An Officer and a Spy

I don’t ask the question in an interrogatory way, but entirely casually. To my surprise Guénée frowns and shakes his head, as if making a great effort at memory. ‘Ah no, Colonel, not I.’

The stupid lie puts me on immediate alert. ‘No? But surely you provided Major Henry with a statement from the Spanish military attaché? It was a central part of the case against Dreyfus.’

‘Did I?’ Suddenly he looks less sure.

‘Well, did you or didn’t you? Major Henry says you did.’

‘Then I must have.’

‘I have it here, in fact: what you said Val Carlos told you.’ I take the secret file from my desk drawer, open it and extract Henry’s deposition. Guénée’s eyes widen in amazement at the sight of it. ‘“Be sure to tell Major Henry on my behalf (and he may repeat it to the colonel)” — that’s Colonel Sandherr, I presume — “that there is reason to intensify surveillance at the Ministry of War, since it emerges from my last conversation with the German attachés that they have an officer on the General Staff who is keeping them admirably well informed. Find him, Guénée: if I knew his name, I would tell you!”’

‘Yes, that sounds about right.’

‘And he actually said this to you roughly six months before Dreyfus was arrested?’

‘Yes, Colonel — in March.’

Something in his demeanour tells me he is still lying. I look again at the statement. It doesn’t sound much like a Spanish marquis to me; it reads more like a policeman making up evidence.

‘Wait a moment,’ I say. ‘Let me be clear about this. If I go to see the marquis de Val Carlos and say to him, “My dear Marquis, between you and I, is it true that you said these words to Monsieur Guénée that helped send Captain Dreyfus to Devil’s Island?” he will reply, “My dear Major Picquart, that’s absolutely correct”?’

Panic flickers in Guénée’s face. ‘Well I don’t know about that, Colonel. Remember, he said that to me in confidence. Given all this stuff in the press about Dreyfus now — how can I swear to what he’d say today?’

I stare at him. My God, I think. What in the name of heaven were they up to? If Val Carlos didn’t say it to Guénée, it stands to reason he didn’t say it to Henry either. Because it wasn’t just Guénée whom the Spaniard was supposed to have warned about a German spy on the General Staff: it was Henry. It was their alleged conversation that provided the basis for Henry’s theatrical testimony at the court martial: The traitor is that man!

A long pause is ended by a knock at the door. Lauth thrusts his blond head into the room. I wonder how long he has been listening. ‘General Boisdeffre would like you to go over and see him straight away, Colonel.’

‘Thank you. Tell his office I’m on my way.’ Lauth withdraws. I say to Guénée, ‘We’ll talk about this some other time.’

‘Yes, Colonel.’ He leaves, looking — or so it seems to me — mightily relieved to have escaped without any further interrogation.

Boisdeffre is seated behind his grand desk, his elegant hands palm-down on the surface; a copy of L’Éclair lies between them. He says, ‘I gather you saw the minister yesterday.’ His tone is one of a calmness that is only being maintained with great difficulty.

‘Yes, I see him most days, General.’

Boisdeffre has left me standing to attention on the carpet, the first time this has happened.

‘And you showed him the secret file on Dreyfus?’

‘I felt he needed to be aware of the facts-’

‘I will not have it!’ He lifts one of his hands and brings it down hard on his desk. ‘I told you to speak to General Gonse and to no one else! Why do you think you can disobey my orders?’

‘I’m sorry, General, I wasn’t aware your order applied to the minister. If you remember, last month you gave me permission to brief General Billot about the Esterhazy investigation.’

‘About Esterhazy, yes! But not about Dreyfus! I thought it was made absolutely clear to you by General Gonse that you were to keep the two matters separate?’

I continue to stare straight ahead, at a particularly hideous oil painting by Delacroix hanging just above the Chief of Staff’s scanty white hair. Only occasionally do I risk a brief glance at the general himself. He seems to be under tremendous stress. The Virginia creeper-like mottling on his cheeks has ripened from crimson to purple.

‘Frankly, I don’t believe it’s possible to keep the two matters separate, General.’

‘That may be your opinion, Colonel, but you have no business trying to create dissension in the high command.’ He picks up the newspaper and waves it at me. ‘And where did this come from?’

‘The Sûreté believe the story may have originated with the Dreyfus family.’

‘And did it?’