Chapter 27
H einrich hadn’t taken a woman to his private club in St. Malo before, but this young French woman was special.
He couldn’t yet put his finger on why, but he would.
That was one reason he had been moved to invite her to join him for lunch.
Heinrich prided himself on being an expert reader of character, and he could see this girl was unique.
She’d caught his attention in the bookshop, but when he returned for another visit, hoping to see her, she wasn’t there, and his intense disappointment had surprised him.
The blonde girl, who ran the shop for her parents, had answered his questions and showed him books that complied with the Nazi desired reading list. He had scanned the shop for signs of banned books and had been satisfied the business was being run in accordance with the new rules.
His Aryanisation report had been filed, and he was now free to focus fully on overseeing Hitler’s new directive and the construction of the Atlantikwall.
It was time to celebrate his successful completion of the important project and the commencement of another, so he was in a particularly expansive mood.
As he entered the opulent dining room with Lizzie, he caught the envious glances from others who he imagined would kill to have such a fine woman by their side.
He stood taller and held himself straighter, feeling like a giant with her on his arm.
They were seated at his permanently reserved table by the window, which commanded, just as he had promised, the most glorious sea views and an impressive vista of the majestic walled city.
‘It is beautiful, is it not, Rose?’ he said, gazing out over the vast expanse of choppy green-blue waves.
Lizzie said the view was breathtaking, and they were lucky to be in such a beautiful city.
‘You must miss Paris. I admit I’m a lover of Paris, and at first, I thought I would miss it dearly when I was posted here.’
‘And don’t you?’ Lizzie asked, smoothly side-stepping his question.
‘Not as much as I thought. I rather like the peace, and we have these views from the mansion, so even though it’s rather provincial here, the beauty makes up for the loss of city culture.’
Lizzie was reminded of a conversation with another high-ranking officer on a previous mission.
It was the most dangerous part of her job, but also the most effective way to breach German security and extract intelligence.
She ran through the details of her cover story in her mind, ready for any questions he might throw at her.
Paris wasn’t a problem because she had spent time there on missions and knew the city well. She told herself to stay calm and the lunch would pass in due course, and then she wouldn’t need to see him again unless he showed up during the work with Uncle Charles.
‘In what part of Paris do you live?’
At that point a waiter appeared, and Heinrich was distracted from his questioning and ordered a long list of dishes without looking at the menu or consulting Lizzie. The waiter scrambled to note them down and rushed off to place the order and search for the wine.
‘We will have a little celebration, Rose. It has been a most satisfying week for me. In fact, I visited your friend’s little bookshop and signed off on the Aryanisation project.
And with your company, it’s going to be an even better afternoon.
Wait until the wine arrives—it’s like tasting pure heaven. ’
When the waiter returned, Lizzie glimpsed the 1929 Chateau Lafite Rothschild label as he brandished the bottle, and Heinrich sampled a splash of the ruby red wine. The hypocrisy was astounding, and if she weren’t witnessing it herself, she would struggle to believe it.
They were to celebrate the Aryanisation of Jewish businesses with a Jewish wine.
Heinrich smacked his lips and indicated that the wine met his approval, and the waiter poured a large glass for them both.
‘ Santé ,’ he said, raising his glass and chinking it with Lizzie’s, revealing his perfect white teeth. ‘To your full recovery and continued good health, mademoiselle.’
Lizzie sipped the wine, which was indeed every bit as delicious as he had promised.
He sniffed his glass, with an expression of ecstasy on his face. ‘The bouquet is intoxicating, is it not? Do you detect the blackcurrent?’
Lizzie rested her glass on the starched white tablecloth and moved back slightly as the waiter laid cutlery and more glasses on the table as though it were a banquet.
She nodded and tried to let the hypocrisy slip by unremarked, but she found herself speaking before she could stop herself.
‘I am surprised, Heir Alder. I would have thought you wouldn’t risk polluting your palate with a wine produced by an inferior race.
The Rothschild label is Jewish, or have I misunderstood? ’
Heinrich chastised her for not using his first name but was delighted by her bold remark.
‘I knew you were special,’ he said, wagging his finger.
‘Such a fine inquiring mind. It is not often I meet a woman of such exquisite beauty and admirable intellect. One without the other, perhaps, but not both.’
Lizzie released a tortured breath.
He continued, oblivious to her tumultuous feelings.
‘Your comment is a worthy one. In other circumstances, it might be the case, but you see this wine is the spoils of a valiantly fought war. Its confiscation represents the very purification of France, and indeed the whole of Europe. No one denies that these parasites have their uses. They are inferior as a race but excel in business. After all the harm they have done to Germany, it is the very least we may extract from their devious endeavours.’
Lizzie controlled her face from reflecting the disgust she felt at his display of ideological superiority and how he so artfully twisted the circumstances to suit his murderous creed.
Fortunately, the dishes started flowing at that moment, and she was saved from responding. The food was divine and better than any she had eaten since Vichy France, when Jack’s Uncle Luc had been forced to entertain a member of the Gestapo.
Now she searched the dining room several times and was relieved not to spot any familiar faces and was grateful for her dyed black hair.
Running into a German who recognised her from a previous operation would be fatal, and as the war dragged on, it was more likely, but if she let herself think about that, she wouldn’t be able to function.
‘You eat like a little bird, Rose. Come now, surely you may eat more than this. You have a wonderful figure, but a little more meat on you wouldn’t hurt. We must fatten you up. What was your health issue? I trust it is behind you now?’
‘It was a serious bout of flu, nothing more, but it got the better of me, which is why my mother thought it would be good for me to recuperate here for a short time.’
Her SS dinner companion raised one blond eyebrow. ‘Not too short a time, I hope. I shall be desolate if you leave before we get better acquainted.’
Lizzie kept an amiable smile on her lips, but fear surged through her again. ‘I’m unsure when I’ll return to Paris, but I imagine I won’t be here too long. My family needs me.’
‘That is devastating news indeed. Then we must make the most of the time we have together.’
‘It is kind of you, Heinrich, but I am here to rest and see friends.’
‘I understand. I do hope you’ll make some time for us to see each other again, though.’
It was clear he was a persistent man who was not used to being rejected, and Lizzie would need to tread lightly or risk the consequences.
Heinrich poured more wine for them both and seemed to be having the most fabulous time. All the dishes looked delicious, but it was difficult for her to relax to enjoy them. Her stomach danced with nerves, and she had to force every bite down her throat, and barely tasted the food.
When she eventually gave up trying to eat everything that lay before her, the waiter cleared the dishes and Heinrich ordered dessert and coffee.
A lavish tray heaped with exquisite desserts arrived, the likes of which she hadn’t seen since before the war.
Lizzie tasted the glossy Tarte Tatin, an upside-down apple tart, which melted in her mouth.
There was a mountain of chocolate profiteroles, a favourite from her childhood, Crème Br?lée, and a chocolate mousse, which Heinrich pronounced divine.
He held out his spoon for her to taste it too.
‘Please, you really must try this mousse, Rose. It’s the best I’ve had. So light and fluffy.’
Lizzie stared at the chocolate coated spoon, taken aback. It would be rude not to accept, so she took the spoon and acted as though it wasn’t an intimate gesture, agreeing the mousse was gorgeous.
It made her tastebuds sing, but even as she ate the chocolate desert, she thought of how many rationed eggs and luxury ingredients were used to make this abundance of dishes they had dined on today that were easily enough to feed a large family more lavishly than they had eaten in years.
The mousse stuck in her throat, and she declined to eat any more, saying she was full after such a big meal.
Lizzie tried to imagine what she might say if she were just an ordinary young French woman in this position.
‘It is generous of you, Heinrich, but you must remember us French live on a severely rationed diet. I’m not used to such quantities of rich food.’
‘Of course, you are right. How insensitive of me,’ he said, pushing the dessert tray to one side and producing a silver cigarette case, engraved with the crest of an eagle. ‘Might you join me in a cigarette?’
Lizzie accepted, thinking she could do with it to calm her jagged nerves. He leaned over to light her cigarette, and she held it carefully between thumb and forefinger in the French pinch that Jack had taught her.
In the early days she had been a terrible smoker and had only learnt because he told her it was a useful tool in spycraft. Practice had improved her technique and now she smoked with the nonchalance of a typical French woman, savouring the act whilst they talked.
Since Jack had been away, she’d fallen into smoking more to pass the time. She felt closer to him when she pictured him smoking in the Highlands and often daydreamed of their future together whilst sitting in his flat, drinking tea from his cup.
The dramatic contrast between the blond regal Eagle, and Jack, her black-haired noble Raven, was acute.
It struck her that both handsome, powerful men were driven by a purpose for which they would fight to the death.
Jack was willing to die to free the world of the Nazi regime, and by what she had heard so far, it seemed Heinrich was willing to do the same for his vision of the Thousand-Year Reich.
It was the ultimate battle of good versus evil. Light versus dark. The intelligent Raven pitted against the hunting Eagle. Who would prevail?
Lizzie shuddered at the thought of the two facing each other. Thank God Jack wasn’t by her side on this mission, or things would be taking a very different turn that could prove deadly. This man and everything he stood for would inflame Jack.
‘These are excellent cigarettes,’ she remarked.
‘My favourite German brand. I have them specially imported. I can arrange a supply for you if that would please you, Rose.’
Lizzie just smiled and the smoke curled between them forming a hazy curtain giving her a moment to think how to handle this opportunity to get closer to an SS officer who had the keys to Hitler’s construction secrets in the palm of his hand.
‘Charles is an excellent surveyor,’ she said.
‘Good to hear I selected wisely. The photographs and reports were first class. I understand you assisted.’
Lizzie nodded, affecting modesty. It wouldn’t do to be too brash. ‘I enjoyed the work which was why I accompanied him today. I find your plans for the Atlantic Wall fascinating.’
Heinrich puffed up at the compliment. Regal Eagle or not, he wasn’t immune to the praise of a beautiful woman. She had pinpointed his weak spot.
Lizzie’s strategy to gain access to the highest levels of German intelligence revealed itself. Her heart thudded faster at what she was about to do. She must overcome her aversion to her lunch companion and encourage his attentions.
Jack would want to protect her and order her to step down immediately.
But she knew in her gut this was the time to step up. Fear could not rule her, or she would fail in her mission.
‘I would love to see you again, Heinrich,’ she said, extinguishing her cigarette and tilting her head to one side.