When Saunier had completed his statement, Rahn was asked by Marcourt if he wished to ask any questions. Rahn asked Saunier if he was a member of Thule-Gesellschaft. If the question surprised Marcourt, the answer surprised him even more. Saunier hesitated for a moment then told Rahn that although he (Saunier) was not a member, he was fairly sure that two of the other arrested men were, and that he had overheard them talking about the society. He stated that he wasn’t sure about the other (fourth) man.
When the prisoner had signed the statement and been taken back to the cells, Rahn asked Marcourt what he thought the outcome would be. Marcourt was fairly non-committal; he thought it unlikely that, in the absence of a name for the person the four had transported to Marseilles, they would be able to bring any meaningful charges. He indicated that he would have the warehouse searched for contraband or banned substances but felt they would probably have to release the four men without charge.
Marcourt counted out the negative points.
The Thule-Gesellschaft—whatever that is (his words)—is not a banned organisation in France.
None of the four has a criminal record.
At this stage of the operation, nothing they are doing in the workshop appears to be illegal.
It is perfectly legal to give a man a lift to Marseilles in one of their lorries—even if he is a German.
Unless the identity of the mysterious German can be established, it cannot be assumed that he was a war criminal.
After we bade farewell to a disappointed Chef d’Escadron Fournier, Rahn and I discussed our next move. We thanked the inspector for his cooperation and had to reluctantly agree with all of his negative points, but we felt he had missed one especially important positive. We knew from the statements made by Gerd Weiss in Sarreguemines that the person they transported to Strasbourg two years ago was a German officer wanted for war crimes. We felt there was a high probability that this was the same German who had been transported by the warehouse crew to Marseilles. That meant that the Marseilles route had been used in the past for people trafficking, we could be fairly sure of that, so Rahn decided he needed to pursue the possible Marseilles link to see if that would throw up any clues as to the whereabouts or plans of Müller.
Section 5Marseilles
Rahn booked a hotel near the docks, which at first seemed an odd choice. It was small, a little run down and with few amenities, however it was clean and comfortable. As always with Rahn, there was method in his madness. The hotel is owned by a Scotsman who had served with Rahn in the Legion. Davy McIntyre (Mac) is a man of small stature and build, but like Rahn, his years in the Legion are forever etched onto his hard face. He has the look of a man who would kill you for a shilling but is, in fact, one of the nicest, kindest men I have met in a long time (I think I move in the wrong circles!).
The advantage of this hotel, as Rahn explained to me, apart from its proximity to the docks, is that Mac is the unofficial leader of the Docklands Hoteliers and Bar Owners Association, a loose and non-official group of owners who meet regularly to discuss their mutual problems and who assist each other when needed. Between them, they operate a vigilante group that can swoop on any particular hotel at short notice in the event of violent behaviour by any of their customers. It appears that the police are aware of this ‘arrangement’ but allow them to get on with it.
Mac therefore has his finger on the pulse of everything that happens in any of the bars or hotels in their group. In particular, he is aware of any unusual comings and goings. Even if transgressors and fugitives didn’t use any of the Docklands Association properties and hostelries, Mac would often hear about it on the grapevine or from matelots who frequented the bar of his hotel.
We were, through Mac, introduced to a number of people who he thought might be able to help us. These included some of the lower-placed officials of the Port Authority. As Mac pointed out, there was no point in interviewing the higher officials, as they would deny that any people trafficking had ever taken place through Marseilles. Lower-placed officials might, on the other hand, let something useful slip. They didn’t.
We interviewed a friend of Mac’s, a captain of a freighter, who happened to be in port and who confirmed that some fugitives passed through there occasionally, but these were mainly French criminals trying to evade the law. He wasn’t aware of any German war criminals. Most French captains wouldn’t have had anything to do with that—memories were still strong—but as he pointed out, both Spanish and Italian ships used the port, and their captains were unlikely to have any such scruples. We mingled with matelots and stevedores and spent a lot of money on drinks (see expenses claim attached), but without reward.
Our last contact was another ex-Legionnaire who went by the name of Henri Gagnier, real name Heinrich Bauer, a Saxon-German who had married a French woman and settled in Marseilles after he left the Legion before the war. Seeing which way the wind was blowing, he had changed his name before the war started.
When hostilities began, Henri had been one of the first to join the Resistance. His compatriots, even those who had served with him in the Legion,
