by Alan Furst
Mathieu climbed over the gate and hung on to the top, his legs dangling beneath him, then, as the short man took a step toward him and slid his hand inside his jacket, let go. He fell flat on the track, one knee bounced off the iron rail, the other scraped across the gravel bed beneath the ties. Mathieu rolled away from the track and tumbled down an embankment, waiting for the shot, waiting to be killed. But there was no shot and Mathieu, sore and bleeding, watched as the train chugged away into the distance and, at last, disappeared.
—
1944.
Before the war, the Brasserie Heininger had been one of the merriest restaurants in Paris. Just down the street from the Place Bastille, it was all vast, gold-framed mirrors above dark red banquettes, where waiters with fin de siècle whiskers hurried among the tables, balancing bottles of champagne in ice buckets and platters of choucroute garnie on silver trays. At the beginning of the Occupation, the brasserie had remained open for two weeks, then, as Papa Heininger wearied of the crowd of German officers, he shut it down and went off to live with his sister’s family.
In August of 1944, Paris was liberated and Papa Heininger rushed to get his brasserie reopened. It wasn’t yet as it had been but the food was good and the crates of champagne in the cellar had been hidden away from German eyes. The old customers came back when they heard the news. Two of them, a couple whose apartment was in sight of the Bois de Boulogne, visited the Heininger on the night of the fourteenth of September and were seated at the favored table 14, where the mirror above the banquette still bore a bullet hole from the time a Bulgarian headwaiter, having played émigré politics, was murdered on a spring night in 1937. The couple, called Benoit, ordered the choucroute garnie and made small talk as they waited for their dinner to be served.
Then, Monsieur Benoit interrupted some story his wife had been telling, saying, “Aha, look who’s here,” and nodded his head at a man and a woman, accompanied by a beautiful Tervuren shepherd, who had just arrived.
“Who are they, dear?”
“Jean Leveque and his girlfriend.”
“And they are…?”
“Before the war, Leveque owned a weekly newspaper, the Chronique de Paris, never all that popular but it was entertaining. It had a good deal of sports news, bicycle races and prizefights, the horse-racing tips were second only to the Communist L’Humanité, the astrology column, Queen of the Stars it was called, was one of the best. Also, a good crossword puzzle, hard but not too hard.”
“It is once again published?”
“I believe so, though newsprint is still hard to come by.”
For a moment, Madame Benoit stared at the couple, then said, “You know, dear, dogs are always allowed in cafés but I’ve never seen one in a brasserie.”
“True, but this is a special dog. In 1941, Leveque led a resistance organization, using the alias Mathieu. When he was betrayed he escaped to London, where he worked on de Gaulle’s staff and was of such standing that, a month later, his Parisian girlfriend and dog were flown across the Channel so they could join him.”
“That de Gaulle!”
“A very independent man, the general.”
“Tell me, is this just a story? Or did it actually happen?”
Monsieur Benoit shrugged. “It’s generally believed but, these days, people tell all sorts of tales about the Occupation.”
“So, he was in the Resistance. And did he do well?”
“Yes, a hero, it’s said.”
BY ALAN FURST
Night Soldiers
Dark Star
The Polish Officer
The World at Night
Red Gold
Kingdom of Shadows
Blood of Victory
Dark Voyage
The Foreign Correspondent
The Spies of Warsaw
Spies of the Balkans
Mission to Paris
Midnight in Europe
A Hero of France
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ALAN FURST, widely recognized as the master of the historical spy novel, is the author of Midnight in Europe, Mission to Paris, and many other bestsellers. Born in New York, he lived for many years in Paris, and now lives on Long Island.
alanfurst.net
Facebook.com/AlanFurstBooks
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