by Andrew Wood
Once they had gone he stood to take a look around. This had definitely been a good idea. From this position he was now much closer to the end wall and Graf’s escape route. Better still, he had Graf completely pinned down in the opposite corner and had an unimpeded view, which meant that he would be able to cover Graf regardless of whether he tried to go back towards Lemele, or the other way towards the door.
“Come on out, Graf,” shouted Marner. “You’re trapped. It will only be a matter of minutes before more troops arrive.”
The response was a belligerent shot fired blindly by Graf over the top of the crates that he was hiding behind. Marner decided that he would try some persuasion of his own. He brought the machine gun up and fired a long fusillade on full automatic, raking from the wall on one side of the crates behind which Graf cowered, along the crates themselves and to the wall on the other side. Except that it did not work quite as he had planned. He had correctly compensated for the recoil this time, keeping his burst flat and level as he walked the bullets along the crates, sending chunks of wood flying in all directions. However, the gun clicked onto an empty chamber before he had finished.
“Oh, shit.” He rapidly brought to mind the technique that Boris had demonstrated to him for ejecting the empty magazine, banging in the new one and working the mechanism to pump the first bullet into the chamber. He flicked the release lever on the side of the gun to drop out the curved magazine and .... and he had left all of the spare ones in his bag in Breunig’s office. He stood there completely stunned by his own stupidity, wondering whether to beat himself over the head with the empty, useless weapon.
Graf had heard the dry-fire of the weapon and peered over the top of the crates, ready to take advantage of the pause whilst Marner reloaded. He could scarcely believe his luck when he saw his adversary looking dejectedly back and forth between the unloaded machine gun in one hand and the empty magazine in the other. “If it is bullets that you are looking for Lieutenant,” he roared arrogantly, and fired twice at Marner, “have some of mine!”
Marner dipped smartly as the two rounds slammed into the structure of the crane near his head, striking sparks. He poked his head up again, expecting to see Graf running for the door, but was instead amazed and alarmed to see him actually walking calmly the other way, back towards the front entrance. It was only when he saw the menacing grin on Graf’s face, the determined stride straight towards where Lemele was peering over the top of the drums, that he realised what Graf’s intention was.
His call to Lemele to warn her of Graf’s approach was entirely unnecessary, since she could see perfectly well for herself. If Graf was surprised when she stood up, stepped out from behind the drums and actually began advancing towards him, it was nothing compared to his shock when she raised her right hand from her side and levelled Marner’s Walther P38 at his head. Graf stopped, began to open his mouth to reason with her but got no further because she began firing shots at him as fast as the semi-automatic pistol’s mechanism would permit, spent cartridges arcing out and dancing on the ground around her feet. Graf wheeled around and raced back along the quay and around the corner where he had been hiding just moments before. He was running near-blind, head down with his left arm up in a futile attempt to shield himself, Lemele’s shots exploding concrete dust from the wall behind him.
On seeing Lemele stand, advance at Graf and then begin firing at him, Marner had momentarily stood open mouthed in utter amazement. But when he saw Graf turn and flee he too began to run. Marner matched Graf’s progress on the opposite side of the pen, rounding the corner at exactly the same time and sprinted at full speed, head on with his quarry.
Graf only sensed Marner’s presence at the last moment, so intent was he on reaching the exit to escape from that demented witch and her gun. It was too late for Graf to react. The two men cannoned into one another and went down in a tangle of limbs, the impact knocking the air out of their lungs. Marner sat up and saw that Graf still had the pistol in his hand, was raising it to aim. Lashing out with his boot, the instep caught Graf’s wrist and the gun was sent clattering away out into the light beyond the doorway. Marner thumped the butt of the empty StG44 into Graf’s cheek, bringing a satisfying thud and yell of pain from him. Despite the blow, Graf was up first, grabbing each end of the machine gun in Marner’s hands and using his tactical advantage of height and gravity to push Marner down onto his back. If he did not do something to get out from underneath, Graf would crush the gun down on his throat and choke him. With the floor under him and Graf in too close, Marner could not kick, but he had just sufficient space between their bodies to drag his knees up to his chest. Suddenly he switched from pushing to pulling, which took Graf by surprise. Marner kept pulling, using the momentum and, as Graf started to come down on top of him, Marner kicked up and out with his legs, sending Graf up and over the top and nearly into the water.
Rolling onto his front, Marner was surprised to see Graf already rising to his feet. The man was incredibly agile. Graf rose up to his full height, drew his leg back ready to kick Marner in the face, but froze when a pistol barrel was rammed up against his temple. He felt as well as heard the hammer click back to the cocked position. “Ca suffit!” snarled Lemele.
Moments later a group of Kriegsmarine guards arrived, levelling their weapons at all three of them, unsure of exactly who it was they were supposed to be arresting. Most of them seemed intent on pointing their guns at Lemele because she was the only one armed, holding a pistol to the head of a Kriegsmarine officer no less. Fortunately Breunig was only seconds behind, still pale and white, panting and wild eyed but at least capable of gasping that it was Graf who should be placed under arrest.
The guards swivelled their weapons from Lemele to Graf. Lemele, instead of pulling the gun away from Graf’s head, pulled the trigger. Graf flinched and gasped as the hammer crunched onto the empty chamber, then he turned to glare at her with undisguised hatred as he was hauled away.
Chapter Twenty One
Back in Breunig’s office, with Graf now shackled and flanked by four guards, Marner instructed Breunig to call Hoffman at Kriegsmarine to report the day’s events. Breunig was still deeply in shock, gulping brandy in between apologising and explaining that he was only an engineer forced into uniform, not a military man. The chief of security had been summoned and he offered Marner the use of the base facilities and personnel to hold Graf pending his transfer to Paris. This Marner declined; he could see the hostile attitude of the guards and feared that if he left Graf in their charge, retribution might be exacted by the friends of the soldier that Graf had killed.
Instead, Marner requested the use of a vehicle to take Graf to the local Wehrmacht headquarters for holding. Marner’s plan was to move Graf to Paris and into Kripo custody at Foch as soon as possible. In particular, he wanted to keep Graf out of Gestapo hands until the potential involvement of the Gestapo and the Carlingue could be established. He considered going directly to the train station in order to set off for Paris immediately, but quickly rejected this idea. Whilst it was still only early afternoon, Paris was an eight hour journey by train at best and therefore his chances of reaching there by nightfall were practically nil. It was better to keep Graf under lockdown in secure facilities here in Bordeaux than have to improvise wherever they might end up stopping for the night.
The vehicle turned out to be a small open topped truck. Marner and Lemele shared the cab with the driver whilst Graf was thrown, literally, into the rear with the guards. Still shackled, he had been struggling to get up onto the tailgate and before Marner could intervene, two of the guards had lifted him up and hurled him in like a sack of vegetables, Graf bouncing and then rolling noisily along the floor of the van. Marner frowned at the sergeant in charge of the guard detail but it was plain to see from the man’s expression that he did not care; would probably like to do worse.
Once they had set off, Marner asked Lemele, “So you did know that the pistol was empty when you pulled the trigger
on his head. Didn’t you?”
“Of course I did,” she replied, staring forward. “I counted the seven shots out when he was running.”
Marner gasped in horror. “No, eight! I told you, seven rounds in the magazine, plus one in the chamber. For go....” Then he saw that she was grinning, jesting with him. “Oh ha-ha; very funny.”
The Wehrmacht garrison was in the more down at heel suburbs on the eastern side of the Gironde. On arrival, Marner supervised Graf’s placement into a cell in the main building in the compound. He had been extremely surprised to find that the cells of the detention block, normally reserved for holding military personnel, were all full of civilians. The supervisor was a grizzled, bear-like Kaporal named Gotsmich who looked as if he were capable of bending the cell bars with his bare hands. Gotsmich explained that they were holding overspill from the SD headquarters in the town. “A lot of terrorist activity at the moment by the locals,” he growled. “We usually provide the manpower for arrests and big actions. Now we are also holding the prisoners until your SS chums are ready for them.” From the look in his face there was no doubt that Gotsmich felt no sympathy for the prisoners or their fate.
Marner instructed him that he needed Graf held overnight whilst arrangements were made to take him back to Paris, explaining that Graf was guilty of at least one murder - the German solider earlier in the day - possibly others. He needed to be sure that Graf would not be the subject of retribution whilst in Gotsmich’s ‘care’.
“Sounds like someone deserving of some retribution to me!” grumbled Gotsmich, defiantly crossing his huge arms.
“I fully agree with you,” responded Marner, in a tone that was intended to sound as if he genuinely did. “My point is that we also believe that he has been working in collusion with our enemies and that more German military personnel are in danger. That is why it is most essential that we persuade him to tell us the full extent of his involvement. Which is why I need him to be delivered safe and unharmed, for the moment at least, into the hands of our SS ‘experts’ in Paris,” he finished, putting some emphasis on the word ‘experts’ to infer that Graf’s fate would be worse than anything that Gotsmich could mete out. “To which I must add that some people who are very high up in Paris command are taking a very close interest in him. So you really do not want the responsibility of something unfortunate happening to him whilst he is in your charge.”
Gotsmich uncrossed his arms, which Marner took to be a sign of the end of his belligerence, if not total agreement. They agreed that Graf would be put alone into a closed cell, out of sight and risk of potential violence from the other prisoners, although Marner’s real reason for this request was to keep Graf out of view and thus the curiosity of visiting local Gestapo.
Lemele had been left waiting in the administration area. When Marner returned and asked one of the clerks to find a local hotel and to have her taken there, she protested. “If you are going to question Graf, I insist on being present!”
Marner ushered her out of earshot of the smirking clerk. “I don’t think that he is going to say anything, based on his attitude so far.” Graf had been entirely silent, almost arrogant, since they had arrested him. “He is clearly at the centre of something complex and is not going to confess it all to us just because we ask him nicely. Maybe he’s actually more scared of whoever else is involved in this than he is of us. So my plan for this afternoon is simply to sew the seed of fear in his head: of what is going to happen when we deliver him into custody in Paris tomorrow. Then we leave that to grow and fester in his head overnight and we try our luck on him tomorrow. Trust me, this is my job; I’ve spent years learning how to crack hard nuts like him. So go to the hotel and relax.”
Lemele stood unmoving, not convinced. He could let her come along and listen to what he was going to say to Graf, but that would involve having Graf moved for the interview, since he did not want Lemele in the detention block seeing all of the civilian prisoners held there. Besides, what he was telling her was the truth. All he was going to do was state the obvious: that Graf would be hauled back to Paris and handed over for interrogation, with the insinuation that it would undoubtedly be hard and nasty, promptly followed by a firing squad. Marner would simply offer Graf some breaks, hint that he would plead on Graf’s behalf if he would disclose the whole story as well as his accomplices. The probability of Graf avoiding a death sentence was zero, even with his full cooperation, but Marner’s experience was that desperate people would sometimes grasp at such straws.
“Go to the hotel. I’ll follow you in an hour unless he opens up more easily than I’m expecting. If that’s the case, I will send someone for you.”
Whilst the clerk completed the arrangements for the hotel and transport for Lemele, Marner placed a call to Odewald. Marner was uneasy because he could not be sure if it had been necessary for Boris to cover for his unauthorised departure from Toulouse. Therefore, when finally connected with Odewald, he was ready with an improvised story to explain that he had gone to Bordeaux chasing a lead for Loutrel and taken the opportunity to see Graf whilst there. In the event it was all unnecessary. Odewald had already been called by Breunig and the Sturmbahnfuhrer was in fact delighted by the glowing report that he had received from Breunig regarding Marner’s capture of Graf and his heroic saving of Breunig’s life. Marner nearly dropped the receiver when he heard this last part, but elected not to disavow Odewald of Breunig’s version of events.
When pressed for details on what Graf was involved in, Marner declined to go into this on the telephone, citing the number of listening ears in the open office that he was calling from. He was equally tight-lipped when asked about ‘this mysterious police woman with whom he was operating’, stressing that all would be disclosed when he returned to Paris tomorrow. Marner’s primary reason for calling was to ensure that they would be met at the train station on their return, and that Odewald keep this strictly within Kripo and Kripo alone, due to the potential involvement of Department IV.
This time it was Odewald’s turn to fumble with the telephone receiver. Marner again stressed that he could not talk openly, but that Hoffman at Kriegsmarine would verify this if Odewald wanted confirmation. The cogs whirring in Odewald’s head regarding the political implications of any smear on their Gestapo cousins were almost audible. Marner could certainly hear the glee in Odewald’s voice in anticipation of the credit that he would receive if his department uncovered any such plot.
When he returned to Graf’s cell, Marner found his prisoner sitting cross legged on the cot, staring at the wall. The walls were of rough stone painted grey, pocked with scratches that on closer inspection turned out to be names and dates gouged into the paint and even deeper into the stone with whatever instruments the previous occupants of the cell had possessed.
He ran through his prepared pitch, which was essentially the same one he had used all of his working life. It only varied in content according to the potential punishment that the crime and charge carried, the other variant being how long he would leave his captive to absorb and dwell on it. In this instance, there was the added leverage of the reference to the no-holds barred interrogation that was waiting for Graf in Paris. And last but not least, the charade of a court martial in lieu of trial that would be the brief pause between interrogation room and bullet riddled wall. This did get a reaction from Graf, but it was only the same arrogant stare that Graf had bestowed upon him earlier. Marner shrugged and banged for the guard to open the door to let him out, playing it equally cool with Graf, knowing that it was only the opening gambit in the game.
Gotsmich was left with instructions that Graf was to be given no food and only minimum water and was to be kept awake as much as possible through the night. Such deprivation over a short period would not be of much use, but Marner was on a tight timetable and he was determined to exploit any potential edge.
Arriving at the hotel on the east bank of the Gironde, Marner was relieved to find that it was reasonable, certainly much
better than the run-down taverns and pensions that he had eyed pessimistically on their ride to the garrison earlier. It was now after five o’clock and he left Lemele undisturbed, taking the opportunity to soak in the bath and unwind for an hour, looking forward to the evening and the opportunity to finally engage with her on a personal basis.
----
Descending to the hotel restaurant on the first floor just after seven o’clock, Marner was both famished and, bizarrely for him, in the mood for alcohol. He was reassured to note that it was a celebratory appetite rather than a drowning of sorrows.
The maitre d’ attempted to lead him to a table in a gloomy recess of the dining room. Stubbornly, Marner veered off when he saw where he was being led, selecting instead a table that was beside a large window with a panoramic view of the river and the city on the opposite bank. Having installed himself, ignoring the scowl from the maitre d’, he spent the time waiting for Lemele to rack his brain for subjects of conversation that would be useful for the evening. His previous encounters with females had taught him that he was poor at spontaneous small talk and thus a little preparation was invaluable. Out of politeness he guessed that he should sit with his back to the window and afford Lemele the benefit of the view. On the other hand, he was concerned that he would then not be the subject of her full attention, which bothered him. Therefore, by the time that the bottle of wine that Marner had ordered had arrived, he had rearranged the two chairs and place settings through ninety degrees so that both were side-on to the window; both with an equal share of the view. The maitre d’ gave a shudder and sorry shake of his head on seeing what Marner was doing, but meekly accepted this interference in his ordered domain.
