Page 63 of Whispers At Dawn
He listened, again shocked at the nerve of this woman. Who did she think she was, questioning the authorities in wartime?
Armand introduced himself with all the command he could muster, but to his further irritation, the woman looked unimpressed.
‘We are here to speak to whoever is in charge in there,’ she said, pointing her chin to city hall. ‘We won’t be ignored, whilst our children starve to death and Pétain’s officials dine like kings.’
Pangs of indigestion rose in Armand’s chest, after he was disturbed so rudely, and had to rush across the square. He gathered himself up to his full height, which wasn’t significant. ‘Madame, I fear you are sadly mistaken in your endeavours, and I urge you to call your gang to attention. I’m afraid this will not end well for you.’
‘Is that a threat?’ the woman said, a hard edge to her voice, her head the same height as his, and a small snivelling boy at her side.
Armand was taken off guard. He hadn’t expected push back from a mere housewife. He quickly calculated his best move. It didn’t seem wise to get heavy with women and children, and there might be unforeseen consequences.
The others continued marching, and the woman snorted in his face. ‘I suggest you move out of my way, monsieur, and let me go about my business.’
Rage at her insolent attitude and lack of deference flickered in his gut and he had to hold his hands at his sides to stop himself from grabbing her and showing her who was in charge. He’d like to arrest her, and throw her in jail for treason, but a cautious voice in his head told him this was beyond his remit, and he must step away.
He took a deep breath and reined in his wrath as he glowered at the woman who still showed no signs of fear or remorse. This was an official matter to be handled with delicacy and wasn’t worth him risking his good standing, in case the commissaire disproved of him taking it into his own hands.
‘Madame, take it as you wish. I shall report you and your gang to the authorities and am advising you to temper your actions. Consider yourself warned.’ Armand turned on his heel without waiting for any further response and limped out of the square, his fine lunch experience ruined by the resentment churning in his gut.
The realisation that he still had no power hit him like a cold shower. His resolve deepened and as he exited the square and turned into the cobbled street, he swore he would secure a spot at the table with the top brass in Hitler’s Third Reich.
He would do it if it was the last thing he did. Driving the Gestapo officer to the château would be an ideal time to intensify his campaign with renewed enthusiasm.
CHAPTER 31
Lizzie was rooted to the spot in the kitchen. Neither she nor Jack had time to reach for their guns and had been taken wholly unawares. They had made it safely back into the château, and the last thing she’d expected was to have a gun pointed at her on entry into the kitchen.
Jack stepped forward to stand with Lizzie in front of their cloaked and hooded assailant, who had moved from the bench by the table and now stood, still brandishing a gun.
‘There must be some mistake. We couldn’t sleep and went for a walk around the grounds,’ Jack said, holding his hands up.
‘Don’t move. Stay back,’ the low voice barked.
Lizzie suspected one of the male staff. How else could he be inside the château,waiting for them like this?
Lizzie’s pulse raced as she stared at the shrouded figure, illuminated only by a candelabra that flickered on a counter in the large kitchen.
‘Who are you and what do you want?’ Lizzie asked, sounding much calmer than she felt.
‘I’ll ask the questions,’ the voice commanded. ‘What were you really doing out there?’
Lizzie cleared her dry throat. Talking with a gun pointed at her head didn’t come easily. ‘Like Monsieur Dubois said, we couldn’t sleep. We were worrying about our family in Brittany and took a stroll to the vineyards.’
‘Why are you dressed like that?’ the voice questioned.
‘Like what?’ Jack asked.
‘All in dark clothing, as if you have something to hide. Are you spying on us?’
Lizzie calculated whether to draw her gun from her pocket. Not seeing the assailant’s face made it difficult to gauge how dangerous he was and how likely to react by shooting.
Jack’s voice was steady. ‘I don’t know about you, but it’s been a long night, and I’m tired. I’d like to get to bed. I don’t think Monsieur Luc will be impressed by this little hold up of yours.’
The figure remained quiet and seemed to consider Jack’s statement.
Jack stretched out his hand. ‘Give me the gun. I promise we won’t report you and we can all forget this ever happened. We understand these are frightening times and you’ve let your imagination run away with you.’
Lizzie struggled to breathe. Anything could happen if this man was a loose cannon. If there was one thing she’d learnt in the past year, it was how unpredictable people were.
