by Pirate Irwin
“So, Lafarge, with respect to your own case obviously we can devote more manpower to it now. However, we can talk about that in the morning. For the moment I have another more important duty for you,” said Pinault.
Lafarge wanted to say to his superiors ‘can’t it wait I have my pregnant fiancée back at home and I would like to be with her’. However, he knew this news might not be what they wished for on such a day, so he kept silent and waited for Pinault to tell him what ‘his duty’ was.
“Well later it will be a social duty as we will join the men in the café, but professionally speaking and as you are my most effective interrogator, by reputation as well as in my own personal experience, I want you to join me in the first interrogation of Petiot,” said Pinault.
Lafarge thanked the stars he had his desk behind him for he went weak when he heard what Pinault wanted him to do. They didn’t notice him staggering back a few inches so his behind came to rest against the ledge of the desk.
Lafarge knew he was cornered because he could not refuse a direct order from Pinault, especially as Luizet was there. He desperately searched for a way to extricate himself from the situation but he couldn’t see a way out.
He did try, though. Having failed with the ‘I have had too much to drink’ and ‘I don’t know the case as well as the others’ he resorted to one fact that might impress them with his being honest about it.
“Well I don’t know if I would be the best person to sit and question him as my wife and my children were patients of his,” said Lafarge.
Luizet and Pinault looked surprised at this revelation but the latter then let out a belly laugh.
“Well, they survived didn’t they!” he said jocularly and slapped Lafarge on the shoulder.
Lafarge was shocked at Pinault’s tactless remark and the stony silence that followed resulted in his immediate superior mumbling an abject apology for the tastelessness of the joke.
Lafarge, though, decided to play it for its whole worth.
“Well yes, I don’t think his finger was on the button that released the torpedo,” he said drily.
Luizet and Pinault smiled awkwardly at his comment before the latter gave him his answer about knowing the prisoner and a potential conflict of interests.
“Well, Lafarge, usually I would agree with you and allow you to sit this one out. But these are not normal times – we are down to our bare bones even with the arrival of several new faces, and while they are welcome they lack experience,” said Pinault.
“Thus I need you more than ever to conduct the questioning, especially when it is a man of this intelligence and malevolence.
“If he can infiltrate the very inquiry into which he is the central person of interest, for that is what he managed under his assumed persona of Captain Henri Valeri, he can certainly manipulate most of the detectives here.
“Besides you are presently working on bringing to justice a man whose wife you are conducting an affair with and if that is not a conflict of interests then I ask you what is!
“So, to put it bluntly, if you wish to continue with seeing Madame de Cambedessus then you will obey my order and that of the Prefect and interrogate Petiot,” added Pinault staring Lafarge squarely in the eye with a look that told the Chief Inspector ‘don’t you dare contradict me’.
Lafarge nodded and then he thought he had come up with a masterstroke of a compromise.
“Well I am looking forward to having the honour of interrogating him with you, sir. Nevertheless I would like to conduct the first session with him aided by that fellow who captured him … what’s his name? … oh yes, Captain Simenon,” said Lafarge.
Luizet shot an anxious glance at Pinault, who also looked bemused by Lafarge’s request.
“It’s Simonin, Lafarge, not Simenon. Well I’m not sure we can allow that really as protocol in terms of the arrest has not exactly been followed. I mean the chap isn’t one of us so in theory he shouldn’t even have laid a hand on good Captain Valeri,” said Pinault looking rather uncomfortable as he made his revelation.
Lafarge took some pleasure out of the awkward situation the police found themselves in, but also shook his head in wonderment at the unnecessary angst it was causing Pinault and Luizet.
The essential thing was that the most sought-after common criminal – for he was different to those who had committed heinous crimes by the authority of the state – had finally been brought to heel.
Only a really smart lawyer would be able to pick up on the intricacies of the illegality of the arrest and there were not many of those either alive, in the country or who had not tainted their reputations.
“Well, as you said yourself, sir, these are not normal times so I wouldn’t beat yourself up over the way the arrest took place. On the other hand it might be worth having an intelligence officer in the interrogation room hence my suggestion.
“It would also allow you to perhaps either carry on the celebrations – good for the morale of the men if you join in with them – or tidy up the paperwork.
“I will give you a full report. At the same time I will send the captain back to his headquarters an extremely content man and only too happy to sing our praises in allowing him to sit in on the interrogation,” said Lafarge flashing Pinault one of his most disarming smiles.
Luizet and Pinault looked at each other as Lafarge gripped the cognac bottle, which was behind him on the desk, hoping for a positive response. To his relief it came.
“I don’t see why not, Lafarge. Perhaps it wouldn’t be a bad thing if I join the men in celebrating and you and Simonin conduct the initial questioning.
“So go over and introduce yourself and you take the lead role in the session, for we don’t want our intelligence colleagues getting it into their heads that we are incapable of even interrogating our prisoners!” said Pinault adding a light-hearted note.
Lafarge released his grip on the bottle, feeling hugely relieved and justifiably happy with himself for convincing Pinault of the wisdom of his argument, uncorked the bottle and poured a glass for each of them.
They drank a toast to each other and to Simonin. There was no mention, even cryptically, of Simonin’s war record which made it clear to Lafarge neither Luizet nor Pinault were aware of the hero’s dark past. So much the better – it would make his task of suborning his ‘partner’ that much easier.
Simonin, who was a little the worse the wear himself, was only too happy to aid Lafarge.
Lafarge led the stockily built intelligence officer up the stairs to one of the interrogation rooms and Simonin expressed surprise when he saw it was empty.
His surprise turned to angry incomprehension when Lafarge pinned him against the grimy tobacco-stained wall, which was covered in dried blood and other bodily fluids.
Simonin, who was an unprepossessing sort with pig-like eyes, a snub nose and thinning brown hair which he tried to disguise by brushing it over his crown, tried to speak but was powerless to do so with Lafarge’s hand round his throat.
Eventually Lafarge relaxed his grip a little lest Simonin pass out.
“I know all about you, Soutif, and your disgusting past,” said Lafarge.
Simonin shot him a pleading look which provoked Lafarge to knee him in the groin, then stepping back so Simonin could slide down to the floor and lie moaning and clutching his nether regions.
“Yes, you disgusting piece of rubbish, you were recognised in there. Your moment of glory and it is tarnished forever because someone who had to enforce your criminal orders is also here to tell the tale,” said Lafarge sizing up to kick him again which prompted Simonin to whimper even more.
“Please, please, Chief Inspector, you don’t have to kick me. I know what you must think of me but all I thought of at the time was I was doing right, implementing the orders from a sovereign government at the behest of the country that defeated us and occupied us,” he whined, snot streaming from his nose.
“I am sure you too had to do things you wished you hadn�
�t had to. But orders are orders after all,” he added casting a hopeful glance up at Lafarge.
If Simonin wished for some sympathy from Lafarge he had sorely misjudged his mood. In any case if the spy had done his homework on the senior detectives he would have known the Chief Inspector did anything but obey the rules and orders handed down to him.
Lafarge refrained from kicking him again and instead offered him a hand so he could get back to his feet. However, as he rose back up Lafarge once again pinned him against the wall.
“Right, just so that we get things clear before I call for Petiot to be brought in, I have an offer to make to you,” said Lafarge.
“You will remain Captain Simonin in my eyes and forever more only if you swear anything compromising regarding myself that might emerge from this interrogation or claims that could arise in the future of what was said here elicits a firm denial from you. Are we clear?” asked Lafarge.
Simonin, scared and fearful of what the consequences would be if he did otherwise, nodded enthusiastically.
Lafarge didn’t feel any joy. He felt quite the opposite. Because of a decent gesture to save a man’s life he found himself in such a dichotomy and it made him nauseous he had had to swallow hard and make a compromise with such an awful human as Soutif in order to save himself. It was a painful but necessary remedy.
Lafarge stood back and gestured for Simonin to take a chair. The four in the room were all rickety basic wooden kitchen chairs, with all but one, missing their back rests.
The broken off pieces had been used to beat the hell out of suspects by the Brigade Spéciales during Bousquet’s time. Now they had been removed by some of his colleagues who were glad to have something they could burn in their fireplaces at home and keep them warm if only for a short time.
He called to the guard outside to go and get the prisoner ‘Doctor Petiot aka Captain Valeri’ and he returned to take his seat alongside Simonin. His beaming smile as he was feted and applauded for his miraculous apprehending of the suspect had, to Lafarge’s great satisfaction, been replaced by one of sullen, seething discontent.
Lafarge didn’t have any regrets about strong-arming Soutif, for violence was the only thing he and his like-minded fellows understood. When the tables were turned on them it revealed they were in reality, cowards, and their only wish was to survive no matter what they compromised over.
Lafarge knew the sulking and pouting were an act; Simonin would think of it as defiance, but soon enough it would be replaced by an innate gratitude he would be allowed to live and not be thrown to the mercy of either those who sought revenge in Brittany nor the courts.
No, he would live and be able to dine out on being the man who caught Petiot. On the other hand, Lafarge consoled himself Soutif might also weigh up the risks and disappear, afraid the Chief Inspector would not honour his side of the bargain and either come after him himself or conveniently let slip to other interested parties his whereabouts.
That was for the future, but for Lafarge part of his past was about to confront him and he felt a nervous stirring in his stomach at the thought of it.
He turned and saw Petiot entering. He was handcuffed but there was an air of manic defiance in his brown eyes, accentuated by a brown beard that would have done justice to one of the Old Testament prophets such was its richness.
He felt a glimmer of recognition register on Petiot’s face as he stared at him; the intensity of the look was too much and he looked away until the doctor was seated opposite them.
He was dressed in ill-fitting civilian clothes – the uniform he had been wearing had been forcibly removed to try and diminish the embarrassment that he had managed to con his way into the FFI – with the cuffs of the jacket hitched up over his wrists.
However, it did not seem to worry him too much as he rested his manacled hands on the wooden table and stared first at Lafarge and then at Simonin. A smile creased his lips as he turned to Lafarge, who shuddered as he recalled the last time he had seen him at his charnel house in Rue Sueur as he handed over de Chastelain to the man he thought would be his saviour and in fact had been his executioner.
Lafarge offered him a lit cigarette which he took and puffed away at. The Chief Inspector allowed the silence to continue while Simonin fidgeted beside him.
Lafarge didn’t know whether it was because Simonin wished to get the interrogation underway or that he wanted to leave, but whatever the reason he wasn’t going to give him the pleasure. He wanted to let Petiot think he was in control, for then he might get cocky and reveal more than he had wished to.
Petiot finished his cigarette, stubbed it out with some force on the floor, and glanced round the bare, windowless room, perhaps a little like the soulless place where his victims had ended their lives, Lafarge mused.
“So, gentlemen, it appears you have finally got your chicken into the coop,” said Petiot, his eyes flickering from one to the other, his voice firm.
Lafarge said nothing and placed his hand on Simonin’s arm to warn him not to say a word.
Petiot smiled and folded the fingers of both hands on the table.
“I see. You have caught me and now you are so surprised at doing so you are lost for words. Well this is all a waste of time then, if I am to be the only one to talk, and I don’t intend to carry on forever, you might as well have me taken back to my cell,” he said.
“All I’m prepared to say for the moment is to congratulate you, sir, on finally catching me although I am surprised that you didn’t put a bullet in me. It would have made a lot of people very happy,” added Petiot addressing Simonin, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat as the good doctor fixed him with a stare.
Lafarge tensed at this remark, instantly thinking he figured among those people. Petiot must have sensed this because he laughed, his eyes full of malevolent merriment.
“Oh no, not you, Mister Lafarge, you always paid your bills on time. I have no argument with you. By the way how is your family, your lovely wife in particular,” asked Petiot.
Lafarge was taken aback not only by the warmth in Petiot’s voice but also the apparent sincerity with which Petiot had asked after his family. There was no hint of him trying to provoke his interrogator. He really didn’t know what had taken place.
Lafarge told him and he could see the surprise register on Petiot’s face. He wouldn’t go so far as to say it transmogrified into sadness even though Petiot offered his condolences. He accepted with as much good grace as he could muster when they were offered by a mass murderer.
However, Lafarge sensed there was now a strong rapport, for the reaction his loss had provoked in Petiot, to take advantage of the situation.
“So, Doctor Petiot, in my capacity not as a patient but as Chief Inspector Lafarge I must ask you if you are aware of the seriousness of the charges. It is quite staggering the number of murders you stand accused of,” said Lafarge, wishing to add ‘including someone I handed to you’, but he refrained from doing so as Petiot had surprisingly not referred to it … yet.
Petiot yawned, not from tiredness it appeared to Lafarge but through boredom.
“Really, Chief Inspector, you should be praising me not accusing me,” he said, drumming his fingers on the table.
“While you were out performing your duties, whether it was for Vichy or for the Resistance, I was doing my part for the liberation of the country,” he added.
Lafarge looked at Simonin, who appeared as surprised at Petiot’s claim.
“What do you mean by that Doctor?” asked Lafarge.
Petiot sighed and yawned again.
“You will learn that you have made a serious mistake in arresting me. Once you look into the victims as you call them, you will discover they were undesirable; they were people who profited from the Nazi Occupation and either fell out with them or with Bonny and Lafont.
“In other words they would be standing trial and facing certain death now. I merely saved the courts time, and lord knows they must be overloaded with cases a
t this time – and it will only grow. You should be thanking me, not accusing me.
“I was a hidden weapon in the Resistance’s armoury. After all who would suspect a mild-mannered doctor like me? No, even the most hardened of criminals found me the most accommodating of accomplices in providing them with an escape route.
“More fool them!” he said coldly, flashing a grin which made Lafarge shiver such was the nonchalance with which he did it.
“So if that is the case then why do you say a lot of people would have preferred it if Soutif, sorry Simonin, here had put a bullet in you?” asked Lafarge, enjoying the moment of discomfort he had caused his ‘partner’, who reacted by kicking his ankle.
Petiot smiled sardonically.
“Well, Chief Inspector, you are an intelligent man. I was virtually a neighbour of the Gestapo’s and I wasn’t too far away from Lauriston, so I know of a lot of people who would prefer their roles in collaborating weren’t exposed.
“Better that I die without being asked awkward questions, than face a trial where I may prove an unnecessary irritant to those who are trying to invent legends round their war exploits,” he said.
Lafarge decided there and then that he wasn’t going to enter into a debate over the issue, because that was exactly what Petiot was wishing for, but to ask him a simple yes or no question.
“So, Doctor Petiot, this will be your line of defence, that you murdered common criminals – sorry, people who would now be enemies of the state – and that you did it in the name of the Resistance. Am I right?” asked Lafarge straining to keep calm, for he found his excuse ludicrous and disgusting.
