The Monte Cristo Cover-Up

by Johannes Mario Simmel

  Thomas said nothing. Yvonne was breathing noisily. .

  "What else did you say to your colonel, Herr Lieven?"

  "I made a suggestion to him which was later approved by Admiral Canaris."

  "What was the suggestion?"

  "You are the spiritual leader of the resistance here. The members obey you. If you summon a meeting of the group in the Gargilesse mill and explain that capture is inevitable, the troops will be able to take them prisoner without firing a shot."

  "And what then?"

  "In that case Admiral Canaris will give his word of honor that none of you will be handed over to the Security Police but that you will be taken to an ordinary prisoners-of-war camp."

  "That's bad enough." -

  "In the circumstances it's your best chance. The war won't go on forever."

  Professor Debouche did not answer. He stood with bent head, facing the rows of books.

  Thomas was thinking: May God grant that this war may now at last be coming to an end. It is so terribly difficult to remain decent among Nazis. May they perish now once for all. And may I at last be left to live in peace.

  But it was going to be very long indeed before such hopes could be fulfilled.

  The professor asked: "How am I going to reach Garg-ilesse?"

  "With me, by car. We haven't much time, Professor. If you decline my suggestion, the troops will begin operations at eight o'clock without us."

  "What about Yvonne? She is the only woman in the group ... a woman, Herr Lieven...."

  Thomas smiled sadly. "I shall take Mile. Yvonne as my personal prisoner—please allow me to finish—to a cell in the town jail. She will stay there until the operation is over. She will be prevented in this way from causing any disturbance with her patriotic enthusiasm. I shall then come to get her and take her to Paris. And on the way there she will escape."

  "What?" Yvonne stared at him.

  "You will succeed in getting away," Thomas said quietly. "That will be the second favor I shall have received from Colonel Werthe. It will be an escape guaranteed, so to speak, by German Intelligence."

  Yvonne walked straight up to Thomas. She was panting with excitement. "If there is a God, He will punish you ... you will perish slowly and miserably ... I am not going to escape! And Professor Debouche will never agree to your suggestion, never! We shall fight and die,all of us."

  "Oh, of course," said Thomas wearily. "And now suppose you go and sit down again and try to hold your tongue for once, you tintype heroine."

  [6]

  secret—1435 hours—9 august—intelligence paris to head intelligence berlin—alpine troops battalion clermont ferrand zone under sonderfuhrer lieven captured crozant group about 22 hours 7 august near gargilesse mill— members of group under professor debouche made no resistance—sixty-seven (67) men arrested—prisoners taken in accordance with instructions to army prisoners of war camp 343—messages ends.

  [7]

  On September 17, 1945, Professor Debouche declared before an Allied Investigations Committee in Paris:

  "All the members of the Crozant Resistance Group were" considerately treated in Army Camp 343. They all survived

  the war and returned to their homes. I must emphasize that we all probably owe our lives simply to the courage and humane feeling of a German whom we first met in the guise of a British captain and who came to visit me in Clermont-Ferrand on August 6. He said at that time that he was known as Son-derfiihrer Thomas Lieven...."

  Officials of the committee immediately began a search for Sonderfiihrer Lieven. But they couldn't find him. For in the autumn of 1945 organizations of a character very different from that of an Allied Investigations Committee were after Thomas Lieven. For this reason he had just ... But we are anticipating. Let us return to August 1943.

  [8]

  "Gentlemen," said Colonel Werthe. "I have just received the necessary instructions from Berlin. Captain Brenner, for your services in respect of the liquidation of the Crozant resistance group, you are promoted to major with retrospective effect to August 1. Furthermore, in the name of the Fuhrer and Commander in Chief I bestow upon you the War Service Cross, First Class, with Swords."

  That was little Captain Brenner's finest hour. Behind the flashing spectacles his eyes sparkled like those of a happy child on Christmas Eve. He stood stiffly to attention, chest out, stomach in.

  "Bravo!" exclaimed Lieven, the civilian. That day he was wearing a surperbly cut blue summer suit, a white shirt and a tie with subdued gray and pink stripes. "Congratulations, Major!"

  The newly fledged major murmured confusedly: "Of course I owe it all to you!"

  "Nonsense!"

  "No, it's not nonsense, you alone were responsible. I confess that I often opposed you in the question of this operation, in fact that I thought the whole thing crazy and didn't trust you in the least..."

  "If you trust me from now on all will be well," Thomas assured him indulgently. And in fact Major Brenner subsequently proved a devoted admirer of Thomas and never quailed at the wildest and most daring schemes of his strange special operations chief.

  Colonel Werthe had been awarded a bar to the Iron Cross, First Class, which he had won in the First World War.

  "Think of that," Thomas commented to the new major. "The two world wars we started came so close together that a strong, healthy man had every chance of experiencing both in all their heroic grandeur."

  "Oh, dry up," said the colonel. "I don't know what we're going to do with such a queer fish of a special operations chief as you are. You're a typical civilian, aren't you?"

  "And I hope I always shall be."

  "But there's a query here from Berlin. What sort of decoration would you like?"

  "I don't take any interest in decorations, Colonel," replied our friend. "But could I just make one request?"

  "Go ahead!"

  "I'd like a different sphere of activity. I don't want to be employed again in action against partisans, gentlemen. I'm gay and cheerful by nature. But I've lost my gaiety during these last few weeks. If I really have to go on working for you I should prefer a pleasanter, more entertaining sort of job."

  "I believe I have exactly the right assignment for you, Son-derfiihrer Lieven."

  "And that is?"

  "Supervision of the French black market," Werthe said. And in fact from that moment, at any rate for some time, all the dark clouds disappeared from Thomas Lieven's horizon and our friend went tumbling head over heels into a carnival of grotesque new adventures ...

  "Never in the whole history of mankind," said Colonel Werthe, "has so vast, crazy and dangerous a black market existed as we have here and now in Paris." Thomas learned with amazement what went on behind the superficial frivolity of the City of Light on the Seine. "All the establishments here support it, the Todt organization, the Fleet, the Air Force, the Army and its motorized forces, even the Security Police, are in the racket now."

  According to Werthe, Goering himself was in favor of taking measures against the marche noir. For competition between rival German buyers had been forcing prices up to astronomical heights. An ordinary lathe, for instance, normally worth forty thousand francs, now cost, owing to the intervention of five or six agents, a whole million.

  The Security Police had therefore set up a Counter-Black-Market office in the rue des Saussaies, with accommodation in the Surete building, and an SS Untersturmbannfuhrer in

  charge. Representatives of the Security Police from all parts of France were called in to Paris for training.

  But the new office did not prove very efficient. The counter-black-market experts, once they were trained, soon found they could come to profitable terms with the marche noir. They worked in with the French. The most scandalous rackets were organized.

  For example, fifty thousand sweaters were sold in a single day not once but four times over. The first three buyers were simply assassinated. The fourth was himself in with the group of swindlers. Consequently the sweaters could agai
n be offered for sale later on. Meanwhile the amount realized from the first three sales was already in the bag, viz., three times the price of fifty thousand pullovers.

  People disappeared. Locomotives disappeared. Hundreds of thousands of kilos of the best cigarette paper disappeared. Wilder and wilder grew the activities due to the corruption of the Security Police in the Counter-Black-Market office. Agents continually arrested or assassinated one another. Gestapo officials masqueraded as French gangsters and the latter as Gestapo officials.

  All this was explained in detail by Colonel Werthe to Thomas Lieven, who could hardly believe his ears. Finally the colonel inquired:

  "How would that sort of job suit you, Lieven?"

  "Very well indeed, I should think, Colonel."

  "Not too dangerous?"

  "Well, you know, I had quite a strenuous training in that particular field when I was in Marseilles," Thomas Lieven replied. "And I'm already in possession of all the necessary resources. I still have my villa in the Bois de Boulogne. I'm still a partner, as I was before the war, in a small bank here. I should be considered exceptionally trustworthy."

  He was thinking, And then at last, too, I should have a private life again. And at last I could loosen my ties with you, dear friends, and not see quite so much of you. Who knows? I might even contrive to get away, after all, to Switzerland ...

  [9]

  Thomas Lieven found his bank again, feeling like the man in the fairy tale who returned to his village after a long, enchanted sleep and discovered that seven years had passed. In the case of Thomas Lieven only three years had passed. The chief

  clerk and most of the older employees were still working at the bank, though many of the younger men had gone.

  Thomas accounted for his long absence by declaring that he had been imprisoned by the Germans on political grounds and only recently released.

  He next asked for news of his treacherous English partner, Robert E. Marlock. But no one had the least idea of what had become of the rascal.

  Thomas drove out to the Bois de Boulogne. The sight of the little villa in which he had spent so many delightful hours with sweet little Mimi Chambert really depressed him.

  The thought of Mimi reminded him of Colonel Simeon. Were they in Paris? He felt inclined to look for them, and also for Josephine Baker and Colonel Debras. From far, far away in the great sandy desert of time they seemed to smile at him. Then there were Bastian and Hoofy of Marseilles, Pereira, the forger of genius, Lazarus Alcoba, the dead, loyal hunchback, Estrella Rodrigues of Lisbon, the hysterical female consul. And furthest away of all, inaccessible, the melancholy smile of the woman for whom Thomas still hopelessly longed .. .

  Rousing himself abruptly from these memories he wiped the moisture from his eyes and went into the little garden of the villa, whence he had escaped three years before in a Chrysler with an American flag on its roof.

  A pretty young housemaid opened the door to him. He asked to see the master of the house. The girl showed him into the drawing roqm. 'The staff paymaster will be here in a moment."

  Thomas glanced about. He could recognize his own furniture, carpets and pictures. They were, alas, neglected, the worse for wear. But still his.

  The staff paymaster entered. He had a confident, well fed and self-important air. "Hopfner is my name. Heil Hitler! What can I do for you?"

  "Thomas Lieven. You can leave these premises immediately."

  The staff paymaster turned crimson. "Is this some silly hoax?"

  "No. It happens to be my villa."

  "Rubbish! This villa's mine. I've been living here for a year."

  "Yes, that's obvious. I never saw such a filthy mess."

  "Look here, Herr Lieven, or whatever you call yourself, be off this instant or I call the police."

  Thomas rose. "I'm on my way. Incidentally, I see that you're not quite properly dressed."

  He went to see Colonel Werthe. Two hours later Staff Paymaster Hopfner received from his immediate superior orders to evacuate the villa in the Bois de Boulogne without delay. He spent the night in a hotel. The whole thing seemed incomprehensible to him.

  [10]

  While Staff Paymaster Hopfner lost a villa, Colonel Werthe lost, about the same time, a first-rate domestic employee, the pretty, black-haired Nanette. The little French girl had met and admired Thomas Lieven when he had arrived at the house, escorted by Colonel Werthe, on December 12, 1942, after being rescued in such a pitiable condition from the Gestapo. Now Nanette suddenly gave the Intelligence colonel notice. A few days later he met her at Thomas's villa.

  "Please don't be angry, sir," she piped. "I've always wanted to work in the Bois de Boulogne."

  Thomas had soon re-equipped his former residence to his taste. The cellar was filled with black market liquor, the kitchen with black market provisions. Black market counter-measures could begin at any time.

  The first, somewhat mysterious, key figure recommended for his attention by Colonel Werthe was a certain Jean-Paul Ferroud. This white-haired giant owned, like Thomas himself, a private bank in Paris. It seemed that the biggest, most impudent frauds were being perpetrated through his agency.

  Thomas asked his fellow banker to dinner.

  In 1943 there were two steps which Frenchmen only took under most exceptionable circumstances. They very rarely visited Germans or invited visits from them. Representatives of the two nations met in restaurants, bars and theaters, but not at one another's houses unless there were very good reasons indeed for doing so.

  The Ferroud affair began, accordingly, with a surprise for Thomas. The banker accepted his invitation.

  Thomas Lieven and Nanette took five days to get the meal ready. Ferroud arrived at half-past seven. Both gentlemen wore dinner jackets.

  MENU

  Ham in (Red Wine with Celery Salad

  and (Boiled (Potatoes

  Savarin with Fruit

  PARIS, 10 SEPTEMBER 1943

  Thomas Lieven's black market raerry-go-round began with ham.

  Ham in Red Wine with Celery Salad

  From a whole fresh ham remove skin and some of the fat. Mix to a cream some grated onions, ground pepper, ginger, bay leaf and juniper berries. Rub the cream by hand well into the ham until latter goes brown. It is then placed in a pot, to which is added a bottle of red wine and half a bottle of vinegar. This is left to soak for from five to eight days during which it is occasionally turned. Before roasting it is well rubbed with salt and baked in half the liquid. When this first half of liquid has boiled away add the rest gradually. Bake the ham to a good brown color. Prepare the gravy and serve with a celery salad (no mayonnaise) and boiled potatoes. The ham requires, according to size, three to five hours' cooking time.

  Savarin with Fruit

  Take two cups of flour, exactly half a cup of milk, one envelope of dry yeast, one stick or half a cup of butter, one third of a cup of sugar, three eggs and a little salt. Make a yeast dough with a quarter of the flour and leave it to rise. Mix into it the melted butter and other ingredients and beat till bubbles form. Grease a flan tin with butter, fill three quarters of the tin with the dough and leave to rise until tin is full. Bake for thirty minutes. Meanwhile heat some tinned or bottled apricots in halves and a quarter of a cup of apricot jam. Prepare a liquid from half a cup of the fruit juice, two tablespoonfuls of white wine, one tablespoonful each of kirsch, sherry, maraschino and lemon juice, with half a teaspoonful of rum and a little powdered vanilla. Place the baked yeast cake on a warm dish, pour the hot liquid over it,

  _326

  spread it with the hot apricot jam and sprinkle it with two ta-blespoonfuls of chopped pistachio nuts. Pile the hot fruit high in the middle. The cake can be baked the day before and reheated before application of the liquid and other additions.

  They drank very dry martinis in the drawing room, then sat down to dinner by candlelight.

  Nanette served the ham.

  Ferroud ate like a connoisseur. He licked his lips delicately
. "Really wonderful, monsieur. Cooked in red wine, I take it?"

  "For five days. But the most important part of the preparation was the rubbing with juniper berries, ginger, bay leaf, ground pepper and onions. The ham has to be rubbed until it is nearly black."

  "And you only use red wine?" Ferroud looked very handsome, like an aristocratic father in a French play.

  "I added half a bottle of vinegar. Very glad you accepted my invitation."

  "The pleasure is mine," said the other, with a generous load of celery salad on his fork. "After all, it's not every day that one is invited to dinner by an agent of German Intelligence."

  Thomas went on calmly eating.

  "I have made certain inquiries about you, M. Lieven. It's really not possible to be quite sure about your true identity, since I heard so much about you that amounted actually to so little. But one thing seems certain. Your attention has been drawn to me because I am supposed to be a big wire-puller in the black market. Isn't that so?"

  "Yes," said Thomas. "Do help yourself to another slice of ham. There's one thing I don't understand."

  "What, may I ask?"

  "Well, I wonder why, if you distrust me and know what my object is, you nevertheless came to see me. There must be a reason for that."

  "Of course there is one. I wanted to meet the man who might perhaps be my enemy. And I should like to hear you quote a figure. We may be able to come to some arrangement, monsieur."

  Thomas raised his eyebrows. He retorted with a certain arrogance: "You don't seem to be so well informed about me after all. That's a pity, M. Ferroud. I'd been looking forward to meeting an adversary of my own caliber..."

  The banker flushed, laying down his knife and fork. "Then I take it no mutual agreement is possible. So it's my turn to

  say, what a pity. I fear you underestimate the danger in which you will be living from now on, monsieur. You will understand that I cannot allow anyone to see my cards. Not even men who cannot be bribed ..."