‘And I can’t see any other way of getting my parents out. And, since it is because of me that they are in this situation, I shall do what Beckman wants.’
‘What are you suggesting?’
‘A trade. Me for them.’
Claire heard Chief Jacobs suck his teeth. ‘Once Alain is inside he’ll be able to separate Beckman from the nurse,’ she said.
‘How?’
‘Accuse the nurse of killing Beckman’s secretary.’
‘She’ll deny it,’ Alain added, ‘but played right, she’ll turn against Beckman.’
‘But she did kill the secretary. We found--’
‘My wife and I have met Nurse Bryant, and neither of us believes she is capable of murder. We think Beckman killed his secretary and planted the watch and uniform. Then, when the secretary’s body was found, the evidence would point to the nurse and not to him.’
‘And the only thing Beckman would be guilty of was having an affair with a nurse who was obsessed with him, jealous of his secretary, and killed her,’ Claire said.
‘A woman scorned, huh?’ The chief shook his head.
‘The nurse would hang and Beckman would have got away with murder.’
‘Again!’ Mitch said.
‘But when Nurse Bryant finds out the man she loves has framed her for the murder of his secretary - who we, Alain, will hint he was also having an affair with - she will turn against him.’
‘And once she knows he’s a murdering Nazi she’ll testify against him in court.’ Chief Jacob’s broad red face lit up at the prospect. ‘Let me discuss it with my negotiators, Captain. I’ll be back in the morning to take you to your parents house.’ He looked at the two air force officers. ‘Someone will stand guard outside the door all night?’
‘Yes, sir,’ they both said.
‘Right! Then I shall leave you. You need to eat,’ he said, looking from Claire to Alain. ‘I would rather you didn’t leave the suite. Order food from room service and get an early night. Tomorrow looks like it’s going to be a long day.’
Claire fell onto the settee and Alain went over to the telephone. ‘What do you want to eat, honey?’
‘Whatever you’re having, I don’t care,’ Claire said, resting her head on the back of the settee.
‘Officers, can I get you anything?’ Alain said, picking up the telephone.
‘No, Sir. Thank you, we--’
‘I’ll order for four. If you’re going to be here all night you need to eat... Hi, this is room 642. Can I get chicken and French fries for four? Bread, cheese and some pancakes with bacon and maple syrup. A pot of coffee and a bottle of Canadian Club. Could you bring the coffee and the CC up straight away? That’s great.’ He returned the receiver to the telephone’s base. ‘The drinks are coming up now. The food will be half an hour.’
The coffee and the whiskey arrived within a few minutes. Claire poured four cups of coffee and Alain poured the whiskey. ‘No alcohol for us,’ Officer Boucher said, ‘but a coffee would be welcome.’
When they were seated with their drinks, Claire and Officer Boucher in two armchairs by the window, the men on dining chairs at a small table, Alain asked Officer Lloyd if he could get some money changed from French francs into Canadian dollars. The officer said he was sure the hotel would change the money. If they wouldn’t he would go to the bank first thing in the morning.
Officer Boucher asked Claire if there was anything she needed. ‘Yes,’ Claire said, ‘Clothes.’ She jumped up and went over to her handbag, which she had dropped next to her suitcase when she arrived. She grabbed the bag and returned to her chair. ‘I have been living out of a suitcase, rotating the same clothes for months. Is there anywhere near here where I can buy a couple of skirts and blouses, a suit or a thin sweater?’ She took her purse from her handbag and counted her money. ‘For a hundred and twenty francs.’
‘I know just the place,’ Officer Boucher said. ‘What’s your dress size?’
‘In England I’m a twenty-two-inch waist. I have no idea how that translates over here.’ Claire took a step back and looked at the young Canadian officer. ‘We’re about the same dress size. If it fits you, I’m sure it will fit me.’
‘Colour preference?’
Claire could see a wisp of light brown hair poking out from under Officer Boucher’s hat. ‘Whatever suits you will be fine.’ She gave the officer a hundred francs. ‘I’ll keep twenty in case there’s an emergency. Unless you need more--’ The officer put up her hand.
While they waited for the food to arrive, Alain and Officer Lloyd talked about the changes to both Canada and Europe since the end of the war, and Claire opened the suitcases. Alain’s clothes were crumpled because he had thrown them into the suitcase without folding them. On closer inspection, she could see they were clean and only needed a shake before she hung them up.
Her clothes, on the other hand, although folded neatly, had been worn several times while she had been in France. They all needed to be washed or taken to a commercial dry-cleaning shop. ‘Do you think the hotel will have these cleaned for me?’
Officer Boucher stood up. ‘They will, Mrs Mitchell. I’ll go down and get a couple of laundry bags from reception. If you’d like to give me your francs, sir?’ she said to Alain, ‘I’ll see if I can get them changed for you while I’m down there.’
Alain took a wad of notes from his pocket, and Officer Boucher counted them. ‘Two hundred and eighty francs.’ She put the money in the breast pocket of her uniform and buttoned it. ‘I won’t be long.’
Officer Boucher returned as a waiter was wheeling
