Hot Salmon Canapes
Dip thin slices of white bread in milk, place smoked salmon slices of the same size already soaked in milk between them. Sprinkle the top slices with grated cheese and little dabs of butter and bake on a greased baking sheet in the oven.
Loin Fillets with Mushrooms
The fillets are quickly fried on both sides in hot fat, placed on a dish and kept hot. The following mushroom garnish is served with this course: One onion, sliced, is braised in butter and a cup of white wine is added and brought to a boil: three yolks, lightly beaten with one tablespoonful of butter, the juice of half a lemon and salt and pepper are stirred into it; more wine is added and the mixture is whisked over steam until thick. The mushrooms are braised separately, with chopped shallots, in butter and half a cup of white wine. Meanwhile a
roux is prepared from one tablespoonful of butter, one of flour and two cups stock. The mushrooms and sauce are then added and the whole mixture is brought to a boil again.
Coupe Jacques
One portion of vanilla ice cream is covered with whipped cream. On top of it is placed a fruit salad (fresh or tinned) which has already been soaked for half an hour in maraschino. On top of the fruit salad a portion of strawberry ice is laid, covered with whipped cream and decorated with crystallized cherries.
Colonel Jules Simeon proved to be an agreeable gentleman. With his neatly groomed mustache, Roman nose and shrewdly ironical eyes, he recalled the actor Adolphe Menjou, though the colonel was rather taller. He greeted Thomas with great respect and Mimi as an old friend—an attitude which caused our hero some uneasiness.
Simeon's dark blue suit had undoubtedly been made by a first-class tailor. But it was already a bit shiny at the elbows and on the back. The colonel wore a gold tie pin, set with a pearl, and small gold cufflinks. But the heels of his shoes • needed repairing.
Over the soup and canapes the talk was of Paris. Over the loin fillets Colonel Simeon became more confidential. "M. Lieven, I must apologize, not only for disturbing you in the middle of the night, but over a meal too. Beautifully crisp, these pommes frites, don't you think so? I had an order from a highly placed authority. We've been looking for you all day."
Thomas suddenly thought he could hear in the distance the voice of Jean-Louis Barrault, who had been playing in Shakespeare's Richard 111 that evening. A few lines rang vaguely in his ears. But he couldn't quite catch their sense.
"Really," he said. "Yes, the pommes frites are excellent, Colonel. They know the secret at this place. It's dipping them twice in the oil, you know. Nothing like French cooking ..."
Thomas laid a hand on Mimi's arm. The colonel smiled. I'm getting more and more fond of this colonel, thought Thomas.
The colonel said: "But it wasn't only for French cooking that you came to Paris. We too have our people in Cologne and London. We know all about your dealings with the worthy Major Loos. Is he as liverish as ever, I wonder ..."
Thomas again fancied he could hear the voice of Jean-Louis Barrault. Again the lines of the immortal dramatist echoed in his head. But he still could not make out their meaning.
And why was Mimi smiling so very sweetly?
"M. Lieven," said the colonel. "I really do sympathize with you. You love France. You love its cookery. But I have my orders. I shall have to deport you, M. Lieven. You are too dangerous for my poor, threatened country. We shall be taking you to the frontier this very night. And you must never return to France again . . ."
Thomas burst out laughing.
Mimi glanced at him. And for the first time since he had known her she did not immediately join in his laughter. Thereupon he too stopped laughing.
". .. unless," the colonel was saying, as he helped himself generously to more mushrooms, "unless, M. Lieven, you make a right about turn and work for us, for the Deuxieme Bureau."
Thomas sat up straight. I'm not quite so drunk as that yet, he thought. He said quietly: "Are you offering me work in the French secret service in the presence of Mile. Chambert?"
"But why shouldn't he, cheri?" Mimi asked affectionately, giving Thomas a kiss on the cheek. "After all, I'm in the combine too."
"You're ..." Thomas choked.
"Oh, only in a small way. But I'm in it. I earn a little on the side from the job. Are you cross?"
"Mile. Chambert is the most delightful patriot I know," the colonel declared.
Suddenly the voice which had been worrying Thomas Lieven for so long, the voice of the actor Jean-Louis Barrault, came clearly to his ears. Now Thomas understood at last the meaning of the words spoken by King Richard III.
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover to entertain these fair, well spoken days, I am determined to prove a villain—
"M. Lieven," the colonel demanded, a glass of red wine in his hand. "Are you prepared to work for us?"
Thomas looked pensively at the sweet-natured, affectionate Mimi, at the colonel, that man of breeding, and at the well-stocked table.
46
So there's nothing else I can do, thought Thomas Lieven. I've got this world all wrong. I'll have to change my mode of life and pretty quick too if I don't want to go under in this flood of folly.
Mimi's voice sounded at his ear. "Cheri, do be nice and join us. We'll have such a wonderful time!"
The colonel's voice sounded at his other ear. "Monsieur, have you made up your mind?"
The voice of the actor Jean-Louis Barrault rumbled. "I am determined to prove a villain . . ."
"I am determined," Thomas Lieven murmured.
[6]
First it was German Intelligence. Then it was the British secret service. Now it was the Deuxieme Bureau. And all within ninety-six hours. Only days ago, thought Thomas, I was still living in London as a respected citizen and a successful private banker. Who would ever take my work for it? Who would ever believe my story at the club?
Thomas Lieven ran his lean, delicately formed fingers through his close-cropped black hair and said: "My situation looks hopeless but not serious. I am seated, pleasantly satiated, on the ruins of my existence as a plain citizen. This is a historic moment. Emile!" The old headwaiter hurried forward. "We have grounds for a celebration. Champagne, please!"
Mimi kissed him tenderly. "Isn't he sweet?" she asked the colonel.
"Monsieur, I deeply appreciate your attitude," said Simeon. "I am delighted to hear you say you are ready to work for us."
"I don't say I am ready to do so. I simply have no choice."
"Comes to the same thing."
"Of course, you can only count on me so long as my lawsuit lasts. As soon as I have won my case I intend to live in London again. Is that clear?"
"Quite clear, monsieur," said Colonel Simeon. He smiled as though he were a clairvoyant and already knew that Thomas Lieven would still not have won his case even after another world war and that he would never live in London again.
"For the rest," said Thomas, "I haven't the slightest idea in what way I could be useful to you."
"You're a banker."
"So what?"
Simeon winked. "The lady has told me how capable you are."
"But Mimi," said Thomas to the little actress with the glossy black hair and merry eyes. "That was very indiscreet of you."
"She did it out of patriotism. She's such a charmer!" "I should think you were in a good position to know that, Colonel!"
Mimi and Simeon both spoke at once. "I give you my word of honor as an officer ..." "But cheri, that was long before your time, you know."
Then they both stopped speaking and laughed. Mimi snuggled up to Thomas. She was really in love with this man, who could appear to be so serious and yet be no such thing, who looked like the prototype of every English gentleman and banker and was at the same time more lovable and brainy than any of the gentlemen Mimi knew. And she knew quite a crowd.
"Long before my time," said Thomas Lieven. "Aha. I see. Right. . . well, Colonel, do I understand from you then that I must consider myself fi
nancial adviser to the French secret service?"
"Exactly, monsieur. You will be entrusted with special duties."
"Allow me," said Thomas, "before the champagne comes, to put in a few rapid remarks of an entirely honest nature. In spite of my relative youth I've already acquired certain moral principles. If you should ever find them imcompatible with my new duties I would ask you to be so good as to resort to the alternative of deportation."
"Well, monsieur, and what are these principles of yours?" "I decline to wear uniform, Colonel. You may find it incomprehensible, but I am not in the habit of shooting human beings. Nor will I ever consent to terrorize, arrest or torture anyone."
"But my dear sir, we think far too highly of you to employ you in such trifles."
"I shall also refuse to injure or rob anyone, except within the recognized sphere of my profession. But even then I would only do so after being convinced that the victim had deserved such treatment."
"Monsieur, have no fear. You will be able to remain true to your principles. It's only your brains we have in view." Emile arrived with the champagne.
After they had each taken a sip the colonel said: "I must insist however on your attending a training course for secret agents. That is necessary under our regulations. You will be taught many ingenious tricks you don't know anything about yet. I'll take care to see that you are transferred as soon as possible to one of our special camps."
"But not tonight, Jules, please," said Mimi, stroking Thomas Lieven's hand affectionately. "Tonight he's already learned enough...."
On the early morning of May 30, 1939, two gentlemen called for Thomas Lieven at his girl friend's flat. The gentlemen wore cheap ready-made suits and baggy trousers. They were underpaid subordinate agents.
Thomas wore a single-breasted pepper-and-salt suit (black on gray) with a white shirt, a black tie, a black hat, black shoes and of course his beloved repeater. He carried a small suitcase.
The gentlemen, with serious expressions, packed Thomas into a truck. He found, on trying to look out, that the blinds drawn over the windows had been tightly clamped down so as to exclude all light.
After five hours every bone in his body ached. When the truck at last pulled up and the gentlemen permitted him to alight, Thomas found himself in extraordinarily depressing surroundings. High barbed-wire fencing enclosed a stony tract of hilly country. In the background Thomas perceived a gray building of dilapidated aspect with a gloomy little wood behind it. A heavily armed guard stood at the entrance to the building.
The two shabbily dressed gentlemen went over to the stern-faced sentry and produced a mass of credentials for his inspection. He studied the papers with deep attention.
Meanwhile an old peasant driving a little cart loaded with timber came past.
"Got a long way to go still, grandpa?" Thomas asked.
"Yes, damn it, a good two miles yet to St. Nicolas."
'Where's that, then?"
"Why, down there of course. Just before you gtt to Nancy."
"Aha," said Thomas Lieven.
His two companions returned. One of them explained: "We must apologize for having locked you up in that truck. We had strict orders to do it, as otherwise you might have found
out where you are. And it's absolutely essential for you not to know that."
"Aha," said Thomas.
The old building was furnished like a third-class hotel. A bit on the squalid side, thought Thomas Lieven. The people who run it don't seem to have much money. Let's hope there aren't any bugs. One certainly gets into queer situations.
The new .course was attended by twenty-seven other agents besides Thomas. They were mostly French. But there were also two Austrians, five Germans, a Pole and a Japanese.
The trainer* in charge was a lean, pale fellow with an unhealthy complexion, every bit as secretive and depressed-looking, overbearing and nervous, as his German colleague, Major Loos, whom Thomas had met at Cologne.
"Gentlemen," said this being to the assembled agents, "I am Jupiter. For the duration of the course every one of you will adopt a false name. You have half an hour to think out a suitable imaginary career to go with it. From now on you will have to stick to the identity thus assumed under all circumstances. I and my colleagues will do everything in our power to prove to you that you are not the persons you pretend to be. So you must try to invent a personality which you can maintain against all our attempts to discredit it."
Thomas decided to adopt the prosaic name of Adolf Meier. He was not in the habit of indulging his fancy in pointless enterprises.
In the afternoon he received a suit of gray overalls, with his false name stitched on the front. The other trainees were issued similar clothing.
The food was bad. The room assigned to Thomas was hideous and the bedding scanty. Before going to sleep our friend ruefully made his beloved repeater strike the hour again and again. Thereupon he closed his eyes and tried to imagine he was lying in his comfortable bed in London. At three o'clock in the morning he was roused from sleep by a coarse yelling in his ear.
"Lieven! Lieven! How many more times? Answer me, Lieven!"
Thomas sat up, sweating, and groaned "Here!"
The next moment he felt a couple of resounding boxes on the ear. Jupiter was standing by his bed, grinning fiendishly and saying: "I thought your name was Meier, Herr Lieven. If you'd behaved like that on active service you'd have been a dead man. Good night. Have a good sleep now."
Thomas didn't have a good sleep. He kept thinking how he could evade any further boxes on the ear. He soon discovered the method. During the following nights Jupiter could yell as brutally as he liked. Thomas always woke up slowly, pulled himself together and then at once insisted upon his false iden-tit]'. "What are you shouting at me for? My name's Adolf Meier."
Jupiter was delighted. "Fantastic self-control, eh?"
He didn't know that all Thomas had done was to put a sufficient amount of cotton wool in his ears.
The trainees learned all about drugs, explosives, tommy-guns and revolvers. Thomas found to his astonishment that eight out of the ten shots he fired scored bull's-eyes. He murmured in amazement: "Pure chance. I don't know anything about shooting."
Jupiter chuckled. "No, Meier? Why, man, you've got a natural talent for it!"
Of the next ten shots nine, actually, scored bulls. Thomas was quite shocked. "What puzzling creatures human beings are," he muttered.
That night he couldn't sleep for thinking of it. What's wrong with me, he thought. Anyone so abruptly switched from his normal routine as myself ought really to be in despair, take to the bottle, curse God and commit suicide. But, good heavens, I'm neither desperate, nor drunken, nor demoralized, nor blasphemous, nor planning to kill myself!
Far from it.
To myself I can confess the frightful truth. The whole thing's beginning to amuse me. I'm finding it great fun. I'm still young. Fve no family ties. Who ever had such a crazy experience?
I'm in the French secret service. That means I'm working against my own country, against Germany. But just a minute. Is it against Germany or against the Gestapo?
Well, then.
But I simply can't understand how it is I can shoot. I can see of course why I find it all more amusing than shocking. It's because so far I've been engaged in such a serious profession. There I had to keep up a permanent pretense. But apparently my present position is much more congenial to my true nature. The devil! A nice sort of character I must have!
He learned Morse signaling. He learned to write in code and decipher codes. For the latter purpose Jupiter distributed tattered copies of The Count of Monte Cristo.
He explained: "The system is simplicity itself. On active service you'll keep a book like this handy. Suppose you receive a message in code that begins with three figures that afterward continually change. The first figure indicates the page of the novel you are to use, the second figure indicates the line on that page and the third number is that of the letter in t
he line, which is your starting point. Then you can begin calculating, according to the other code numbers in the message, what the rest of the letters must be ..."
He distributed slips of paper which contained messages in code.
Half the class deciphered them correctly. The other half, including Thomas Lieven, failed to do so. His efforts to achieve a text in clear read as follows: "Twmxdtrrre illd m ionteff . . ."
"Try again," said Jupiter.
They all tried it again, with the same fifty-fifty result.
"Well, we'll just have to go on all night," said Jupiter.
They went on all night.
By dawn it had been discovered that two different editions of the novel had inadvertently been distributed to the pupils, viz., the second and the fourth. The editions differed because certain cuts had been made in the fourth. The cuts had entailed a slight disarrangement of the pages.
"Of course," said Jupiter, pale, but determined as ever, "that couldn't possibly happen on active service."
"Of course not," said Thomas Lieven.
[7]
Then Jupiter organized a big celebration at which a very great deal of liquor was provided. One of the trainees, a lad named H'anschen Nolle, with burning eyes, long eyelashes and a complexion like a mixture of milk and blood, got excessively drunk. Next day he was dismissed from the course. The only Englishman and one of the Austrians went with him. During the night it had been discovered that they did not deserve to be secret agents
In the fourth week the class was taken to a dreary wood. They stayed there for eight days with their teacher.
They slept on the bare ground, were exposed to all the rigors of the weather and learned, when their provisions ran out at the end of three days, as had been planned, to feed on berries, bark, leaves and disgusting little animals. Thomas Lieven did not learn this last lesson, for he had foreseen some-
The Monte Cristo Cover-Up Page 5
