The French Promise (35 page)

‘Yes, but it’s not your business to be his judge and juror, and it’s not Luc’s job to be his executioner.’

‘So we just ignore that a German war criminal is masquerading as a French national in our midst?’

‘No – but go through the right channels.’

‘Alert the police, you mean?’

She shrugged. ‘For starters.’

He shook his head. ‘We’re talking about a man who has evaded capture for more than
two decades. Do you really think he won’t slip the net of the bumbling
gendarmerie
? They may make a few initial enquiries but I’m telling you that’s all it will take to send von Schleigel scuttling off into oblivion.’

She sighed. ‘I’m sure there are war crimes sections in the UK and the US. There’s Interpol, for heaven’s sake! There are professionals for this. Justice can be achieved.’

He nodded. ‘I need to speak with Luc.’

‘Good,’ she said, covering his hand with hers, smiling at him. ‘I’d see him this evening, if I were you,’ she said. ‘It’s still early. I
told you he’s planning for us to leave early in the morning.’

Max reached for his wallet. ‘Please, let me get this. It was very good of you to see me, to hear me out. It’s helped talking to someone else about this;
made me see it all clearer.’

‘Thank you.’ Jane stood. ‘Well, I’ve got to pack and Luc said he may call again.’

Max stood and offered his hand but she kissed him affectionately on both cheeks. ‘I hope we’ll meet again.’

‘We will. I hope you know how welcome you all are in Lausanne. And thanks for letting me get all that off my chest.’

‘I’m glad you did. I’m glad you’ll fix it too.’

She left him
and it was only when the lift doors opened on her floor and she was rummaging about in her bag for her room key that she realised Max had never answered her question about where von Schleigel was.

Luc put the phone down after speaking with the restaurant manager. Now he knew why Jane had sounded strange. She’d had an arrangement with someone else for dinner but had deliberately avoided telling
him.

It was only by chance that he’d called Jane much earlier than planned because the hotel had sent up a huge silver platter of scrumptious pastries with exquisite chocolates. Accompanying it was a bottle of champagne, with the compliments of the general manager. Jenny was so excited by the feast laid out before her that she’d tucked into it helplessly and then groaned fifteen minutes later
that she couldn’t eat another thing and certainly not supper.

While Jenny cleared up her debris, he’d made enquiries about the trains for the next day and decided to let Jane know. Luc had called her hotel only to discover that she wasn’t in her room.
He’d been put back through to the front desk that confirmed she could be found in the hotel bistro. ‘Is it urgent, sir?’

‘Yes, a little.
I just need to give her a train time.’

‘Would you like me to put you through to the maître d’?’

‘That would be helpful, thank you.’ He didn’t think Jane would mind, especially if she was planning an early night.

He waited as the call was put through. The restaurant manager answered. ‘
Oui
, Monsieur Ravens, you are looking for Mademoiselle Aplin, I believe?’

‘Yes.’

‘She is having dinner
with her guest right now,’ the man said. ‘Main course has just been set down. But I am in your hands,
monsieur
. You tell me what you wish me to do.’

‘Um …’ His mind went blank.

‘Her companion did assure me that he was in a bit of a hurry, so I suspect they will be finished quite quickly.’

He?

‘Shall I disturb them, sir?’

‘Er, no. That’s fine. Leave them in peace to enjoy their
meal.’

‘Thank you, Monsieur Ravens.’

He put the receiver down and stared into space. She’d lied. Or rather she’d warned him that she’d had other offers and it sounded as though she’d taken one of her gentleman admirers up on it. He felt momentarily desolate. If they hadn’t made love only hours ago, he might not be feeling as betrayed as he did right now.

‘Dad?’

‘Mmm?’ Luc said absently, staring
out of the window into the dark night over a drizzling Paris. It wasn’t that late, maybe nearing six. He could feel the cold coming off the glass.

‘What’s wrong?’

He swung around to see Jenny staring at him, concerned. ‘Nothing at all … I was, er, I was just thinking why wait until tomorrow?’

‘What?’

He shrugged. ‘Come on, let’s do something daring and leave now for the south.’

She smiled
at him. ‘Are you crazy? It’s night out there.’

He checked his watch. ‘It’s five-forty. There’s a train at seven-thirty. We could make it!’

‘Why the sudden rush?’

‘If we’re not going out tonight for dinner, let’s get going, I say. It would be nice to wake up tomorrow in a new place.’

‘But you haven’t called your friend, Robert. You don’t even know if he’s still there.’

Luc gave a typically French
shrug. ‘If he’s not, he’s not. We can hire a car, drive into the Luberon. We have no itinerary, Jen, we can do whatever we want.’

She grinned. ‘Well, I’m all for an adventure.’

‘I’ll race you to pack!’ he challenged. He picked up the phone and explained to the receptionist that they required a porter to be sent up. ‘Oh, and can you put me through to the switchboard, please?’

‘
Bonsoir
, how can
I help, Monsieur Ravens?’ came the cheery voice.

He explained that he wanted no further calls to be put through to his room as they were now in a hurry to check out. He knew it was petulant but it made him feel more in control to cut Jane’s access to him while he sorted through his hurt. She’d be expecting him to call, expecting to go south in the morning, but no, perhaps she was right;
this
would be a trip for Jenny and himself. He’d hoped to leave the girls together in Saignon while he made his side trip to Fontaine-de-Vaucluse, but Jane was now a complication and he couldn’t have anyone playing around with his emotions. His mind was trying to cram itself with practicalities and all he could concentrate on was getting out of Paris quickly and putting distance between himself
and treacherous Jane, whom he’d stupidly allowed to sneak beneath his defences.

He’d scrawled two hurried notes: one to the general manager with thanks for his generous hospitality, and the other to Jane that he would leave with the hotel to forward.

‘Ready, Dad?’

‘I am,’ he said, sealing the second letter as there was a soft knock at the door. ‘Grab the coats. That will be the porter.’
He picked up his briefcase as Jenny zipped up the second case. ‘Final check around the room …’ he said, tapping his breast pocket to ensure he had his personal effects. ‘Let’s go!’ Luc said.

Within ten minutes they’d paid their bill, collected passports and said their farewells. A taxi was hailed and they bundled into it, dodging the rain, while their luggage was loaded and the concierge told
the driver to head for Gare de Lyon.

He noticed the sparkling droplets of moisture on Jenny’s shoulder in the darkness of the taxi and gave her a sad smile. This felt so cowardly.

She must have picked up on his mood. ‘Why do I feel like we’re running away?’ she murmured but he didn’t hear a genuine question in her tone and he didn’t want to answer it anyway.

She had the grace not to mention Jane.

Behind them the switchboard was fielding an incoming call.

‘I am sorry,
madame
, but Monsieur Ravens is not taking any calls.’

‘Oh, is he in the property?’

‘I do not know,
madame
.’

‘Could you put me through to the front desk, please?’ Jane said, frowning on the other end. How odd. It was still early.

‘Hello, this is Jane Aplin. I’m a friend of Monsieur Ravens who
is staying in your hotel.’

‘Ah, yes, how can I help,
madame
?’

‘I wonder if I could ask you to contact him and—’

‘I’m very sorry, but I’m afraid I cannot assist in this way. Monsieur Ravens is not here.’

‘He’s likely out at supper with—’

‘No. What I mean to say,
madame
, is he is no longer a guest in the hotel. He has checked out.’

She paused, rerunning through her mind what
the man had just said.

‘Checked out? You mean, he’s gone?’

‘That’s correct.’

‘But that’s impossible!’ she said.

‘He took a taxi and left a few minutes ago with his daughter.’

‘Good grief. Where are they going?’

‘Forgive me but I was not told.’

Jane suspected he wouldn’t tell her even if he had been. She shook her head, baffled but also hurt. ‘Um … you said he took a taxi.’

‘Yes.’

‘Could you ask
your concierge where it was going?’

‘I’m sorry but that is against hotel policy, I’m sure you understand …’

‘Yes, of course … sorry.’ She sounded so desperate.

‘But I do have a letter for you here. Monsieur Ravens asked me to forward it to your hotel.’

‘Oh? All right, thank you. Can you send it over this evening, please?’

‘I shall send it over immediately with one of our bellhops.’ Jane
placed the phone back on the hook, staring at it, shocked.

What had happened? Had Max been to see him? Had Luc decided to go south anyway? Why wouldn’t he have called? Surely he realised she would be waiting.

She went down to the lobby to await the porter bringing Luc’s note with what she hoped was an explanation that was going to make her feel a whole lot better, when she saw Max return sheepishly
to the lobby.

‘Jane … I didn’t expect to see you down here.’

She gave him a look of soft annoyance. ‘I could say the same to you. What happened?’

‘I went to their hotel but Luc and Jenny had checked out.’

She nodded. ‘So I’ve heard. Did you manage to discover where they went?’

He shrugged. ‘I paid off one of the porters and all he would tell me is that the taxi was going to Gare de Lyon. Luc is
headed south.’

‘Damn it!’

‘There’s no reason we can’t do the same.’

‘Follow him?’

‘Why not? We can’t make the last train south but we can catch the first one in the morning.’

‘Where are we going?’ She would not be deterred this time.

‘Fontaine-de-Vaucluse, near l’Isle sur la Sorgue.’

‘I think Luc might go via the Mont Mouchet region,’ Jane added.

‘That’s of no concern to me. In fact,
it’s all the better for us to get to Fontaine-de-Vaucluse first. I’ll ring you later from my hotel once I work out the trains.’

She nodded, let him kiss her cheeks again. ‘See you tomorrow, Max.’

As he left she recognised the uniform of a young man from the Grand. She watched the exchange of dialogue between him and her hotel’s concierge and headed towards them.

‘Madame Aplin, a letter for you.’

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’ve been expecting it.’

She turned, desperate to rip open the note but knowing she should wait until she was back in her room. The lift ride felt as though it took an eternity and she shared it with an American couple, clearly on their first trip to Paris. The woman giggled and her companion stole a soft peck at her temple. Watching them from the corner of her eye, Jane
felt unreasonably and ridiculously envious of them.

‘Sorry,’ the young woman said. ‘We’re on our honeymoon.’

Jane smiled politely at them and stepped out from the lift but had never felt as lonely as she did in that instant.

She hurried to her room, hoping no tears would fall. She dropped her key and struggled to get the door open but finally she leant back against the closed door, breathing hard.
The housemaid had turned down her bed and put the bedside lamps on. Jane sat on the bed and stared at the slightly crushed envelope in her hand. It was on his hotel’s stationery. The fountain pen’s ink was turquoise, which seemed altogether too feminine for a man but then Luc was full of surprises. He
was strong, opinionated, hated frills and frippery, and yet he grew lavender. He was a Maquisard,
might have killed people during the war, and yet he could speak about a moonlit evening like a poet. He was grieving for his wife – Jane knew he hadn’t let go of Lisette yet – but still he made love to her as though there had never been another woman in his life. He was an enigma.

She pulled open the envelope and withdrew the note, holding her breath, her heart pounding like timpani:

She read it twice in succession and by the end her tears had arrived to splash on the turquoise ink. Luc had gone. Her shock and hurt turned to annoyance that he’d not given her a
chance to explain and that he’d consider her that fickle. Did he really believe she’d allow two men to romance her at the same
time? What a low opinion he must have of her! And she had no right of redress.

She was angry but the situation was too grave. It would sit on her conscience and she refused to spend the rest of her life feeling complicit in what could very well turn into murder. She could see the situation clearly and she had to save Max that burden – he was too young and idealistic to realise how life
could punish a person repeatedly for a single error in judgement.

She would go to Provence, most of all for Jenny’s sake. If Jane could save Luc risking his neck for revenge, then she would. She screwed up the note just as the phone began to jangle. It would be Max.