According to the tour books, Les Halles had been a favorite hangout of homosexuals and lesbians ever since the French Revolution had eliminated laws declaring same-sex relations a criminal offense. While German violators of the Third Reich’s law against homosexuality would have been prosecuted, the occupying authorities pretty much turned a blind eye to French offenders. They believed the French were beyond saving from moral corruption anyway. Subsequently, tucked among more sedate establishments were bars, cafés, salons, and spas of long standing that catered exclusively to these clientele. It was toward one of these that Louis and his friend seemed headed.

Chris followed them to a small underground café in an alleyway and took the chance that after a few minutes he could enter without being noticed. As expected, the bar was dimly lit with low lights and the haze of cigarette smoke permanent to such establishments and beginning to fill with the lunch crowd. Chris managed to melt in, unseen by his target, and maneuvered within shooting range of his Minox. Less than sixty seconds later, the moment he had anticipated arrived. With a twinge of regret (a man’s love life should be his own affair, but his own life was in danger), he snapped a picture of Louis in a deep kiss with his lover. Chris took a number of shots more to make sure of the scene that would remove Louis from his life and slipped quietly out to grab a bus headed in the direction of a trusted photography studio that developed film with no questions asked. That afternoon an envelope containing photographs of Louis with his paramour along with an anonymous note of explanation was on the way to Gestapo headquarters at 11 Rue de Saussaies in the eighth arrondissement.

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

Victoria left for L’Ecole d’Escrime Français on Sunday worn out from sleepless nights and nerves strung tightly as fiddle strings. She had still not heard a peep from Colonel Derrick Albrecht. In the past, to remind her of her Sunday appointment with the colonel, a message was left with the concierge, but none had been relayed for today. Did that mean he had no plans to show up? The idea that he wouldn’t, and the fear or hope that accompanied it, was laid aside when Victoria rounded the corner of the fencing school and saw the colonel’s staff car parked in its usual spot and Karl behind the wheel. Derrick Albrecht had arrived early. Did that deviation from his normal routine mean anything? Seeing her come into view through his side window, the colonel’s driver hopped out to open the school door for her. “Good afternoon, Mademoiselle Colbert,” he said. “A lovely day for a change.”

“Yes, it is.” Victoria agreed with a quick search of his stolid face and saw nothing that warned of trouble ahead in the fencing hall. “Merci,” she said.

“Always my pleasure, mademoiselle.”