Chapter 22
1071 Words
Emilie sat at an outdoor table in her favorite café on Boulevard Saint-Germain. She sipped her coffee, listening intently to Louie Bassett. She had told him about following Jacques, and what she had found in his study.
“Are you now convinced I am who I claim?’ he asked.
She hesitated. “I’m more convinced than I was. I’ll feel better when telephone lines are restored, and I can talk to my family.”
“They will tell you that I’m your designated contact. It should come as no surprise. You knew this day was coming.”
Her face firmed. “I did know this day would come. But I didn’t know you would be part of it.”
He eyed the patrons, his gaze shifting to passing pedestrians and traffic on the street. “Are you ready to cooperate?” he asked.
“I would prefer to speak to my family first.”
He c****d his head. “Even with what you now know about your husband?”
At first, she didn’t reply, reliving the image of Jacques hugging another woman. It could have been innocent. But not when combined with what she found in his study. “I was surprised he had a lover.”
“It was something you needed to see.”
Emilie tried to put the pieces together. “I never expected Jacques to betray me. But between the woman, identity papers, and money, it made me realize the possibility exists.”
Louie frowned, eyeing a waiter with a hint of suspicion. “Sometimes we refuse to believe what we see.”
“Perhaps I should have listened when you first approached me,” she muttered, beginning to doubt herself.
“What was more persuasive, the mistress or the hidden documents?”
She sipped her coffee, eyeing those nearby. “The mistress and forged identity papers are personal—the physical descriptions match them perfectly. It’s likely an affair. He leaves me, and they run away together. But the documents are political, and I suspect very valuable to the German war effort.”
“What about the money?”
“It shocked me most,” she said. “There’s only one explanation. Jacques is selling secrets.”
“I suspect he is. Regardless of his role in French intelligence, he would never have such huge sums of cash.”
She nodded, forced to agree. “But he’s so patriotic. It doesn’t make any sense.”
“He plays a role, just as you do. Part of the danger you face.”
She still didn’t understand what he meant. “I do have questions.”
“As anyone would,” he replied. “Some I can answer, some I cannot.”
She paused, pensive. “Who has fake identity papers—for themselves and their mistress—unless they’re involved in a sinister plot? Where did the money come from, especially large sums in different currencies? Did he accumulate it over time, or is it to aid his escape? What’s in the sealed envelopes stamped secret?”
“Now you understand why we need to know all that he does. And we need to know before he flees. This is why I approached you. Timing is important.”
She glanced at a bus stopping across the street, students getting off to attend classes at the Sorbonne. “I knew someone would come. I just didn’t know when.”
“You are German,” he reminded her. “And you were prepared to prove it. You’ve known since you met him that you might be forced to betray him. Now is the time.”
She sipped her coffee, not sure how to proceed.
He watched her curiously. “You have doubts?”
She shrugged. “It’s difficult to believe. I suspected nothing. I thought it would be hard to betray him—if the time ever came for me to do so. And all the while he planned to betray me.”
“Now that you know, it makes it easier.”
She didn’t reply, eyeing a*****e across the street, a shop that sold radios. It was doing a brisk business.
“What else is your husband involved in?” he asked, leaning closer.
“I know a little,” she admitted with some hesitation. “Something I overheard.”
“I suspect you know more than you realize,” he said, coaxing her.
Emilie knew it was time. She fixed her gaze on Louie and began. “A woman named Camille came to see him. She’s French intelligence, stationed in Paris, but was in Tournai.”
He leaned closer. “She’s a contact?”
Emilie shook her head. “No, it was different. They didn’t know each other. Jacques was expecting someone else, someone older, more experienced.”
He eyed those nearby, ensuring no one listened. “We know Jacques is working on something critical, but we don’t know what it is. What else did you hear?”
“He gave her an assignment in Antwerp.”
Louie arched his eyebrows. “Diamonds?”
She nodded. “Something for radar. A cache of rare industrial diamonds.”
Louie sat back in the chair. “The English were tasked with getting all diamonds out of Antwerp, not French intelligence. But some were left behind, the best of the best.”
“It seems this woman Camille has unique talents, although I’m not sure what they are. She was supposed to meet a man named Roger—I think he was from London—get him into the vault, steal the diamonds, and take him to the port.”
“How do you know Roger was from London?”
Emilie hesitated, recalling what she overheard. “I don’t,” she admitted. “I only heard Jacques say that he was taking the diamonds to London.”
Louie eyed Emilie closely. “We have to find those diamonds, no matter what the cost.”
“Will they impact the war?”
“Absolutely,” he said. “They’re critical, which is why everyone wants them.”
“Do you think Camille has them?”
“Somebody does,” he replied. “And she seems most likely. You need to get all the information you possibly can. The entire war hinges on your efforts.”
Emilie sighed. “I suppose I have to betray Jacques before he betrays me.”
- Writer
