Gypsy Read Online Free PDF Page B

friends of friends?’ he asked, pleasantly enough.
    â€˜Collaborators, yes. Some of the big boys.’
    â€˜In the butter-eggs-and-cheese racket?’ went on Kohler.
    The black market. ‘Perhaps. I really wouldn’t know about those types.’
    â€˜The rue Lauriston?’ he asked.
    The French Gestapo. ‘Yes, perhaps those also.’
    The Gypsy had been seen in Tours heading for Paris at 1030 hours, 14 January. The dinner party had been on the eleventh. ‘Where’s the villa?’ he demanded.
    â€˜In Saint-Cloud.’
    â€˜ Pas mal, pas mal , mademoiselle. Saved up your sous , did you, to buy it?’
    â€˜ Yes !’
    â€˜Present address?’
    â€˜It’s on my papers.’
    â€˜Just give it to me.’
    â€˜Above the Club Monseigneur, on the rue d’Amsterdam.’
    The quartier de l’Europe and perhaps the dullest, noisiest, ugliest of neighbourhoods in Paris. ‘That’s quite a comedown.’
    â€˜But a lot closer to work.’
    â€˜Were there any other singers present at the dinner party?’
    Ah maudit ! why could he not have left it alone? ‘No. No, there were no others. Not that I knew of.’
    Kohler saw her throw him a look so poignant he winced and felt a fool. There had been others, and now she knew he was as aware of it as she and so was everyone else. ‘The coffee’s here,’ he said. ‘I thought a little brandy might help, Herr Max, and found they had a bottle of Asbach Uralt rucked away for connoisseurs like ourselves. There’s some Beck’s Bier in case the dust has made you really thirsty.’
    The Ritz was full of high-ranking German officers on leave or stationed in Paris, and had been since the Defeat, hence the availability of the refreshments, among other things.
    â€˜You think of everything.’
    â€˜We try to, my partner and I. It’s a habit we’ve grown accustomed to.’
    Not one to waste time, Engelmann closed with Nana Thélème and was soon getting his turn at the wheel. The Generalmajor remained agitated – Wehrle knew Berlin weren’t going to like the loss. Would he be held responsible? Would restitution be demanded in hugely increased requests? Absolutely! But … but was there something else …? Only time would tell. ‘Louis, our visitor from Berlin is trouble. He’s not happy. Something has upset him.’
    â€˜A robbery he was told of but not quite!’ snorted the Sûreté.
    Kohler offered a cigarette, cadged from the Generalmajor. ‘Berlin are never happy. Hey, we’ll sort the son of a bitch out before things get heavy.’
    There was a sigh that, after working with Louis since September 1940, Kohler knew only too well.
    â€˜Let us hope there is time, mon vieux . The cigarette is perfect with real coffee, real sugar and milk. You’re learning.’
    Kohler humbled himself. Sometimes Louis needed this. ‘A key was available, Chief. Probable entry was witnessed at 8.15 p.m., exit at 8.47. Our Gypsy knew the Generalmajor would be playing shuttlecocks, but he took the trouble to find the pistol, uniform and attaché case of a Wehrmacht Hauptmann.’
    The coffee was spilled as the cigarette was stubbed out. ‘Why didn’t you say so before you gave me a moment to myself? Have we a body on our hands, Hermann? A German body?’
    If so, reprisals would have to be made by the Kommandant von Gross Paris and others, namely Hermann’s boss. Three, five … ten would be taken from the cells or streets and shot.
    â€˜It’s too early to say, but the son of a bitch must have got the uniform somewhere.’
    â€˜Was he tall, blue-eyed, blond and forty years old? Handsome, distinguished, and very much the ladies’ man?’
    â€˜It was him all right. The whip scars on the face are much tidier than mine. A Dutchman, the femme de chambre thought.’
    One could nearly always count on