann … Hermann, it is –'

‘LOUIS, GET DOWN!'

The Schmeisser fired, the splinters flew. Charles Audit cried out in anger, ‘YOU BASTARDS …
BASTARDS
… MY CAROUSEL! My carousel …'

Again the place went to silence. Not a thing moved but the patient droplets of rain. St-Cyr could hear them as they hit the turtle's head. Hermann would hear them too.

Out of the silence came the quavering voice of Otto Brandl. ‘I have the Van der Lynn woman, Hermann, and the concierge from the Hotel of the Silent Life. You should not have left them at the Villa Audit!'

‘YOU HOLD NO CARDS!' shrilled Lafont, firing rapidly – three bursts … three. More rain, more shrieks! The tortured wailing of Madame Minou, and then:

‘Jean-Louis … Jean-Louis, please tell them,' pleaded Gabrielle Arcuri. ‘I think I love you, Jean-Louis. I will die gladly, but … but there are others. The hostages also.'

‘Inspector, don't!' shouted Réjean Tourmel. ‘Lafont will only kill you.'

‘Yourselves included,' snapped Pierre Bonny.

More silence, but this was broken by the weeping of Hermann's little pigeon.

Lafont, Bonny and their hostages would be off to the left of the entrance; Brandl and the other two well off to the right.

The falsetto voice of Henri Lafont rang out. ‘Your guns, Louis. Hurry, hurry, eh? Toss them out and raise the hands. Up! Up! or me, I will chew this place to pieces!'

‘Don't do it, Inspector,' shouted Charles Audit. ‘Without the gold and the emeralds that one has nothing.'

‘But we have four murders, monsieur,' began St-Cyr. ‘Surely their solution is worth more than all your hidden wealth?'

Again there was a pause, and then: ‘Clément, my friend, are you still at the controls?' hazarded St-Cyr.

Terrified, the monkey raced to freedom, dragging its chain and banging its cup.

‘
Clément Cueillard
! I have asked you to do your duty!' shouted St-Cyr tremulously.

From deep inside the workings came the voice of bitterness. ‘Is it that you think I am dead also, eh? You
shits
, messieurs. You call yourselves detectives! Are you
not
paid to protect the innocent?'

Ah merde! ‘Just start it up,' sighed St-Cyr. ‘Let us not have the general strike at a time like this. The lights, eh? and the action.'
Mon Dieu
, Paris … Paris these days!

‘
For your sake
, I hope that one has not shot everything to pieces, Inspector!' came the cry.

A tragedy, eh? Ah
Nom de Jésus-Christ!

The thing began to turn, slowly at first and then with gathering momentum. Punctured, the calliope could offer but reedy wheezings of ‘The Blue Danube'. The roundel lights came on, broken here and there, and in that moment St-Cyr stepped from behind the cage, blinking as he took it all in.

Hermann's little pigeon had been flung to the earthen floor. Nicole de Rainvelle held a straight razor to Gabrielle's cheek …

‘Hermann, don't move!' he hissed. ‘Please, my old one. I beg it of you. Nothing, eh? Not even a breath. Just leave things in my hands.'

Reluctantly Kohler moved away from Otto Brandl. Madame Van der Lynn ran a trembling hand through her hair; Madame Minou could not find the will to lift her eyes.

There was no sign of Captain Offenheimer and in that moment St-Cyr and Kohler knew Brandl had silenced him for ever.

Kohler tossed his pistol into the gathering mud and went to wrap his overcoat about Giselle le Roy and to brush a tender hand across her battered cheeks.

‘Now yours, Jean-Louis,' said Lafont, motioning with the Schmeisser.

The carousel went round and round, oblivious to all that was happening. St-Cyr hesitated. Pierre Bonny lifted his pistol to point it at Gabrielle Arcuri's chest.

Nicole de Rainvelle flicked her lovely eyes over the Sûreté's gumshoe and waited tensely for the one movement that would allow her to slash the
chanteuse's
beautiful face to pieces.

The Lebel skidded into the mud. ‘You
fools
!' seethed Charles Audit. ‘Must my brother have everything?'

‘Your brother, ah yes,' said St-Cyr. ‘Where is he?'

‘With me,' confessed Otto Brandl, warily enjoying the moment. ‘So you see, Henri, I still hold more cards than you.'

‘Then have him brought inside,' said St-Cyr, ignoring the Schmeisser. He shouted for the carousel to be stopped, and the animals in their terrified race began at once to coast slowly into submission, going up and down. The turtle, the panda, the black stallion in the fourth row, ah yes.

He strode firmly over to Pierre Bonny and pushed the gun away from Gabrielle, but found that her lovely eyes would not leave him. ‘Please, it will be okay, eh? This bunch, they are nothing, Gabrielle. Some day France will be free of them. Then you and I –'

‘Will be dead.'

Must she say it so accusingly? Turning his back on them, he went over to the carousel to set matches, pipe and tobacco pouch on the very edge nearest the cage. ‘So, my friends, what really went on in that room at the Hotel of the Silent Life?'

Antoine Audit was thrust forward by two of Brandl's men and left to stand alone under the lights.

‘You, monsieur, could answer for me, eh? The granddaughter of your brother Charles, a virgin until after the moment of her death.'

‘A virgin …?' snorted Lafont, swinging the Schmeisser in an arc.

‘Ah yes. Oh for sure there were the trappings of a liaison, and she did take off her clothes on several occasions but …'

‘But we did not have sexual congress,' said Antoine Audit. ‘Christabelle refused me, Charles. Always she refused.'

‘You
bastard
! You killed her! Me, I will –'

‘
Silence
! Speak only when told to.'

Kohler was impressed. Never had he seen Louis quite like this. In spite of everything, the Frog commanded respect. Even from gangsters.

Louis lit the pipe but did not take his eyes from Antoine Audit. ‘She reminded you of Michèle-Louis Prévost, monsieur.'

‘That proves nothing.
Nothing
! All … all right, she … she was the reincarnation of Michèle-Louise, so what?'

‘You had seen her naked in the drawing studios.'

‘Yes … yes, I had seen her that way enough times to wet the appetite. Is that a crime?'

‘
Viper! Cannibal
! You stole her from me just as you
stole
Michèle-Louise!'

‘Charles … Charles, for the love of Jesus, don't say anything.'

‘Réjean, she's gone. Gone! My little bird. He … That one, my
brother
!'

‘Your brother wanted everything, Monsieur Charles. He took Michèle-Louise, took the few gold coins you had started collecting, took the shop, the villa and left you on the broken rocks of the Île du Diable for fifteen years.'

‘She deceived you, Charles!' shouted Antoine Audit. ‘Ah, yes, my brother, Michèle-Louise came willingly into my arms.'

‘Revenge,' said St-Cyr quietly. ‘It was all a matter of revenge, eh, Monsieur Charles? Christabelle was only too well aware of the hatred you and your brother bore each other. Doubtless she adored and trusted you implicitly, and though very brave, made a very foolish mistake.'

‘The coins were forgeries!' seethed Lafont. ‘
Nom de Jésus-Christ
, Pierre, let's
finish
the bastards and get it over with!'

‘And end up in disgrace? Is that what you wish the avenue Foch to think, Monsieur Henri?'

‘Then get on with it,' snarled Pierre Bonny.

Otto Brandl had kept himself watchful and a little isolated from the others.

‘It was all a set-up, Louis,' breathed Hermann. ‘The girl was a partner to it with Charles and Réjean. On their okay, she held out the offer of her body to Antoine Audit while behind his back she was arranging the sale of forgeries her grandmother had made years and years ago from the original coins in Charles Audit's collection.'

‘Ah, yes, Hermann. First Christabelle shows Corporal Schraum a real coin, one that her grandfather has provided – Roman and perfect. Schraum is not unintelligent. Though he asks to see her papers, he knows enough not to arrest her.'

‘The coins would simply have vanished,' said Hermann, taking three small steps no one else noticed.

St-Cyr continued. ‘Early in September, the girl agrees to part with this one coin and it travels down the pipeline to Stralsund and the uncle of Corporal Schraum.

‘Who judges it in excellent condition and forwards it on to the Reichsmarschall Goering, Louis.'

‘Goering then orders the uncle to tell Schraum to proceed carefully.'

‘Four hundred and eighty-seven coins!' shrilled Henri Lafont. ‘Where are they?'

Louis was quick with a silencing hand. ‘They meet again, but now Schraum and Victor Morande
and
Rolande Minou know exactly who she is, where she lives and who she meets in that room. The successful industrialist, eh, Monsieur Antoine? Your wealth and the tantalizing possibilities of hidden valuables.'

‘And so do the rue Lauriston and the Bureau Otto,' breathed Kohler. A few more steps, just a few … ‘And a fledgling cell of Resistance hotheads.'

St-Cyr gave his pipe a sudden lift. ‘So, the fix is in. The thirty coins are produced – a representative sample that the girl and her co-conspirators know to be false. The sum of 31,250 old francs changes hands, but retribution will be swift once the truth is out. Antoine Audit will be blamed as the perpetrator of the fraud.'

‘Revenge?' snorted Pierre Bonny.

‘But of course. Please do not forget that on the Defeat of France the coins had been reported stolen. They had been hidden in the cellars of the Villa Audit by your brother, is that not right, Monsieur Charles? But you stole them back and took them away in two suitcases.'

‘Two suitcases? What is this?' demanded Henri Lafont.

‘In a moment, please. Antoine Audit, realizing what was planned, confronted the girl on that Tuesday afternoon at four o'clock. You demanded the return of the coins, eh, Monsieur Antoine? In great distress, Christabelle agreed to meet you on Thursday evening at the regular time.'

‘But by then Victor Morande had been murdered,' said Hermann. ‘The girl was then strangled on that Thursday evening and raped, and Corporal Schraum shot to death in the street but a short time later.'

‘The coins, I want the coins,' said Henri Lafont.

‘Then I will take the emeralds,' said Otto Brandl.

It was the
chanteuse
who anxiously said, ‘Jean-Louis, please tell them where they are.'

Again St-Cyr was forced to look into her eyes and then into those of Hermann's little pigeon.

‘The hostages, Jean-Louis. Remember?' beseeched the
chanteuse.
‘For France,
mon amour.
For France.'

Ah Mon Dieu, she was so very tragic in beauty.

‘Two suitcases, Louis,' prompted Hermann.

‘Yes, yes, my old one. Heavy because in addition to the gold coins they contained the iron dies Michèle-Louise Prévost had made some time prior to the year 1905. Also the copies she had cast of some of the original coins. Is that not correct, Monsieur Charles?'

It was.

St-Cyr held up a hand to silence the gangsters. ‘It is uncertain in my mind, Monsieur Charles, if at this time you had fully worked out what you intended to do to your brother. I rather doubt this, but the germ of the idea must have taken root.'

‘Two suitcases, two and a half years ago? Who gives a damn?' snarled Lafont.

‘I DO! As does my partner.'

‘There was another killing, Louis. That of Mila Zavitz.'

‘Yes, yes, Hermann. The Wehrmacht were to be blamed for that, but …' he paused, ‘it was not done by them, was it Monsieur Charles?'

Everyone looked at the ex-convict whose wrists were still handcuffed to those of his friend and to the brass upright upon which an ostrich rode.

‘I know nothing of that killing.
Nothing
! Ask Father Eugène.'

‘The old priest.' St-Cyr glanced at his watch. Hermann had moved again and was now much, much closer to the entrance.

‘Father, it is good of you to have come so promptly.'

Pierre Bonny jerked his head round. Lafont swung the Schmeisser as Hermann leapt to snatch the Lebel from the Captain Dupuis of the one leg and the crutches.

‘DROP IT!' screamed Lafont.

Ah
merde!

The gun skidded into the mud. The razor was held against Gabrielle's cheek. No one dared to move.

‘My son, what is this?' asked Father Eugène looking quickly round while still holding the Luger that had killed Corporal Schraum.

‘The suitcases, Father. They contained a fabulous collection of Roman gold coins, a bag or two of forged ones, and some iron dies.'

Suddenly lost to them all, Father Eugène studied the gun in his hand, then looked up and across to the carousel.

‘Father, gold is gold, and lies are lies,' said St-Cyr. ‘On the evening of the Defeat you saw Monsieur Charles leave the suitcases in the courtyard beside the draper's shop on the Pas-Léon. You did not say where he was headed or why he had left them there.'

‘Suitcases … suitcases,' seethed Henri Lafont.

‘
Silence
, you punk! Please do
not
interrupt two officers of the law in their duty.'

The old priest was shaken, but not so much by the outburst. ‘Charles went into the church. When … when I caught up with him, he asked me to hide the suitcases temporarily for him.'