‘That was commanded by Captain Edouard, right?’

‘No, there was no Captain Edouard. It was a woman: Germaine.’

Marguerite nodded. ‘How come you joined the FTP: are you a communist?’

Irène shrugged, as if she’d not really thought about it. ‘Maybe… I was married to one, though. My husband, David, was a Polish Jew who’d moved here when he was a boy, and he was a party member. When the occupation started and the restrictions on Jews came into force, he insisted we get divorced so as to protect me. I didn’t want to, but he was adamant. I hoped we could escape from Paris, maybe head south, but it became impossible. I was working at the mairie here and continued to do so throughout the war. David moved around Paris and we met whenever we could. In July 1942, he was living in a room in the 9th, and that was when he was arrested in the grand rafle, the round-up of Jews. He was taken to the Vélodrome d’Hiver, and when I went there to find out what had happened to him, a police officer – a French police officer – told me he’d gone home to Poland and laughed.’

‘Auschwitz?’ It was the first time Hanne had spoken.

Irène nodded.

‘I was at Ravensbrück,’ said Hanne, taking the French girl’s hand.

‘You’re Jewish?’

‘No: I’m Danish. I was a British agent – with Richard.’ She turned to Prince and smiled. ‘So I understand, a little.’

Irène was lost in her thoughts for a while. ‘That was when I joined the FTP – a friend of David’s arranged it. I’d avoided being active before that because I didn’t want to do anything that could compromise David. After he was deported, I had nothing to lose. Because I worked in the mairie, I was able to access information that was useful to the resistance – addresses, that kind of thing. Now, you need to understand that most of the people you encountered today worked there during the war. They weren’t collaborators as such, but they were close to it, if you get my meaning. By working in the mairie they indirectly helped the Nazi occupation, so it’s no surprise that they feel sensitive about it now, which would explain why they’re reluctant to help you. They’re certainly reluctant to admit there was a Gestapo office there.

‘So there was one?’

‘Of course! The Gestapo had a presence in all the mairies; it was the best way of checking on people, getting addresses, accessing local information. They used them for the rounding-up of Jews and then carried on throughout the war. It was only a small office, but it was there on the third floor, overlooking rue Lecourbe.’

‘And Charles Girard – and the German, the Ferret?’

‘Ah – that is where I can help you. The man who ran the office went under the name of Charles Girard and he was something of an enigma. For a start, that was not his real name – this is not in itself unusual: many French collaborators used different identities. But it was hard to work out what nationality Girard was – his French was fluent and sounded like that of a native, but he also sounded like a German too. He was more like an office manager at first – and there were always one or two German officers based there. For a while, one of them was the man you describe – he was only ever known as the Ferret.’