That same afternoon, even as Logan sat in von Graff’s office, Jean Pierre made his way purposefully down the rue de Varennes toward La Librairie. He had carried off one of his many methods of working himself free from his ever-vigilant attendant. Had his business with his four comrades been less serious, he would have been chuckling to himself at the thought of the befuddled Gestapo agent still loitering about the W.C. at the Eiffel Tower waiting for him to exit, not realizing that he was long gone.
But his business today was serious, and thus he found no amusement in what he had done. It had been a matter of necessity and he had already forgotten it.
As much as he was inclined to believe Tanant’s story, his loyalty must lie with La Librairie first. He liked Michel, but how well did he really know him? The others had risked their lives one for the other; he knew where they stood. He owed them a full disclosure of what had taken place, so they could all have a say in any decision that must be made. Thus he had contacted Henri, and the impromptu meeting had been hastily arranged.
The others were all waiting when he walked into Henri’s back room.
“Well, what is this news you have of our missing Monsieur Tanant?” asked Claude somewhat cynically. “Have you seen him?”
“Yes, is he safe?” said Lise, who, like the others, had heard nothing concerning Logan since he had left her three nights before and could not help but wonder if she was in any way responsible.
“Please,” enjoined Henri, “at least allow the good priest to be seated. I’m sure he will tell us everything in good time.”
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” said Jean Pierre, seating himself and taking the offered cup of coffee from Henri. “Perhaps my worries are unfounded and all is exactly how it appears on the surface. But I owed you all an explanation of what I learned. If we should be in any danger, we must all know at once. If not, that should be a decision we make together.”
“Worries . . . danger? What evils do such words portend, Jean Pierre?” asked Henri with grave concern in his voice.
“Our speculations concerning Michel were correct. He was picked up by the S.S. for breaking curfew on his way home last Friday night after leaving you, Lise.”
“Did they imprison him?” asked Antoine.
“Yes,” replied Jean Pierre, “but only for a short time.”
“He is free, then?” asked Lise.
“Apparently so. But that is where the whole thing grows fuzzy. I chanced to see him at my brother’s birthday celebration.”
“What was he doing there?” asked Claude, his suspicious tone saying more than his words.
“That is the part which worries me,” admitted Jean Pierre. “It was an extremely gala event, collaborators and Germans almost exclusively. And there who should I see, well-dressed and jovial, and in the company of a German general no less, was our own Michel Tanant.”
“Mon Dieu!” exclaimed Henri. “That does not sound like him.”
“I have told you all along,” said Claude angrily, “that we knew nothing about this so-called Monsieur Tanant”—and as he said it, he spat out the word venomously—“but none of you would listen! Now he is in league with the Boche, and La Librairie is in danger!”
“We do not know that, Claude,” put in Antoine, willing to hear arguments in Logan’s favor as well as the accusations against him before passing judgment. “For myself, I want to hear the rest of Jean Pierre’s story.”
“I was naturally on my guard,” went on the priest. “Like you, Claude, I did not like the look of it. We barely had a chance to speak last evening at the party. But the moment we were alone he began insisting that I get a message to London for him. He said he was in danger, and that the whole thing with the Germans was a facade.”
“A facade, no doubt, invented on the spot the moment he saw you!” said Claude.
“Perhaps, mon ami. Perhaps. But if he is telling the truth, then if we do not back him up and get his message to London, it may not only mean Michel’s death, it may bring yet more danger to the rest of us.”
“What did you do?” asked Henri.
“In the presence of the general, I threw out an invitation for today, to see what might come of it.”
“And?”
“Michel was at my door before ten.”
“Alone?”
“We each had a Gestapo agent watching from a distance.”
“Well, that is a good sign, that they are having him followed,” said Henri. “At least if there is collusion with the Boche going on, it must not have progressed too far. They apparently do not yet trust him fully.”
“Unless the tail was all part of the scheme,” said Claude. “And let me guess, Jean Pierre! He told you he was ‘playing along’ with them, pretending to be sympathetic to their cause. He probably told you he was going to pretend to turn so he could infiltrate the Resistance for them and feed back information. Am I on the mark, mon père?”
Jean Pierre was silent a moment. The others all awaited his response, but his lack of a quick reply told them Claude’s perception had been correct.
“What else would you have expected him to say under the circumstances?” went on Claude. “All this time he has been setting up this moment, gaining our confidence, even helping a few people to escape. But now! Now comes the moment for which he was sent into our midst—sent by the Germans! He fakes an arrest, tells us that he was captured and was ‘forced’ to fake a turn and that he now has to play along with them. All the while this has been his plan from the first day when he walked through this door of yours, Henri. And now that it has reached this stage, he can come and go with the Germans as he pleases, and in the meantime he has equal access through the Paris underground. A most convenient arrangement, I must say, and very cunning for the Boche to have devised!”
Claude’s point seemed well taken. The others pondered his words for several moments.
“I want to know what he wanted you to tell London,” said Henri at length.
“I’m afraid that only adds to the perplexity,” replied Jean Pierre. “It is indeed a rather incredible tale.” The priest then proceeded to tell his comrades everything Logan had said about his Trinity cover and what he had been forced to tell von Graff.
“It is too incredible not to believe,” said Antoine.
“Bah!” shot back Claude. “You are a gullible fool! He will have us all before the Boche firing squad if we allow him back among us!”
“Claude!” said Lise, speaking now for the first time since hearing Jean Pierre’s story. “Whatever your views, you have no right to say such a thing to your comrade! Your bitter protestations make me inclined to believe Michel as well—if only to spite you for your unfounded accusations!”
“You may seal your fate if you like,” said Claude. “But I will trust him no more than I ever have. I will watch my flank even in my sleep. If La Librairie goes down, I will not go with it! Our safest course is to eliminate him, and you all know it! What can have so captivated you about this Britisher to blind your eyes, I do not know!”
“No one will be eliminated without proof,” said Jean Pierre. “We will all be wary. But we cannot pass judgment too hastily.”
“Jean Pierre is right,” said Henri. “We have all missed one of the key ingredients to this unexpected turn of events. That is, if Michel is indeed telling the whole truth, think what benefits could be gained for us in having L’Escroc able to come and go inside S.S. headquarters unhindered! This may be the best thing ever to happen for the Resistance in Paris.”
“Well, I’m going to transmit his message to Mother Hen just as he gave it to Jean Pierre,” said Lise. “He has done much for the cause, and perhaps we owe it to him to do that much. Was that all he asked of us, Jean Pierre?”
“There was just one other thing,” replied the priest. “He wanted you to meet him as soon as it could be arranged.”