Beekeeper (40 page)

Read Beekeeper Online

Authors: J. Robert Janes

‘At the country house …'

‘That is just what I said. Really, Inspector, you can't have expected me to have told Juliette? Surely not.'

‘And have you paid this waiter the final fifty thousand francs?'

‘As agreed. I did so as soon as I received the boy's letter. It was written on the fourth of this month and arrived on the sixth – the mail these days is simply not what it used to be. I went to the restaurant on the seventh.'

‘Might I see the letter?'

‘It's there beside the rose my son gave me when he was called away to Berlin.'

‘As a diplomat?'

‘Thirteenth September 1938. A road accident. There was heavy rain and fog. The other car was totally demolished. Three people … The police claimed they were driving too fast and that my son was in the right, but …' She shrugged. ‘These things are never clear when they happen in such places and at such times, are they?'

A nod would be best, since the son could well have been on sensitive business and murdered by the Nazis. The letter seemed genuine enough but, still, he'd best ask, ‘Have you ever had any other letters from Étienne de Bonnevies?'

‘The signature matches that on his sketches, Inspector, and I am satisfied as best I can be.'

‘Good. Madame, you stated that the boy would pay you a—'

‘Inspector, I thought I had made myself clear. He's very talented and most of what you have seen of this house, and whatever else I possess, will soon be his. I have no other heir to whom I would wish to leave my estate.'

‘But he doesn't look at naked girls in the way your son looked at Juliette de Goncourt?'

A slight tremor caused her to put her cigarette down, though she said nothing, which was to her credit, since she was trying to protect the boy and still uncertain of this Sûreté.

‘Madame, my partner and I are of the law, but believe it should be tempered with reason and compassion wherever possible. Homosexuality is deemed illegal these days, and both our Government in Vichy and the Occupier wish vehemently to stamp it out. As a result, such men, and women, are imprisoned and sent into hard labour in the Reich, or shot.'

‘Or beaten to death, but you and your partner are open to reason. Is it not dangerous for you to admit such a thing?'

‘Yes.'

‘Then understand that this is why I have insisted the boy stay out of Paris and away from that stepfather of his who will, I greatly fear if aware of his true nature, do everything in his power to have him arrested. Please prevent it from happening.'

‘Do you know Alexandre de Bonnevies?'

‘I know of him, Inspector. I've always known. A woman in my position has to, though these days I am not so able to find things out as quickly as I would wish.'

‘And the daughter, Danielle?'

‘When I decided to purchase my grandson's freedom, I had the girl brought here and told her. I wanted to be absolutely certain no harm came to him, and was fully satisfied by her responses and manner. She struck me as being a very intelligent, very capable young woman who loved my grandson dearly. She explained his need to use her as a model, since he had so little money and could not hire another, and while I did not agree, I understood perfectly the sincerity of her reasoning. He is extremely talented, and she wanted only to help him.'

A match was struck, hands were cupped, and out of the night, the left side of Kohler's face appeared briefly as he lit a cigarette. Then the match went out and there was only that tiny glow as he leaned on his crutches and secretly shared the cigarette with the sentry. Their voices were muffled. Maybe they'd be talking of home, thought Käthe. Maybe Kohler would joke about a little, but as sure as she was sitting here watching him, she knew he had deliberately left the four of them alone in the car.

Again the image of that scar came to her. Kohler had defied the SS in his and St-Cyr's holier-than-thou pursuit of the guilty and they had savagely struck him with a rawhide whip some months ago. Ever since then, both men had been distrusted and reviled by many in the SS and Gestapo, and the Höherer SS und Polizeiführer Oberg would be fully cognizant of this and wouldn't want the Palais d'Eiffel to be closed and a scandal to erupt.

Oskar was worth too much to him, and to others in high places, but also knew too much and would be a decided embarrassment should things go wrong. Oberg had been very clear on this. Settle things or else. Get de Bonnevies out of the way. Never had she seen Oskar in such a state. ‘Juliette will open the door of the house and ask you in when you tell her I've sent a message. She won't suspect a thing.'

Oil of mirbane. It would be on a shelf in the study. The bottle of Amaretto had been on the desk …

Glancing up into the rearview mirror, she tried to meet the gaze Juliette must give, but there was only darkness. I know she's watching me, said Käthe silently. Oskar had been so tired of Uma and had wanted his little bit of fun, and it had been exciting – lots and lots of laughs and sex; sex like she'd never experienced before, but now … Would Kohler and his partner really try to smooth things over and hide the truth?

Juliette had pulled off a glove. Her fingertips were cold when Käthe felt them touch the nape of her neck. ‘A cigarette?' asked the woman. ‘Could I have one, please?'

I know you speak and understand French. How else could Oskar have managed when he first came to the city?

‘Of course. Here … here, let me light it for you.'

The lighter was flicked twice, the flame lit up the front seat of the car, but then … then the light went out so quickly, thought Juliette, and said diffidently, ‘
Merci
,' as she took the proffered cigarette and put it between her lips. Lips that have kissed yours, Frau Hillebrand? she silently asked. I was blindfolded, wasn't I, each time you came into Room 4-18 at the Hotel Titania to find me naked and with my hands tied behind my back? Was it you who insisted on the blindfold? You would always say a few words in French to calm me, but I sensed you were afraid if you said more I might be able to recognize you. You trembled, you were so anxious sometimes. Later the smell of the Javel would always be on my fingertips, and you, Frau Hillebrand, are a part of the reason for this. Of course I wanted that husband of mine dead. Of course I lied when questioned by St-Cyr. When one has so much to hide, what are a few more things?

Oskar knew where the oil of mirbane was kept, Käthe, because I had told him when asked. And getting the keys to the study and to the gates presented little difficulty. There was beeswax on my front-door key one time. Was it wax from when an impression had been made? With that key, it was then possible for someone to enter the house, but will the detectives believe this if I tell them?

Alexandre usually left his keys on the bureau in his bedroom when he hung up his suit, Käthe. He slept soundly for a man of such cruelty and was so arrogant he never believed for a moment anyone would dare to enter his room at night.

Danielle, when away, would leave her keys behind and when at home would set them on her night-table before bed. Danielle whose breath came uneasily in a sleep that was often troubled. She fears the worst, poor thing, and has run for her life, but can't run to Étienne who would surely have come home if he could have to instantly free me from my agony.

Étienne who is so sensitive a creature, an
original
in his own right, but never one like Alexandre.

Étienne who is locked up with hundreds and hundreds of lonely men, Käthe, most of whom will only abuse him terribly.

‘Father, I did what I had to do,' she said and offered to share the cigarette, an offer that wasn't refused, for he answered softly, ‘My child, God hears and understands.'

‘But will He forgive me?'

‘Yes. Yes, of course, as He forgives all who truly repent and accept His love.'

‘Then will He forgive my son for being the way he is?'

‘And what way is that?'

‘You know, so please don't ask me to say it.'

‘Then yes. Yes, He will. My child, did you manage the boy's release? Danielle would not have run like that unless she believed Étienne had come home and had killed Alexandre.'

‘Father, Madame de Trouvelot adamantly refused to help me. Étienne will not have come home.'

‘That boy poisoned Alexandre, didn't he?' snapped Honoré de Saussine. ‘While we're all being held for something we didn't do, he runs free and that sister of his runs after him!'

‘You were offered money,' countered Juliette swiftly. ‘Oskar must have had a set of keys made to the house and study,
mon ami.
Please don't forget that when the opportunity arises I will definitely inform the detectives of this!'

‘
Salope
!' swore de Saussine. ‘
Putain
!'

Kohler yanked open the rear door and leaned into the car to confront him. ‘Our beekeeper was one hell of a problem, wasn't he,
mon fin
? He'd have let you have your day in court and willingly would have seen you thrown out of that Society and shut down hard.'

‘
I
didn't do it
!' shrilled de Saussine. ‘I didn't need to because Herr Schlacht had arranged for …' Ah
merde
, had he walked himself to the widow-maker? he wondered, sickened by the thought. ‘I … I shouldn't have said that. I … I spoke in haste.'

‘Had arranged for whom, exactly, to do the job, eh? Frau Hillebrand?'

‘
I
didn't
!' cried Käthe. I
couldn't
! I … I went there, yes, to the house in the afternoon but … but didn't even ring the front bell!'

‘We'll see then, won't we, but it's good of you to have let us know you were there on the day he died. Now which of you knows anything about
Helleborus niger
, the Christmas rose?'

‘The leaves, the stems and roots are poisonous,' said Father Michel. ‘But why, please, do you wish me to say this?'

They listened, Juliette swallowing hard but saying nothing. ‘Violent inflammation of the skin where the plant has touched it. Vomiting and purging that can't be stopped – the bowels ache to pass waste and constrict but can't void a thing because you're totally empty. Severe abdominal cramps and numbness – one of its ingredients, helleborin, is a narcotic; another, helleborein, is a cardiac poison. There is copious sweating – you constantly drool, but can't figure out what the hell is happening to you. Your heartbeat is very rapid but so faint you can hardly feel it. Consciousness remains until about ten minutes before death, but you drift into and out of it until, at last, the nerve centres that control the heart finally become paralysed. Your daughter, madame, intends to kill herself.'

The driver's side door was yanked open. Breathlessly Louis crammed himself behind the steering wheel and jammed the key into the ignition. The tyres screeched. He made a sharp U-turn on the boulevard Maillot and they shot eastwards towards Charonne. There were a few bicycles and bicycle-taxis, a
gazogene
lorry … Tiny blue-blinkered red brake lights, a pedestrian crossing, a traffic cop …

The horn was leaned on and they were through.

‘The grandmother paid up, Hermann. Étienne de Bonnevies has come home and Danielle will try to reach him before we do or the SS take her. There's also a gun, the service revolver belonging to Captain Henri-Alphonse Vallée, madame. A Lebel
Modèle d'ordonnance.
'

A gun … Ah
Scheisse!
‘The black-powder cartridges, Louis?'

They might be damp because of their age. ‘Perhaps, since Vallése is definitely of the old school, but if not the 1873, Hermann, then the 1892 and the 8mm smokeless. Madame, where is it hidden?'

‘I … I don't know. How could I? Alexandre …'

‘Come, come, madame, we've no time to lose. Please understand that if the SS or anyone else should arrest your daughter and find that on her, there will be nothing my partner and I can do to save her.'

9

At 8:10 they gathered in the kitchen of the beekeeper's house. The gun was gone; the girl was gone. Louis held the oilcloth the Lebel had been wrapped in while hidden under the floorboards of the honey-house.

A broken-open packet of 11mm cartridges revealed that a handful had been hastily pocketed. The suit, stockings, sweater, blouse and shoes the girl had worn to the meeting had lain in a crumpled heap on the floor of her bedroom. She had dressed warmly in her khaki trousers, and no doubt a flannel shirt, two sweaters, woollen knee-socks and hiking boots, and had taken her rucksack, with what food, matches, blankets and money she could grab.

The Terrot bicycle was also absent.

‘An hour's start, at most, Hermann, but it's a good fifty kilometres to Soisy-sur-Seine. The road follows the river for some distance to Villeneuve-Saint Georges, then moves inland and doesn't return to it until south of Draveil. There are short cuts she will know of and use. The Forêt de Sénart also presents a problem, since it will offer easy retreat should she and her half-brother feel it necessary.'

An hour in this weather … Ten kilometres, fifteen at the most since she was used to winter cycling, thought Kohler. ‘But the snow … Louis, she might have to ditch the bike. If so, we'll never find her.'

‘Inspectors, sometimes I would find the two of them at a hunters' hide near the Carrefour du Chêne-Prieur. My husband always thought the worst; I knew the truth but could not bring myself to tell him for fear of his hurting the boy.'

The Crossroads of the Prior's Oak … ‘Your son must havecome into the city, and finding that bottle, added the poison, madame,' said Kohler. ‘Look, I'm sorry, but that's how it appears.'

‘And Danielle, who loves him dearly and understands him totally, has finally realized this and is trying to save him – is this what you mean?'

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