The Monte Cristo Cover-Up

by Johannes Mario Simmel

  "Then I shall have to wait for him. It may be some time before he turns up. He's in an extremely dangerous position."

  Thomas thought, and he'll be in a still worse one when he does turn up. For he's not going to keep it. I'll see to that. I intend to stop things getting any worse and more blood being shed — They ought to -have let me alone, the lot of them. But

  now it's too late. I'm in the game too. But I'm going to play it my way.

  He said to Jeanne: "Madame, as you know, Toulouse is chock-a-block. Couldn't you possibly let us two rooms?"

  Mimi jumped "Here?"

  "It's the only chance I can see, my dear ..." Thomas gave Jeanne a winning smile. "Do please be so good, madame!"

  "Well, really I only let rooms by the hour ..."

  "Madame, might I be permitted to give your heart the discreetest possible patriotic nudge?"

  Jeanne's eyes softened dreamily. "A charming tenant," she murmured. "Well, all right then."

  [4]

  Major Debras kept them waiting. One week went by, then two. He still hadn't arrived. Well, thought Thomas, alias Jean, it would suit me splendidly if he never arrived at all.

  He began to make himself at home "Chez Jeanne." Whenever he had time he went to look for his attractive landlady with the lion-colored hair.

  "My cook's bolted, Jean," she complained to her German tenant, whom she took for a dyed-in-the-wool Parisian and had begun on the second day of his stay to address him by his pleasant-sounding first name. "And provisions get shorter and shorter. If I could only make that restaurant of mine pay . . ."

  "Jeanne," replied Thomas who had himself begun on the second day of his stay to address his hostess by her pleasant-sounding first name, "let me make you an offer for our mutual benefit. Suppose I do the cooking and arrange for the supply of provisions and we go fifty-fifty on our earnings? How about that?"

  "Are you always so quick off the mark?"

  "Does that worry you?"

  "On the contrary, Jean, on the contrary. I can hardly wait to find out more about your hidden talents . . ."

  While Thomas busied himself with the attempt to get Jeanne's restaurant going again, Colonel Simeon again showed his aptitude for secret service work. After an absence of two days he proudly reported to Thomas and Mimi: "Neither of the mechanics would tell me anything. But I rummaged around in the garage and found all sorts of useful things. A key, a map and some directions. It seems that old Perrier had a secret petrol dump."

  "Good Lord! Where?"

  "In a wood near Villefranche de Largais, about thirty miles from here. The stuffs in a dugout. There are at least a hundred cans. I've just come from there."

  Mimi jumped up and gave Simeon a long, ostentatious kiss.

  That's her revenge for Jeanne, thought Thomas. "Congratulations, Colonel," he said appreciatively.

  "Ah, my dear friend," replied Simeon, assuming a modest and benign expression as soon as he could get his breath, "I'm only too glad that at last I've been able to do some useful work." And I only wish, thought Thomas, that all secret agents could show as much sense occasionally.

  So they went and fetched the petrol. Thomas laid up the black Chrysler in the garage and bought a little Peugeot with a few of his 27,730 dollars. Such a car would need less fuel.

  Thomas soon became a familiar figure on the rough country roads around Toulouse. All the farmers waved to him, grinning, and kept their own counsel. Some of them regularly received good prices for their produce from Thomas, while he supplied others with what they needed from the city.

  He thoroughly enjoyed himself baking, roasting and boiling. Jeanne helped him. It was hot in the kitchen. So far as clothes were concerned, Jeanne kept herself cool to the utmost limit of decency. The partnership was a happy one. She admired him and he admired her. Mimi went for long walks with Sim6on.

  The restaurant was soon packed every day. The customers were nearly all male refugees, coming from all the countries Hitler had hitherto taken over. Consequently, there had to be plenty of variety in Thomas Lieven's cooking. The refugees were delighted with it. They particularly appreciated, too, the very reasonable prices.

  The resident girls were even more delighted. The charming young cook fascinated them all with his elegance and audacity, his amiability and shrewdness. They found that he treated them all like real ladies, never becoming too intimate with any of them.

  Consequently, it was not long before he was acting as their father confessor, moneylender, adviser in legal and medical problems and unwearying listener whenever they revealed the innermost secrets of the feminine heart.

  Jeannette had a baby farmed out in the country. The peasants who were looking after the child made more and

  more shameless demands. Thomas persuaded them to be more reasonable.

  Sonia had a legacy due to her which a rascally lawyer was withholding. Thomas made him shell out.

  Bebe had a brute of a boy friend who was always having affairs with other women and knocking her about. By dropping discreet hints about certain police regulations and putting a painful judo hold on the fellow, Thomas forced him to behave decently.

  The man's name was Alphonse. He was destined to cause Thomas a very great deal of trouble in the future.

  Among the regular customers at the restaurant was a banker named Walter Lindner who had first left Vienna and then Paris in order to escape Hitler.

  Lindner had become separated from his wife during their flight and was now waiting for her to join him in Toulouse.

  Walter Lindner was much attracted by Thomas and on hearing that the latter was also a banker made him the following proposal. "Come with me to South America. As soon as my wife gets here I'm going over there. I've capital in that part of the world. You could be my partner . . ." He showed Thomas a recent passbook of the Rio de la Plata Bank crediting him with a balance figure of over a million dollars.

  At that moment it seemed to Thomas Lieven that in spite of all his recent experiences he could take courage and believe in human reason and a bright future.

  But he still wished to settle the matter of that black leather brief case as satisfactorily as possible. Neither German Intelligence nor the French secret service would get hold of those files if he could help it.

  Then nothing would stop him from saying good-bye to war-mad, corrupt old Europe and plunging into a new world, where he would again be a banker, a solid citizen and a civilian. He could hardly bear to wait for that glorious day.

  But his longing was never to be appeased. He was soon to be freed from his conscientious scruples about having worked for the French against the Germans. He would soon be working for the Germans against the French. And then again for the French. And against the British. And for the British. And for all three. And against all three. The madness had only just begun. That basically decent fellow Thomas Lieven, who loved peace and loathed violence, had no idea yet what was in store for him. ...

  June passed, and then July. By that time they had been

  nearly two months in Toulouse. One hot morning Simeon, Jeanne and Thomas held a little council of war.

  Simeon seemed rather excited. But Thomas did not remember that until later. Said the colonel: "We shall have to broaden our field of action, my friend. Madame has a new address for you." He bent over the map. "Look. It's about a hundred miles northwest of Toulouse, in the valley of the Dordogne, near Sarlat."

  "There's a little castle there," Jeanne explained. She was smoking nervously. But Thomas did not remember that either until later. "It overlooks the village of Castelnau-Fayrac. The name is Les Milandes. The residents are themselves farmers, with lots of pigs, cattle and all sorts of livestock —"

  Three hours later the little Peugeot was bumping over the dusty roads, further and further to the west. By the banks of the Dordogne the landscape grew romantic and the castle called Les Milandes also looked romantic. It was a tall white fifteenth-century building, with two big and two smaller watchtowers, commanding the whole
of the main road. The place was surrounded by an ancient park containing meadows and fields.

  Thomas stopped his car at the open entrance to the park and sounded his horn a few times. No one answered.

  He drove in onto a large graveled forecourt. A massive old oak door stood ajar. A flight of steps led up to the threshold.

  "Hallo, there!" shouted Thomas.

  Then he heard a shrill giggle, which gave him quite a shock. For the sound could not have been made by a human being.

  Next moment a tiny brown monkey darted through the chink in the doorway, hopped down the steps, still squealing eerily, and turned a somersault at Thomas Lieven's feet. Before he had recovered from his amazement the creature was already sitting on his left shoulder, giggling incessantly, and kissing his face.

  He heard a woman call out: "Glou-glou, Glou-glou! Where are you? What are you up to now?"

  The oak door opened. A dazzlingly beautiful, dark-skinned woman stood on the threshold. She wore tight-fitting white trousers and over them a loose white blouse. Golden bracelets tinkled on her slender wrists. Her perfectly smooth black hair was parted in the middle.

  Thomas caught his breath. He knew who she was and had adored her for years. But he couldn't utter a word. He had

  been prepared for anything, but not suddenly to see, in the midst of this crazy period of war and the ruin of France, an idol of the whole world, the faultless incarnation of exotic beauty, the famous Negro dancer, Josephine Baker.

  With a charmingly gentle smile she murmured: "Good morning, monsieur. I'm sorry you had such a noisy welcome. Glou-glou seems to like you."

  "Madame—you are—you have—you live here?" "As a tenant, yes. What can I do for you?" "My name is Jean Leblanc, I believe I originally came here to buy provisions ... But now that I have seen you, madame, I can't quite remember," said Thomas. He walked up the steps, the little monkey still on his shoulder, bowed deeply and kissed Josephine Baker's hand. "Anyhow, it doesn't matter in the least why I came. I am only happy to find myself in the presence of one of the greatest artists of our time." "You're very kind, M. Leblanc."

  "I have all your recordings. I have three copies of Tai deux amours. I have seen you on the stage I don't know how many times ..." He gazed at the "Black Venus" with deep admiration. He knew that she had been born at St. Louis in the United States and was the daughter of a Spanish businessman and a Negress. He knew that she had been desperately poor when she started her fabulous career and that she had achieved fame throughout the world after being rapturously received in Paris, where she had danced in ecstatic style, clad only in a wreath of banana leaves.

  "Are you from Paris by any chance, monsieur?" "Yes, as a refugee ..."

  "You must tell me all about it. I'm so fond of Paris. Is that your car at the gate?" "Yes."

  "You're alone?" "Certainly. Why do you ask?"

  "I only just wondered. Please come with me, M. Leblanc." The castle was full of antique furniture and pet animals. Apart from the little female monkey, Glou-glou, he made the acquaintance of the extremely dignified baboon, Mica, the tiny Gugusse, which moved like a flash of lightning and had a bristling mustache, an enormous Great Dane named Bonzo, a lazy python called Agathe, which lay coiled in front of the empty fireplace in the hall, Hannibal the parrot and two little mice, introduced to him by Josephine Baker as Miss Curl-pamper and Miss Question-mark.

  All these animals lived in the greatest harmony with one another. Bonzo lay on the carpet and allowed Miss Question-mark literally to dance about on his great muzzle. Mica and Hannibal played football with a screwed up piece of silver paper.

  "You've a happy world here," said Thomas.

  "Animals understand how to live together in peace," said Josephine Baker.

  "Unfortunately human beings don't."

  "But even they will one day," said the dancer. "But now do tell me about Paris."

  Thomas Lieven complied. He was so fascinated by this meeting that he lost all count of time. At last he glanced guiltily at his golden repeater. "Good heavens, it's six o'clock!"

  "I've so enjoyed this afternoon. Won't you stay a little longer and dine with me? I'm afraid there's not much in the house, as I wasn't expecting visitors. Even my maid is away . . ."

  Thomas beamed boyishly. "I should be only too pleased. But then you must let me do the cooking. One can prepare something appetizing even with very little."

  "That's right," Josephine said. "It can't always be caviar."

  In the big old-fashioned kitchen Thomas, in his shirt sleeves, worked with furious energy. Outside, the sun went down behind the range of hills beyond the river. The shadows lengthened. Evening came on.

  Josephine Baker watched Thomas with a smile. The highly seasoned eggs he was preparing interested her most.

  "My own invention, madame. I am going to call the dish Oeufs a la Josephine in your honor."

  "Isn't that nice of you! Well, I'll leave you now while I go and change. I shan't be long." She left the kitchen. Thomas, in high spirits, went on cooking. What a splendid woman, he thought.

  As soon as he had finished his work he washed his hands in the bathroom and went into the dining room. It was lit by two chandeliers which each held twelve candles. Josephine Baker was wearing a close-fitting green gown. Beside her stood a tall, powerfully built man in a dark suit. His features were bronzed and his close-cropped hair graying at the temples. His eyes and mouth made a favorable impression. Josephine Baker was holding his hand as she addressed Thomas. "Forgive me for surprising you, M. Leblanc. I have to be very careful, you

  know." She gave the man with the graying temples a loving glance. "Maurice, may I introduce a friend?"

  The man in the dark suit shook hands with Thomas. "I'm extraordinarily pleased to have met you at last, Thomas Lieven. I've already heard so much about you."

  Thomas stiffened at this unexpected mention of his real name. What an ass I am, he thought, walking straight into such an obvious trap.

  "Oh," cried Josephine Baker. "But how stupid of me! Of course, you haven't met Maurice yet. This is Maurice Debras, Herr Lieven. Major Debras of the Deuxieme Bureau."

  [5]

  Confound it all again, thought Thomas Lieven. Am I never to get out of this devil's circle? Good-bye to our delightful dinner for two!

  "Major Debras is a great friend of mine," Josephine told him.

  "Then he's a happy man," said Thomas rather crossly. He looked hard at the major. "Colonel Simeon has been waiting for you for weeks at Toulouse."

  "I only reached here yesterday. I had a difficult job getting away, M. Lieven."

  Josephine said: "Maurice can't afford to be seen in Toulouse. He's too well known there. The town is swarming with German agents and French detectives."

  "Madame," said Thomas, "you are overwhelming me with joyful tidings."

  The major said^ gravely: "I know what you mean, M. Lieven. Few people have faced greater perils than you have for the sake of France. When I reach London I shall take care to inform General de Gaulle with what daring you rescued that black brief case from the clutches of a German general."

  That black brief case! For days Thomas Lieven had been losing sleep over it.

  "Colonel Simeon has it in Toulouse."

  "No," said Debras amiably. "It's under the tools in the trunk of your car."

  "My—"

  "That little Peugeot of yours at the park gates. Come, Herr Lieven, let's go and pick it up right away, shall we, before dinner ..."

  They've trapped me, thought Thomas Lieven in a fury.

  Simeon and Mimi and Jeanne have put me on the spot. What am I going to do now? It's true enough that I didn't want German Intelligence to get hold of the brief case. But I don't want the French to get hold of it either. That would only mean bloodshed, French blood or German . . . I'm absolutely determined to stop that ... I was a peaceable man once. You people have made me a secret agent. If only you'd left me alone . . . Now look at the mess you've made of things!

&nb
sp; Thomas Lieven was still thinking along these lines while he • sat at the table with Josephine Baker on his right and the major opposite. He poked listlessly at the savory sausage course ("nests") he had himself prepared.

  The black brief case now lay on an antique sideboard under the window. It really had been in the trunk of his car.

  D6bras, as he ate away with relish, explained how it had got there. "I was on the telephone yesterday with Simeon, M. Lieven. I asked him how I was to get hold of that brief case. He said: 'You can't come to Toulouse or you'll be recognized. But that amazing fellow, Lieven, quite an extraordinary man, has been driving for weeks all round the country here, buying provisions. No one will be surprised to see him. He can bring you the brief case.'" Debras sniffed. "This stuffing is magnificent. What's it made of?"

  "Braised onions, tomatoes and various herbs. What was the point of all that secrecy, Major? Simeon might just as well have told me."

  "I arranged for it to be done that way. I didn't know you then . . ."

  "Do have some more of these nests, M. Lieven." Josephine smiled brilliantly at Thomas. "It was really the best way. As you see, the brief case has reached its destination safe and sound."

  "Yes, I can see that," said Thomas, staring at the silly thing, with its silly lists, that might still cost hundreds of people their lives. There it lay. After all the trouble taken to rescue it from the Germans it had finished up in French hands.

  Pity, thought Thomas. If it hadn't been for politics, secret services, violence and death, this might have turned out such a delightful evening!

  A quatrain from The Threepenny Opera came into his mind.

  'Tor on this earth—I wish there were another— Victuals are scarce and men are brutes, you know, 87

  We'd like to live in peace and love each other, But circumstances just won't have it so."

  No, thought Thomas. That's true. They just won't. And from then on, for that reason, every sentence he spoke was accompanied by thoughts that had nothing whatever to do with it.

  He said: "Now I'm going to serve a special dish which I have called, in honor of Madame, Oeufs a la Josephine." At the same time he thought, That brief case must not remain in Debras's possession. I like him and I like Josephine. I don't want to do them any injury. On the other hand I'm not going to be of any use to them if I can help it.