them was new to the job-but he had not asked about the Frenchwomen cleaners.
He came back down the stairs and met her at ground level. “Why were you in the basement?” he asked her in French.
“I went there to clean, but the lights are out.”
Dieter frowned. She spoke French with an accent that he could not quite place. He said, “You’re not supposed to go there.”
“Yes, the soldier told me that, they clean it themselves, I didn’t know.”
Her accent was not English, Dieter thought. But what was it? “How long have you worked here?”
“Only a week, and I’ve always done upstairs until today.”
Her story was plausible, but Dieter was not satisfied. “Come with me.” He took her arm in a firm grip. She did not resist as he led her through to the kitchen.
Dieter spoke to the cook. “Do you recognize this woman?”
“Yes, sir. She’s the one who was cleaning behind the oven.”
Dieter looked at her. “Is that true?”
“Yes, sir, I’m very sorry if I damaged something.”
Dieter recognized her accent. “You’re German,” he said.
“No, sir.”
“You filthy traitor.” He looked at the cook. “Grab her and follow me. She’s going to tell me everything.”
FLICK OPENED THE door marked Interview Room, stepped inside, closed the door behind her, and swept the room with her flashlight.
She saw a cheap pine table with ashtrays, several chairs, and a steel desk. The room was empty of people.
She was puzzled. She had located the prison cells on this corridor and had shone her flashlight through the judas in each door. The cells were empty: the prisoners the Gestapo had taken during the last eight days, including Gilberte, must have been moved somewhere else… or killed. But Ruby had to be here somewhere.
Then she saw, on her left, a door leading, presumably, to an inner chamber.
She switched off her flashlight, opened the door, stepped through, closed the door, and switched on her flashlight.
She saw Ruby right away. She was lying on a table like a hospital operating table. Specially designed straps secured her wrists and ankles and made it impossible for her to move her head. A wire from an electrical machine led between her feet and up her skirt. Flick guessed immediately what had been done to Ruby and gasped with horror.
She stepped to the table. “Ruby, can you hear me?”
Ruby groaned. Flick’s heart leaped: she was still alive. “I’ll free you,” she said. She put her Sten gun down on the table.
Ruby was trying to speak, but her words came out as a moan. Swiftly, Flick undid the straps that bound Ruby to the table. “Flick,” Ruby said at last.
“What?”
“Behind you.”
Flick jumped to one side. Something heavy brushed her ear and thumped her left shoulder hard. She cried out in pain, dropped her flashlight, and fell. Hitting the floor she rolled sideways, moving as far as possible from her original position so that her assailant could not hit her again.
She had been so shocked by the sight of Ruby that she had not shone her flashlight all around the room. Someone else had been lurking in the shadows, waiting for his chance, and had slowly crept up behind her.
Her left arm was momentarily numbed. Using her right hand, she scrabbled on the floor for her flashlight. Before she found it, there was a loud click, and the lights came on.
She blinked and saw two people. One was a squat, stocky man with a round head and close-cropped hair. Behind him stood Ruby. In the dark Ruby had picked up what looked like a steel bar, and she held it above her head in readiness. As soon as the lights came on, Ruby saw the man, turned, and brought the steel bar down on his head with maximum force. It was a crippling blow, and the man slumped to the floor and lay still.
Flick got up. The feeling was rapidly returning to her arm. She picked up the Sten gun.
Ruby was kneeling over the prone body of the man. “Meet Sergeant Becker,” she said.
“Are you all right?” Flick said.
“I’m in bloody agony, but I’m going to get my own back on this fucking bastard.” Grasping the front of Becker’s uniform tunic, Ruby heaved him upright, then, with an effort, pushed him onto the operating table.
He groaned.
“He’s coming round!” Flick said. “I’ll finish him off.”
“Give me ten seconds.” Ruby straightened the man’s limbs and strapped him in by his wrists and ankles; then she tightened the head restraint so that he could not move. Finally, she took the cylindrical terminal from the electric shock machine and stuffed it into his mouth. He choked and gagged but could not move his head. She picked up a roll of electrician’s tape, tore off a strip with her teeth, and secured the cylinder so that it would not come out of his mouth. Then she went to the machine and fumbled with the switch.
There was a low hum. The man on the table let out a strangled scream. His strapped-down body shook with convulsions. Ruby looked at him for a moment; then she said, “Let’s go.”
They went out, leaving Sergeant Becker writhing on the table, squealing like a pig in the slaughterhouse.
Flick checked her watch. Two minutes had passed since Jelly lit the fuses.
They passed through the Interview Room and stepped out into the corridor. The confusion had died down. There were just three soldiers near the entrance, talking calmly. Flick walked rapidly toward them with Ruby close behind.
Flick’s instinct was to walk straight past the soldiers, relying on a confident air to get her through, but then she glimpsed, through the door, the tall figure of Dieter Franck approaching, followed by two or three other people she could not clearly see. She stopped abruptly. Ruby bumped into her back. Flick turned to the nearest door. It was marked Wireless Room. She opened it. The room was empty. They stepped inside.
She left the door an inch open. She heard Major Franck bark in German, “Captain, where are the two men who should be guarding this entrance?”
“I don’t know, Major, I was just asking.”
Flick took the silencer off her Sten gun and flicked the switch for rapid fire. She had used only four bullets so far, leaving twenty-eight in the magazine.
“Sergeant, you and this corporal stand guard. Captain, you go up to Major Weber’s office and tell him Major Franck strongly recommends he conduct a search of the basement immediately. Off you go, on the double!”
A moment later, Franck’s footsteps passed the Wireless Room. Flick waited, listening. A door slammed. She peeped out. Franck had disappeared.
“Let’s go,” she said to Ruby. They left the Wireless Room and walked to the main door.
The corporal said in French, “What are you doing here?”
Flick had an answer ready. “My friend Valerie is new to the job, and she came to the wrong place in the confusion of the blackout.”
The corporal looked dubious. “It’s still light upstairs, how could she get lost?”
Ruby said, “I’m very sorry, sir, I thought I was supposed to clean here, and no one stopped me.”
The sergeant said in German, “We’re supposed to keep them out, not keep them in, Corporal.” He laughed and waved them on.
Dieter tied the prisoner to a chair, then dismissed the cook who had escorted her from the kitchen. He looked at the woman for a moment, wondering how much time he had. One agent had been arrested in the street outside the chateau. Another, if she was an agent, had been caught coming up the stairs from the basement. Had the others come and gone? Were they waiting somewhere to be let in? Or were they here in the building right now? It was maddening not to know what was happening. But he had ordered the basement searched. The only other thing he could do was interrogate the prisoner.
Dieter began with the traditional slap in the face, sudden and demoralizing. The woman gasped with shock
