Vengeance 10

Memling took a step towards him. ‘She is not a…. a… ’ He stopped as if unable to pronounce the word. Walsch raised a hand to stay the other man.

‘You treated her like a whore, so obviously you must think her one. Answer my question.’

‘I did… I went to the Parc de la Citadelle. I go there sometimes, to be alone.’

‘To the park? I see.’ More pages turned. ‘This woman, Maria, have you met her before, outside the works?’

‘No. No, sir,’ Memling answered, astonished that Walsch had not asked about the park and who it was he had met there. Didn’t he know?

‘But you have met her, spoken to her, inside the works?’ Bemused, Memling did not see where the trap was leading. ‘Yes, I have spoken to her… in her office.’

Walsch tapped the notebook. ‘In violation of the law forbidding personal intercourse during work hours?’

‘Ye — yes.’

‘Are you not aware that such violations are considered sabotage by the occupation authorities? And that sabotage is punished by hanging?’ Walsch’s voice had become cold.

‘Yes… but I… thought perhaps a word ….’ What is he doing? Memling wondered. Didn’t they follow me to the citadel?

‘A word? Just a word? And next time it will be two words, and then several, and perhaps a long conversation will follow while your work suffers and the weapons needed by our front-line troops are not delivered on time and they are killed because you were compelled to speak to a whore,’ Walsch shouted.

Memling could only remain silent. He had walked directly into the trap. His mind was in total confusion now. What was Walsch really after? If he had been followed to the citadel, they would surely have seen him with Paul.

Walsch uttered the next words with no hint of threat. ‘You do realise that I could have you before a court-martial immediately and hanged before this evening? I can assure you the execution is most unpleasant. Perhaps you would be interested to know the procedure? One’s last moments should be meaningful, their significance understood. As sabotage is the worst crime one can commit, the government has decreed that the method of execution should be made a deterrent to others. Therefore the prisoner is stripped to the waist and paraded before his fellows who are assembled to watch. The gallows bar is placed some three metres above the ground, so the victim’s struggles are plainly visible to all.’ Walsch’s voice had taken on a grotesque humour.

‘The prisoner is mounted on a footboard. A wire noose is placed about his neck and snugged up so that there is no slack. At a signal the footboard is withdrawn leaving the prisoner to strangle. It can take as long as ten minutes to die if the hangman places the noose correctly. As you might imagine, it is very unpleasant. And that, my friend, by your own admission, is the penalty which awaits you, this very afternoon.’

Even through the intense fear that seemed to have shut out everything else, it was becoming clear to Memling what was happening. The Gestapo knew who he was. The files had disgorged his name in response to his fingerprints. But Walsch could not possibly admit to having overlooked a British spy in a most sensitive position all these months, particularly one who had escaped him once before. So Walsch had waited to see where he would lead them. Somehow the meeting with Paul had been missed, but not the one with Maria, and that meant she was now under Gestapo suspicion as well. Now that they had a connection, there was no further need for him. He could be eliminated and at the same time provide a cheap lesson in continued obedience. The floor shifted and he staggered, nauseated by fear. The thought of strangling to death from a wire noose…

‘… be a way to avoid such a severe penalty,’ Walsch continued. ‘After all, death is rather a severe penalty for speaking to an attractive woman, a temptation to which anyone may give way.’ Memling closed his eyes, shutting out the light, the sound, everything, as he struggled to understand what the Gestapo officer was saying. ‘How?’ he choked.

‘If you are willing to co-operate with me, I may be persuaded to intercede with the court. It has happened that such charges have been greatly reduced if the service rendered is of sufficient importance.’

Gaunt to the point of emaciation, Walsch smiled. He lit a cigarette and, as an afterthought, offered one to Memling. Feigning gratitude, Memling accepted and lit it from the match Walsch held for him.

‘It really is quite a simple task. And quite pleasant, I might add. In fact, I might even be doing you an unexpected favour.’ Memling waited, sucking greedily at the cigarette in spite of the harshness of the German tobacco that must have been half dried oak leaves.

‘This woman, Maria Kluensenayer, is of interest to you, of course. You must therefore continue with your suit. Become friendly with her, spend time with her. I am quite interested in knowing what she does in her spare time.’

‘Maria,’ Memling blurted out. ‘But she is ….’

‘A whore.’

Memling blinked.