Karl’s military demeanor slackened when he saw the beautiful Mademoiselle Colbert directed out of Gestapo headquarters with her arms tied behind her back. Roughly hustled along with her were three men unknown to him, equally bound. The two Gestapo men pushed the four captives none too kindly into the back of the waiting van especially equipped to transport persons of interest to various interrogation sites. Karl had to keep himself from coming to Mademoiselle Colbert’s aid, the impulse abandoned when he saw Colonel Albrecht coming down the steps wearing a face he knew only too well—tight, implacable, unyielding.

“Drive us to 45 Boulevard Raspail,” he instructed.

Karl reacted with surprise. “Not to 84 Avenue Foch?” Boulevard Raspail was the location of the Lutetia Hotel, former headquarters of the Abwehr. The cells in the SD headquarters contained means to induce prisoners to talk, whereas the Abwehr’s interview rooms did not, except for one, known as Cell Block B, that had been reconfigured to meet the standards of the SS.

“To Boulevard Raspail, Karl,” Derrick repeated tersely.

“Yes, Herr Colonel!” Hope sprang in Karl’s breast for Mademoiselle Colbert.

At the Lutetia Hotel, Karl stayed with the van, not daring to check on the prisoners inside, while Derrick took off through the arched entrance. Without breaking stride, he barked to his desk clerk that he wanted to see Major General Konrad March in his office immediately. The clerk had the former head of the Abwehr in tow within two minutes.

“He’s in a foul mood, Herr General,” the clerk warned Konrad as he knocked on his superior’s office door, and Derrick’s harsh command, “Komm herein!,” confirmed it. The colonel was in the process of lighting a cigarette. The sergeant beat a hasty retreat, closing the door quickly and quietly, and Konrad said, “I thought you’d given that up.”

“Certain situations call for the restoration of certain broken habits.” He offered Konrad his gold case of American Chesterfields.

Konrad declined. “What’s happened?”

“I’ve got your fisherman and son’s tutor outside in my van, Barnard Wagner and Claus Bauer.” He handed Konrad the three captives’ identity papers. “Major Schultz at Gestapo headquarters had them rounded up for interrogation. They were overheard speaking English together and were reported to the Gestapo by one of their informers posing as a blind beggar.”

Konrad sought a chair to sit down. “How did they happen to end up in your hands?” He wasn’t sure what to say.

Derrick pulled up a chair close to the general’s so they could speak in low tones. “They are Americans, members of the same cell working for the OSS, Konrad. Your fisherman and son’s tutor knew each other before they ever met at your house. Perhaps you figured that out.”