Page 48 of Whispers At Dawn
Lizzie’s heart thudded furiously at the realisation they were having dinner with the head of the Toulouse French police, and one wrong word could prove deadly. She controlled her breathing in the way she had been trained, and after several slow intakes of breath whilst being careful not to show her nerves, she calmed down and her heart rate slowed to a normal speed.
The butler served them several vintages of wine to taste, which Lizzie had grown accustomed to as a routine part of dining in a château with its own vineyards and winery.
The commissaire was ecstatic with the vintage Luc recommended he have with his main course. ‘No one makes wine like you,’ he said, complimenting Luc profusely, his face flushed after several large glasses. ‘You’ve always had the golden touch.’
Luc raised his glass, and they all followed suit.
The commissaire said, ‘That reminds me. I’m afraid I may have attracted some attention to Château de Saint-Clair, my dear friend.’
‘Oh, yes?’ Luc said, a slight frown on his brow.
‘When I was in Paris earlier this week, I was invited to a prestigious event hosted by the Nazis and found myself seated next to a decent sort—a great lover of wine like me. Of course, one thing led to another and before I could stop myself, I was gushing about your wonderful vineyards and the wines you grow and produce here.’
Luc listened to his old friend, and Lizzie glimpsed a shadow cross his face. ‘Go on,’ he said.
‘Well, he has a trip to meet with Marshal Pétain at Vichy HQ booked in the next few days, and he asked whether I might arrange a dinner party for us here so he may visit further south. He’s not been to Toulouse, before you see.’
‘I do see,’ Luc said, his tone somewhat acerbic.
‘Oh, don’t be like that. He will be a good contact for you. We all need friends in high places, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the Germans didn’t extend the full occupation to our zone sooner than we envisage.’
Jack looked startled, but recovered instantly. ‘Why do you say that if I may be so bold?’
The commissaire turned to Jack. ‘I may be wrong, but I have my suspicions, that’s all, so it would be a good move to entertain Walter Von Shneider and show him your wines. Perhaps he will even buy from you. They are transporting a lot of French wine to Germany, as I understand it.’
Luc’s eyes narrowed. ‘You mean well, but the Nazis have crushed our wine trade by lowering the Franc rate to such a degree we may as well give them our wine, not sell it to them.’
This was the first time during the evening, Luc had said anything derogatory about the Nazis, and Lizzie held her breath and waited to see how the commissaire would react.
‘I am sorry for that. This is a difficult time, and we must make whatever commerce we can. I advise you to create fruitful ties with the Nazis, because, as I said, I predict they will join us permanently in the South soon.’
Jack remained poker faced throughout the entire exchange.
Luc changed the subject swiftly and told the commissaire that Michel was a much-needed extra pair of hands, now he was growing old and had lost many of his pre-war employees.
‘It’s not too long before we will be in the picking season again, and I must say we will be grateful for your help, Michel. I do hope you can stay on through the summer.’
The commissaire seemed intrigued and asked Jack what he did exactly.
Luc interjected. ‘Michel is experienced in the business side of wine, but he’s been helping us prune the vines, and carry out daily maintenance.’
‘I suppose the wine trade in St. Malo is not what it was before the war,’ the commissaire replied.
‘Sadly, it is not. There’s not much call for my services, so I’m glad to be of use here for the time being, at least.’
‘And what of your beautiful wife?’ the commissaire asked, turning to Lizzie, whose heart started thumping again.
She really must grow accustomed to being in the spotlight like this now they were permanent guests at the château. In previous missions she had flitted about in the shadows, working undercover, rarely engaging with the enemy directly. It was a frightening experience, and she found herself lacking.
It was Jack’s turn to save her by using some of their concocted cover story. ‘We are recently married, and could not bear to be apart, so she accompanied me for that reason. She has no official capacity here but I’m sure she will pass the time admirably.’
‘I do not blame you, monsieur. Who would leave such a wife behind by choice? A wife’s place is at her husband’s side, after all.’
Lizzie assumed her subservient role and smiled graciously, her green eyes setting off her red dress to perfection. Jack always knew what to say, and she was grateful she didn’t have to pull this off alone. At moments like this, she realised she was still an amateur.
The rest of the meal passed uneventfully, and the evening dragged on until the commissaire finally rose to leave.
‘Would you have someone call my driver, please?’ he asked Jack.
