The Game of Treachery

by Christopher Nicole

  ‘This is very strange,’ the sergeant observed.

  ‘It is not strange at all. Listen, you have a telephone in that box. I can see the wires. I wish you to telephone Colonel Hoeppner. Tell him my name, and ask for instructions.’

  The sergeant nodded. ‘That is the best thing. Hans!’

  ‘Christine von Ulstein,’ Christine reminded him.

  ‘You cannot hold me,’ Joanna said. ‘I am a neutral, and I have committed no crime.’

  ‘You have just admitted attempting to smuggle someone across the border, Fräulein.’

  Joanna bit her lip, and looked at Christine. ‘I am going to break your lousy neck.’

  ‘It is your neck you should think of, Fräulein.’

  Hans reappeared. ‘Colonel Hoeppner has left his office.’

  ‘Then ring his home, you idiot,’ Christine shouted.

  Hans, clearly offended, looked at the sergeant. ‘Do it.’ He went off again.

  *

  The two women had to wait over an hour, while the evening slowly drew in. They were allowed to sit on the bench outside the post, and were given water to drink. ‘What’s your plan when this Hoeppner character says he has never heard of you?’ Joanna asked.

  ‘Franz and I are old friends. We have even been lovers.’

  Joanna stared at her. ‘My God! I remember you! Berlin!’

  ‘As I remember you, Fräulein Jonsson.’

  Joanna had nothing to say. She could only wonder what James’s reaction would be when he discovered that she had compromised the guerillas. But of course she hadn’t. This woman had already infiltrated them, prepared them for destruction. Her business was to prevent that from happening. If she could.

  At last two cars approached the post, and the soldiers stood to attention. Several men got out, but only one came forward. Franz Hoeppner was in evening dress and did not look very pleased. But he brightened up when he saw Christine, before frowning again. ‘What has happened?’

  ‘I will tell you when we are alone. But first, this woman must be arrested.’

  Franz looked at Joanna. ‘We have met.’

  ‘In Berlin, yes. Then you know who I am.’

  ‘Fräulein Jonsson, the journalist. I do not understand. What are you doing in Bordeaux?’

  ‘She is in league with the guerillas,’ Christine said.

  ‘I don’t know who this woman is,’ Joanna said. ‘But she is stark staring mad. I picked her up on the road, and she asked me to smuggle her into Bordeaux. So I hid her in the boot of my car. I know it was a stupid, perhaps a criminal thing to do, but she looked such a pitiful wreck …’

  ‘I must speak with you, Franz. I have vitally important information.’

  ‘But this woman —’

  ‘Must be kept under close arrest until after we have spoken.’

  ‘You would not dare!’ Joanna snapped. ‘I am an American citizen. My papers are in order.’

  ‘But you have admitted to breaking the law,’ Franz said. ‘The matter will have to be investigated. Sergeant!’

  One of the men waiting by the cars came to him. ‘Herr Colonel!’

  ‘This woman is under arrest. Take her to headquarters and hold her there until I can interview her.’

  ‘Buster, you are going to be cashiered,’ Joanna said. ‘I wish to speak with the American consul. No, on second thought, I wish to make a phone call to the ambassador in Paris.’

  ‘All in good time, Fräulein Jonsson. You will go with the sergeant, please. If you attempt to resist, he will be forced to handcuff you.’

  ‘I would do that anyway,’ Christine recommended. Joanna gave her a last look, and allowed herself to be led away.

  ‘Now you come with me.’ Franz showed Christine to his car, and got into the back seat beside her. ‘Tell me what has happened.’

  ‘It is a long story.’

  ‘And I am going out to dinner.’

  ‘So where are you taking me?’

  ‘A hotel?’

  ‘Like this? Besides, I do not wish anyone to see me. I also want a hot bath and some decent food and drink. Take me to your apartment.’

  ‘It will be a pleasure. Are you still on duty?’

  ‘I am always on duty. Are you still going to your dinner party? What I have to say is most important.’

  Franz considered, and then smiled. ‘I think I had better stay with you.’

  *

  Christine soaked in Franz’s tub, a glass of champagne at her elbow. ‘So there it is.’

  Franz had taken off his jacket and was leaning against the wall, looking at her. ‘It is a confusing picture.’

  ‘It is not in the least confusing.’ Christine got out of the bath and dried herself. ‘I have told you where the main part of the guerillas will be in three weeks’ time, and that they will be assisting the British in an assault upon St Valery.’

  ‘But you do not know the exact date.’

  ‘Three weeks’ time, Franz. All you have to do is give Weber that information and he will take care of it. But the other information is even more important.’

  ‘That Liane de Gruchy is in Paris? It is a very large city.’

  ‘She is going to be associating with her old Left Bank friends. And she is there for a purpose. Weber will know how to handle it.’

  ‘And you? You have broken your cover.’

  ‘I do not think so. If I return to the guerillas explaining how we were arrested, and how I managed to escape, they will accept me back. Moulin and Amalie de Gruchy, certainly. They are trusting people, and Amalie likes me. The important thing is for this Jonsson woman not to be able to get back to them to tell them what really happened.’

  ‘That is a tricky one. I believe she is very well connected.’

  ‘Weber will tell you how to handle it.’ Christine went into the bedroom, lay on the bed. ‘Why do you not call him now? I am very tired, and would like to be able to relax.’ She rolled on to her stomach.

  ‘My God!’ he said. ‘Those scars … You are marked for life.’

  ‘They will fade. Would you not like to stroke them for me, Franz?’

  *

  ‘It is all falling into our lap,’ Weber told Heydrich. ‘That girl is brilliant. I have alerted our people in Normandy, and also Roess in Paris.’

  ‘You think this de Gruchy woman is connected with this escape route.’

  ‘That is what Christine says. Somehow I doubt it. She is an assassin, not an organizer. But if she is in Paris, it is for some reason. We will find her. Now there remains the question of Jonsson.’

  ‘My original orders stand. Rough her up a little, apologize, and let her go.’

  ‘Let her go? That will compromise Ulstein. At the very least she must be deported from Europe.’

  Heydrich shook his head. ‘That would cause difficulty with the United States. They are already virtually at war with us, with their ships attacking our submarines, and the amount of materiel they are pouring into Great Britain. The Führer does not wish, at this time, to give them an excuse to claim the mistreatment of one of their citizens. Besides, she will be more useful to us here, now that we know she has links with the guerillas.’

  ‘It will mean endangering Ulstein’s mission. Her life.’

  ‘Not unless Jonsson manages to return there, or get in touch with the guerillas. That is up to you to prevent.’

  ‘I do not like it.’

  ‘I have never known you so agitated. Is this Ulstein a friend of yours?’

  ‘She is one of my best people. I would like to pull her out.’

  ‘After going to such lengths to establish her?’

  ‘Reinhard, if this information she has provided is accurate, her mission has been completed. When we have destroyed the main body of the guerillas —’

  Heydrich held up a finger. ‘If we destroy the main body of the guerillas.’

  ‘We will. But also, if we manage to lay hands on Liane de Gruchy —’

  ‘Again, it is a case of if you manage
to do so. No, no, Oskar, I think your little friend will have to remain in situ until we are certain of success. You tell me she is eager to continue. Humour her. Just make sure than Jonsson cannot again interfere. It will be quite simple. Have Hoeppner apologize for his mistake in arresting her and return her to Berlin. Once she is here, you make sure she does not leave again until we have destroyed these vermin. You know how to handle it. It should only be a matter of a couple of weeks. It will be interesting to see if she contacts Madeleine von Helsingen. What is the situation there, anyway?’

  ‘I put it on ice, as we agreed, until we discovered what Jonsson was up to. Now that we know …’

  ‘Do not arrest her.’

  ‘But you said —’

  ‘Circumstances have changed. I have discovered that she is pregnant, and there is a rumour that the Führer has agreed to be godfather to the child when it is born. However, I think you could pay her a visit. Right now, with her husband far away and her belly full, she will be even more vulnerable than usual. But you are not interrogating her. Make sure she understands this. You are attempting to enlist her help in discovering just what Jonsson is up to. As I have said, I think she is in a fragile state. She may well reveal a great deal, especially if you make her feel that we, you, the SD, are entirely on her side in wishing to protect her from such a dangerous and undesirable acquaintance.’

  *

  ‘Monica! Oh, Monica!’ Amalie embraced her friend, and then stood back to look at her. As on the occasion of their first meeting, Christine looked like a rag doll that had been rolled in the dust. ‘What happened?’

  Christine sat down, struggled to her feet again as Moulin appeared. ‘Monica? Where is Mademoiselle Jonsson?’ Christine sat down again. ‘May I have some wine?’ Amalie hurriedly poured, and Christine drank deeply. ‘Did you get to see my parents?’ Amalie asked.

  ‘We never even got to Bordeaux. We were arrested.’

  ‘They recognized you?’

  ‘I don’t think so. It was Joanna they were after.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know. But they had a photograph of her pinned to the wall of the border station, and one of the men recognized her. They placed her under arrest. They paid no attention to me, so I slipped away and hid. I got back across the border and have been walking for two days.’

  ‘My God! You poor woman,’ Amalie said. ‘I will get you something to eat.’

  ‘But I don’t understand,’ Moulin said. ‘Surely Joanna cannot be arrested? She is an American citizen.’

  ‘I do not know the reason,’ Christine insisted. ‘I only know that they had a wanted picture of her.’

  ‘Do you know what happened to her?’

  ‘No. As I said, I escaped.’

  Moulin looked at Amalie. ‘What are we to do?’

  ‘What can we do? Joanna is a journalist, and as you say, an American. Her own people will have to help her. We must just be happy that Monica has got back to us.’ Christine hugged her.

  *

  Joanna got out of the police car and the hotel doorman hurried forward to greet her. ‘Fräulein Jonsson! How good to have you back.’ He picked up her bag.

  ‘My room still there?’

  ‘Of course, Fräulein. Exactly as you left it.’

  ‘Thank God for that.’ She looked along the street, the bustling, chattering, smiling people. ‘Everyone seems happy.’

  ‘Well, of course, Fräulein. The news is all good, eh? The Russian army has been entirely destroyed. We shall be in Moscow in a fortnight.’

  ‘Great stuff.’ She went to reception.

  ‘Fräulein!’ The clerk frowned. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Not as right as I am going to be after a hot bath and a drink. Send up some champagne.’

  ‘Of course, Fräulein.’ He took the key from the pigeon hole, and with it an envelope. ‘There is a telephone message for you.’

  Joanna put the envelope in her shoulder bag and went to the lifts, followed by a bellboy with her suitcase. She was keeping herself carefully under control, as she had done for the past week. But when she had closed and locked the bedroom door behind the boy, she threw herself across the bed and lay there for several minutes, fists clenched. When there was a knock on the door, she got up, opened it, signed the chit. The waiter opened the bottle and left. Joanna kicked off her shoes, poured herself a glass, drank, and turned on the bath. While it filled, she dropped her clothes on the floor, emptied the contents of the suitcase on top of them. She did not wish to see any of them again, certainly not until they had been laundered at least twice.

  Then she stood in front of the mirror, again for the first time in a week. She was staring at a stranger. She touched her hair, which was both untidy and dirty. Both of those were about to be put right. But she could still feel the fingers being thrust into it, still feel the tugging of the roots as her head was forced forward and downwards. ‘Bend, Fräulein, bend.’ The words hummed in her ears. She touched her breasts, ran her fingers down her sides to her hips, then in front to sift through her pubes. She had nothing to show for what had happened, not a single bruise. They had been almost gentle with her. Yet she felt filthy, and in all the fifteen years of frenetic sexuality she had enjoyed since her sixteenth birthday, which had encompassed both men and women and some pretty wild sessions, she had never felt filthy before.

  The envelope had fallen to the floor. She picked it up, slit it with her thumb. I must see you. It is terribly important. Madeleine.

  There was no date. Joanna switched off the water and rang the desk. ‘Fräulein Jonsson. The telephone message for me. When was it made?’

  ‘Yesterday morning, Fräulein.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She sank into the tub with a great sigh of relief. So they were getting to Madeleine, too. But they couldn’t know anything about Madeleine’s treason, or she would hardly be making telephone calls. She washed her hair, again and again, then got out of the bath, dried herself, wrapped her head in a towel, picked up the phone, and put it down again: Madeleine’s line was almost certainly being tapped, as was the hotel’s, no doubt. On the other hand, Madeleine’s apartment was being watched. So what the hell? All she wanted to do was go to bed for a week, at least after she had got back to Stockholm … and that was actually more important than contacting Madeleine. She telephoned the travel agency she always used. ‘Hermann? Fräulein Jonsson. I want a seat on the next train to Copenhagen.’

  ‘Ah … I am sorry, Fräulein. There are no seats available to Copenhagen. There is some kind of security problem.’

  ‘Don’t tell me the Danes are acting up. Oh, very well, find me a passage on the next ship direct to Sweden.’

  ‘I am sorry, Fräulein. There are no berths available for Sweden.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake, Hermann. You are starting to annoy me. All right, I’ll go to Switzerland.’

  ‘I m sorry, Fräulein, but —’

  ‘There are no trains to Switzerland. You are a shitting asshole, Hermann. You can close my account. I won’t be using you again.’

  ‘I have already closed the account, Fräulein.’

  Joanna slammed the receiver into its holder so hard she thought for a moment that she had broken it. Then she picked it up again, hesitated for a moment, and called the Swedish embassy — it would be better not to involve the Americans unless she had to. ‘The ambassador, please.’

  ‘Is he expecting your call?’

  ‘Tell him it’s Joanna Jonsson, and it is urgent.’ She tapped her fingers on the table as she waited for the man’s voice. ‘Sven!’

  ‘Joanna? My dear girl. Are you in Berlin?’

  ‘I am at the Albert.’

  ‘Of course. But are you all right? You sound upset.’

  ‘I am upset. I have been arrested.’

  ‘What! Here in Berlin?’

  ‘No, it was in the south of France. I was following a possible story, and I appear to have broken one or two rules.’

  ‘They did not hurt
you?’

  ‘No. They were most apologetic when they realized their mistake, sent me back here in a first-class compartment, had me met at the station and delivered here … But it is humiliating to be locked up, even for a couple of days. I want to go home.’

  ‘Of course. Would you like me to make an official protest?’

  ‘I would like you to get me out of here.’

  ‘I don’t understand. You mean you are still under arrest? I will soon sort that out.’

  ‘I am not under arrest, Sven. At least officially. But I am confined to Berlin. I can’t get a train, and I can’t get a booking.’

  ‘Is there a reason?’

  ‘There is nothing available anywhere, they say.’

  ‘Hm. That is very strange. Leave it with me. I’ll have a word with Ribbentrop and sort it out.’

  ‘Thank you. Would that be today?’

  ‘Well, that will depend on how soon I can get hold of him. Give me a day or two.’

  Joanna stared at the phone. But if the Gestapo were listening, to press too hard might be dangerous, especially as she did not know how much they knew about her real activities. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘But make it as quick as you can. I really would like to get out of this place.’ She replaced the receiver, gazed at the wall. She knew exactly what was happening. The Germans wanted her kept in Berlin until they had been able to act on that bitch’s information, both as regards countering the guerilla move towards St Valery — and preparing the defences there for a British attack — and had closed the net on Liane. And if she tried to send a message to England from inside Berlin, they would then have her arrested as a spy, lock her up until they were ready, and then deport her, permanently.

  But they didn’t know about Joachim. So he was only to be used in the direst emergency. But if this wasn’t a dire emergency, she didn’t know what was. His address was locked in her jewel case, which appeared to be untouched. She got dressed, brushed her hair, added make-up and felt a whole lot better … and the phone rang. She ran to it, picked it up. ‘Sven? So quickly? You are a darling.’

  ‘Joanna? Did you get my message?’

  ‘Oh, shit,’ Joanna remarked, and sat on the bed.

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘How nice to hear your voice, Madeleine. Yes, I got your message. I was coming to see you tomorrow.’