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conductor had passed the word along?
    â€˜Generalmajor, where were you last Monday evening?’
    The eleventh, the dinner party in Saint-Cloud. ‘Not with Nana, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
    When no comment was made by St-Cyr, Wehrle fussed and finally passed a worried hand over a deeply furrowed brow. ‘Look, I was here in Paris. I can’t be seen with her, can I, even at a function like that? How could I be? Word would soon get around and the clients would only become suspicious of the SS or the Gestapo, or those of the rue Lauriston interfering. The people I have to deal with are nervous enough as it is.’
    The rue Lauriston, the French Gestapo … ‘How long has your association with her been going on?’
    â€˜Two years. She …’ Wehrle threw Mademoiselle Thélème a look of anguish the woman could not fail to notice. This caused her to pause in her response to Max Engelmann and the Berliner turned swiftly to glare suspiciously at them.
    â€˜She …?’ asked St-Cyr, dragging the victim back to things.
    â€˜She’d had word at last from a source she had been trying to secure for some time. Nana’s not just a singer. She and her mother run a very successful school of popular dance. You’d be surprised how many lonely men want to learn to dance or to just be with someone for an hour or two. These days more than ever.’
    And so much for her working six nights a week at two clubs and spending all the rest of her time with her son.
    â€˜Nana’s patient and yes, because of the villa in Saint-Cloud and her life in Paris before the war, she knows a great many people. Even prospectors want to learn to dance and listen to gypsy music when on infrequent visits.’
    â€˜Prospectors?’
    â€˜A former prospector of the Congo, South Africa and the Niger. Illegal stones then, in the thirties, illegal now. Nearly a full kilo of crushing boart – superb in itself. Samples from a prospect he still remains excited about. But …’ Wehrle took a moment to nervously run a finger through the dust on the coffee table. ‘But 1800 carats of mixed stones, mostly industrials suitable for cutting tools but among them, 657 carats of Jagers , Top Capes and Capes. The first of these are good, clear white stones with a bluish tinge due to fluorescence; the latter two are also flawless, but with faint yellowish tints. It was an exceptional haul and well worth the trip.’
    The truth at last. ‘And when was this trip made?’ hazarded the Sûreté.
    â€˜Nana can’t have been involved. Damn you, how many times must I say it?’
    â€˜The trip, please?’
    â€˜Last Tuesday. To Tours.’
    â€˜Pardon?’
    â€˜To Tours, damn it!’
    â€˜Name and address?’
    Wehrle sighed. ‘Émile Jacqmain, a Belgian, a Walloon who has lived in France since 1930 when not abroad in Africa.’
    The brandy and the cigarette were savoured, the Sûreté waiting expectantly like a bullfrog for its dragonfly.
    â€˜The house is on place Plumereau. The flat is right above a butcher shop. Jacqmain can’t have had anything to do with this. It’s ridiculous you should think he could. I checked him out thoroughly. I don’t as a rule walk into any of these arrangements carrying a million or so francs and not examine the credentials well beforehand and, I might add, discreetly.’
    â€˜Good.’
    â€˜Good? Is that all you have to say?’
    Cigarette ash was tipped into an empty coffee cup. ‘Did Mademoiselle Thélème travel to Tours on Tuesday so as to pave the way for you?’
    â€˜She’d have needed a laissez-passer . I’d have had to sign for her.’
    â€˜And did you?’
    â€˜Yes but … but we couldn’t celebrate until this evening.’
    â€˜But I thought you said you couldn’t be seen together?’
    â€˜We can’t, but he insisted