******
I lay that night in my iron hospital bed and listened to Carnac's deep, steady breathing on the other side of the room, envying him that cool detachment that enabled him to sleep so peacefully now, whereas I was so wide awake and taut that sleep seemed out of the question.
I felt instinctively that this was our last night at the hospital, and that the long chase which had started at Abbeville in May was now nearly over. I knew that much without having any dear idea as to the manner in which it would finish.
After dawn I dropped off into an uneasy sleep and wakened about seven o'clock without feeling much better.
Carnac was already dressed in the same shabby blue suit he had worn ever since we came to the hospital, and only his fine face and erect figure belied the impression of a very nondescript French civilian. He looked positively radiant and greeted me with a broad grin.
“How do you feel, Peter? You know, I feel better than I have done ever since we left England. We've waited too long doing nothing and at last we have the decision. I feel capable of anything now—it is going to be my day” —and he moved round the room whistling gaily.
We had breakfast and the morning dragged on.
The previous day, in response to my requests the doctor had managed to find a few books to help us pass the time, and I began to sort through them. They were a varied lot, ranging from Maupassant to Victor Hugo and I came across Dumas' “Three Musketeers,” and held it up to Carnac.
“Coincidence!” I said. “The first time I saw you in London I said to myself that here was D'Artagnan stepped straight out of the book, because you were so like my schoolboy dreams of the man.”
He laughed. “D'Artagnan? You are very flattering, Peter. I must remember that one. Well, I hope we shall be as successful as they always were.”
I tried to read but couldn't concentrate on the story at all and kept looking at my watch. It was just after midday; if Passy had contrived to slip away from Berlin he would now be across the German frontier and drawing down through Belgium into Northern France. There were only another eight hours to go. Please God, let nothing go wrong now. We were so near the end.
Later in the afternoon, d'Angelay came in to see us. He had been operating all morning and I thought he looked tired and strained. He sat down, lit a cigarette and looked at his watch.
“Not much longer,” he said quietly. “I’ve just realised how to dispose of our friend this evening without any noise or fuss. One jab in the arm with a hypodermic and he can go to sleep for good. Simple, eh?”
I nodded and he stretched himself on the bed and blew a series of perfect smoke rings up towards the ceiling. I walked across to the window and then stopped dead in my tracks. The event that we had been half expecting and dreading for the past few days was now about to happen. On the far side of the lawn an open car driven by a soldier was coming up the avenue leading to the hospital. I could see the swastika fluttering on the bonnet and the black collar patches of the two S.S. officers who reclined comfortably in the back.
Somehow the sight gave me no shock, no surprise, just a cold feeling of absolute finality. Twenty-four hours later it wouldn't have mattered; now it might well be the difference between victory and death. I beckoned the others quickly, they came to the window and we watched in painful silence.
The car drew up by the hospital entrance and the officers jumped out and strode up to the door followed by the N.C.O. driver.
We exchanged glances. d'Angelay said, “I've a feeling that means us.”
“Or Giselle,” snapped Carnac. “It doesn't matter much either way. We've just got to hold them off for the next few hours. Hadn't you better go down, d'Angelay? If they want to speak to you they'll only come up here searching for you. If they question you say anything—anything that will keep them quiet till tomorrow. That's all that matters, and if they look like starting trouble make some excuse to get them up here and we'll try to deal with them.”
The doctor nodded and walked quickly out of the room. Carnac stuffed the revolver into his pocket and stood by the door. He said, “Peter, you stand by the window and watch outside. So far only three men have come into the building.”
I peered out and said, “Nothing doing.” Carnac nodded.
A few minutes later footsteps came along the passage. Carnac stood behind the door. There was a tap and the orderly who brought our meals came in.
“Pardon, monsieur,” he said, “I thought Capitaine d'Angelay might be here. The Commandant wishes to see him at once.”
“No, he went out a few minutes ago.”
The door closed again.
“We were quite right,” I said.
“Yes,” said Carnac. He thought a moment and then went on. “Everything depends on how the doctor handles them. I think I'll go across into the lavatory and wait there to see what happens. If they come up, don't make any struggle or fuss—just try to hold their attention somehow and I'll do the rest.”
He opened the door cautiously and then darted across the passage to the lavatory opposite. I heard him shut and bolt the door and then went back to my post by the window.
Nothing happened for perhaps ten minutes. I was beginning to think that the doctor was putting up a pretty good bluff downstairs when I heard the tramp of feet approaching the door. There were several men this time. They stopped outside and d'Angelay's voice said, “In here.” The door was thrown open and a German officer strode into the room followed by the doctor and another S.S. man.
I continued to stand quietly by the window, watching them carefully and making no move at all.
The physical appearance of the first German was disconcerting, to put it mildly. His face was heavy and brutal, yet his eyes, which were very small and fringed with pink, had a hard gleam of intelligence in them. He was certainly no fool and looked a pretty tough proposition with his thick neck, powerful shoulders and massive frame.
The second man who stood by d'Angelay was much smaller. His face and indeed his whole appearance was thin and dried looking and he seemed to glance quickly round everything without keeping his eyes still for more than a second.
The first officer stared at me for an instant and then barked over his shoulder to the doctor, “Who is this man?”
His voice gave you a shock because it was so much higher than you would have expected in such a powerful frame.
I glanced at d'Angelay, wondering what he would say. His manner was very tense and I could see there was an explosion coming in a minute.
“He’s the man I told you about.”
“The man who was burned?”
“Yes.”
The S.S. man took two strides forward, caught me by the shoulder and twisted me round violently so that the light from the window fell on my face. The little eyes glared at me.
“Burned in the face, eh?”
“Yes,” I said stubbornly.
His jaw set in fury. He hit me across the face with his open palm and then shouted, “I’ll teach you not to lie to me! Your face was never burned. Now tell me the truth—who are you?”
I replied as steadily as I could. My voice was shaking with anger; I object to being cracked across the face.
“Phillipe Vitré.” (It was the first name that occurred to me; I knew it was no good anyway.)
The German turned round to the doctor again.
“So you thought you could get away with a story like that, did you? Now you can tell me the truth or take the consequences.”
The other German was still standing near the door. He hadn't spoken yet but I could see him darting quick glances at me as if an idea was beginning to form in his head. He stepped forward now and said something to his companion in a low voice in German. I caught only one word, but it was enough—Broussard. He'd recognised me from the description.
The big man turned round and looked at me again with new interest.
“So,” he remarked quietly. “Eddy Broussard, eh? Yes, you are quite right, my dear Rabe. No doubt a
t all. Well, Capitaine d'Angelay, you know the penalty for harbouring spies, I suppose.”
There was silence for a moment. Outside the door I heard a faint creak, so quiet and stealthy that none of the others heard it. But I'd been here a fortnight and I knew it was the lavatory door being opened very gently.
The German drew his revolver and came up to me and then, keeping the muzzle jammed in my stomach, he patted my pockets for any firearms.
I looked past him. d'Angelay and the other German were standing together in the middle of the room and behind them the door was beginning to open almost imperceptibly.
I said to the German. “You needn't worry. I haven't got a revolver, but if you look in my inside pocket you'll find my proper identity card.”
He lowered his revolver and put his hand inside my coat. Beyond his shoulder I saw Carnac sliding silently round the door.
The Hun couldn't find anything. He started angrily “Where—” and then Carnac snapped. “Put up your hands and stand still.”
My eyes were fixed on the German's face in front of me. He stiffened abruptly as he heard this curt order and started to turn his head. As he did so,, I leaned forward, grabbed his wrist and snatched the revolver out of his hand. We didn't want any gun play to rouse the hospital.
“Turn round,” said Carnac. The big man never moved.
“Turn round,” said Carnac again. There was no mistaking the menace in his voice. I saw the German gulp uncertainly and then he obeyed and as he did so I hit him very hard on the back of the head with his revolver. He took one faltering step forward and fell with a crash on the floor.
I stepped past him towards the other German. He was a nasty looking little brute and his face was the colour of chalk with fear. I gave him a swipe across the face, and as he rocked back Carnac hit him on the head with his revolver butt. He went straight down and never moved. I felt much better.
“Now we've got to be quick!” said Carnac. “What can we do with these men, d'Angelay?”
The doctor bent over them in turn, running his fingers over their heads.
“They're only stunned,” he said briefly. “No fractures, I think. I suppose we want to hide them for a bit?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I can give them an injection that will keep them under for some hours and then we can shove them away somewhere. They won't be likely to find them for a bit and in any case they wouldn't be fit to say anything.”
We started to strip off their uniforms and boots while d'Angelay left the room. He came back a minute later with a hypodermic and gave each of the unconscious men a shot in the arm. He then bundled their uniforms into the cupboard, locked it and threw the key out of the window.
There was a knock and two orderlies came in with stretchers.
“Here you are, Francois,” said the doctor briskly. “I want these two men taken along to the small room at the end of the passage. Just leave them there and I'll see about it later. And you needn't mention this to anybody.”
They heaved the unconscious men on to the stretchers, threw a blanket over them and carried them out.
“That's that,” I said. “Quite neat, I think. Now what about the feldwebel?”
“He’s still downstairs, waiting outside the Commandants office,” said d'Angelay. “I reckon we've got another quarter-of-an-hour before it occurs to him that his officers are taking rather a long time up here. Then he'll come round to look for them and when he can't find them he'll give the alarm to his headquarters. Say half-an-hour in all and then the hunt for me will start in earnest.”
“It sounds a reasonable estimate,” said Carnac. “Now tell us quickly what happened. What were they after?”
“They were very suspicious about me,” said the doctor. “I saw that from the start. I had the impression that they are beginning to take an interest in this place, perhaps with Giselle being here—I don't know. But they seemed to think there was something wrong without actually being able to put a finger on it. They asked a lot of questions. Had I ever met an American called Eddy Broussard? No. Did I know Mlle. Saint Brie? Only by sight. Then they started on the airman whose face was burned—where was he now? This was very difficult to lie about because Colonel Ravel was present and while he is a good Frenchman, I don't think he would allow his hospital to be used for this sort of thing. So I dare not tell lies. I knew it was no good then, so I said the airman was rather better now and offered to take them up to see him. I prayed hard all the way up that you'd have made some plans to deal with them.” He paused and then said as an afterthought, “I'm quite sure that Giselle and I were on the point of being arrested on suspicion.”
Carnac nodded his head slowly. “We're nearly caught, you know. If we can't get this job done tonight and get away we'll be finished. It's only a matter of hours before they find us.”
“We must alter our plans,” I said. “We can't bring Passy along here to deal with him. It's nearly five o'clock now and Giselle meets him at eight. How about marching boldly into the Deux Frères just after eight and shooting him straight off?”
“No,” said Carnac firmly. “The hunt will be up then. We'll be arrested as soon as we show our faces and if he's late for the rendezvous then our last chance is gone. We must stay in cover and somehow get him to come to us. It's the only way we can be certain of getting him.”
“Take a room in some hotel,” suggested the doctor, “then Giselle can bring him along to us.”
“Suppose she is followed and brings the Gestapo along with her—what then?”
“Then we'll have to hold them off for a few minutes while we deal with Passy.”
“The hotel idea seems the best,” I said. “Can you get a revolver for me, d'Angelay?”
“Take mine,” he said, “I'm a hopeless shot. I prefer a good trench knife.”
“We ought to take Giselle along with us now,” I said, “otherwise they may arrest her as soon as the alarm is given.”
“Yes,” said Carnac, “but if she's followed now they will come straight to our hiding place after us. We must try to get her out unobserved.”
“Take an ambulance,” said the doctor. “We can sneak her out that way. I'll go and warn her to get ready.”
He went out and I looked at my watch again. Another five minutes….
The doctor came back. “She's just changing her clothes,” he said. “She'll be waiting by the side door in a few minutes. Now let's get away.”
We left the room and walked rapidly along the passage and down the stairs. At the bottom d'Angelay stopped us and looked cautiously round the corner.
“The other Boche is in the office at the end,” he said softly. “Quickly now!”
We ran across the hall and came out in the yard. Several ambulances were standing about and d'Angelay jumped into one, Carnac sat beside him and I climbed into the back and shut the door. We drove round the corner out of the yard and stopped by the side entrance. I heard Carnac say, “In the back, quickly,” the door opened and Giselle climbed in and we started again.
She sat beside me on the stretcher and smiled. I thought she looked very tired.
“What's happening, Peter?” she said.
“We're having to get out of the hospital quickly. The Boches are after us. I'll tell you later.”
The ambulance bumped on. Once it slowed down and I thought we had been stopped by a patrol, but then we picked up speed again. After about five minutes we turned a corner and stopped. d'Angelay threw open the door and we clambered out.
I saw that we had stopped in a small yard. On one side was a high wall and at the end stood a warehouse bearing a dilapidated sign “Loiret et Cie.” The place was deserted except for two grimy children playing in the sun.
Carnac emerged from the front seat and said briskly, “We'll abandon the ambulance here. I don't think anybody saw us drive in and probably the Boche won't find it for a bit. Now we must get off the streets as quickly as possible. Allons!”
We emerged into a narrow side str
eet, turned right and walked up to the main thoroughfare. The usual crowd of Germans wandered about and peered into windows but nobody seemed to pay any attention to us. Carnac and the doctor walked in front; I wondered where they were heading for. A little further on they turned suddenly into a doorway and as we followed them I saw a sign above the door “Hotel Normandie.”
In the gloomy little entrance hall Carnac spoke to the landlord. We wanted a room on the first floor for a little party tonight; a thousand francs clinched the matter, the man bowed and said that would be quite all right. Carnac had to complete an arrival form for the German authorities and I wondered what set of names he would be giving this time. It really didn't matter much now.
We then mounted the stairs to our room. It was bigger than you would have expected in such a second-rate establishment, with an old-fashioned chandelier suspended from the ceiling and some particularly hideous red plush chairs; I remember them distinctly. In the middle of the room was a large table.
Carnac ordered a bottle of cognac and shut the door, while I looked at my watch for the hundredth time that day. It was just after six o’clock; the alarm would have been raised at the hospital now and probably the drugged officers discovered; very soon the Gestapo would be combing the town for us. We had got under cover only just in time.
“Now,” said Carnac, “let's have a drink and decide what to do.”
d'Angelay opened the bottle and poured out a stiff brandy apiece.
A lot was going to depend on whether the Germans were looking for Giselle as well as the doctor; if so we might well lose our bait before the fish was caught. On the other hand, if they saw her at the Deux Frères they might follow her as they had done before to see if she gave anything away, and in this case she would inevitably lead them straight to the hotel. It was a difficult problem but in the end we decided that the risk had to be taken. She was to go to the café to meet Passy and we would ring her up soon after eight to find out the position and whether Passy was willing to come along to the Normandie.
It not, then we should have to walk straight along to the Deux Frères, shoot at sight and damn the consequences.
“So that's all fixed,” said Carnac. He walked across to the window and beckoned me. I glanced out and saw that we were at the back of the hotel looking out on to a cluster of buildings and yards. I understood now the reason for the first floor; immediately below us was a flat roof and from there it was only eight feet or so to the ground. A narrow passage ran down on one side and disappeared beneath an archway.
We looked at it carefully. I knew what he was thinking.
“I'll go down and have a look at it,” he said, and went out. I remained by the window and a moment later he emerged from a door below and walked down the passage under the arch. He came back a few minutes later.
“It runs through into a narrow street,” he said. “If we have to leave in a hurry it may be useful.”
He poured out another cognac and turned round to us, half smiling, half serious. I noticed again the little trick of tapping one foot against another that betrayed his inward excitement.
“One other thing,” he said, “I spoke to the patron just now. His wife has just come in and says there is a great commotion in the street. German troops have cordoned it off and they are going through all the houses. It looks as though our friends have been very quick in finding the ambulance and connecting it with our disappearance from the hospital.”
He shrugged his shoulders with a typical gesture. “But what does it matter? They're only searching round the place where they found the ambulance—they won't be here for a bit yet. Something tells me we shall not fail now.”
Giselle sat on the edge of her chair and twirled the stem of the glass between her fingers. She had spoken scarcely a word since we left the hospital. I think she hated more than ever the part she was to play and was trying to steel herself to see it through. She looked utterly miserable and her eyes were dark ringed with anxiety.
On the other side of the table the doctor was equally silent. He had scarcely touched his cognac and his round rather plump face was quite inscrutable, but I knew him fairly well by this time and I don't think he was either worried or unhappy. At the moment he was certainly the calmest one of us all.
Pursuit of Passy Page 35
