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Chapter 37

Among the last of the hostages shot in the courtyard of La Santé prison was Monsieur Lepetit, the produce dealer and one-time lover of Monique Levitan.

Sitting in the blue-lit salon of the Lido, Monique accidentally came across his name. It leaped out at her from the open pages of a newspaper, set a shudder vibrating along her spine, and forced a shriek out of her suddenly-constricted throat.

There were three men at her table. One was Clavelle, her current lover. A young man in his early thirties, with an aristocratic face, prematurely grey hair and deep-set grey eyes. He occupied a post in the Prefecture and worked closely with the Germans, accepting their instructions a to what he should do under any possible circumstance. Two of his Nazi advisors sat at the table with him: Fritz Opfenmundt and the tall Heinz.

When the unexpected shriek burst from Monique's lip the three eyed her curiously. She recaptured her composure hiding her confusion behind a banal phrase.

"My God!" she stammered. "Look at the ridiculous dress that woman is wearing!"

Monsieur Clavelle shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, les femmes!" he murmured in disgust, as though he were apologizing to Opfenmundt for his companion's outburst.

Herr Opfenmundt said nothing. He looked contemptuously

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