When he went upstairs to the salon, Sarah was just adjusting her hat ‘in the mirror. Her hair looked excellent. He helped her on with her coat.
Emily Johnson said, “Satisfied?”
“Very much so.” He opened his wallet and took out a ten-mark note.
“No!” Her anger overflowed. “I don’t want your money.
You told me to do her hair and IVe done it.” There were tears of frustration in her eyes. “Just go.”
Martineau pushed Sarah out of the door. When he turned, his voice, to Emily Johnson’s astonishment, was quite gentle. It was as if, for a moment, he had stepped out of the role of brutal SS officer that he had played so well. “I salute you, Mrs. Johnson. You are a brave woman.”
The door closed behind him. She sat down, head in hands, and started to cry.
Martineau parked the Kubelwagen outside the Silvertide Hotel at Havre des Pas beside several other cars. “I shan’t be long.”
She smiled. “Don’t worry about me I’ll just take a walk along the seawall. I used to come to swim in the pool here when I was a kid.”
“As you please. Just try not to talk to any strange men.”
Muller had seen him arrive from the window of his office. When Martineau went inside, a young military policeman in plain clothes was waiting to greet him. “Standartenfiihrer Vogel? This way please.”
He ushered Martineau into Muller’s office and closed the door. The captain stood up behind the desk. “A great pleasure.”
“I wish I could say the same,” Martineau said. “YouVe spoken to Kleist and Greiser?”
“About this misunderstanding at de Ville Place? Yes, they did explain…”
“Misunderstanding?” Martineau said coldly. “You will have them in here now, Herr Captain, if you please, and quickly. My time is limited.”
He turned away and stood at the window, hands behind his back, as Muller asked for Kleist and Greiser over the intercom. They came in only a few moments. Martineau didn’t bother to turn around, but looked out across the road to the seawall where Sarah was standing.
He said softly, “Inspector Kleist, I understand you have put this morning’s events at de Ville Place down to a misunderstanding?”
“Well, yes, Standartenfuhrer.”
“Liar!” Martineau’s voice was low and dangerous. “Both of you liars.” He turned to face them. “As I walked through the wood with Mademoiselle Latour we heard a girl scream. A child, Captain, barely sixteen, being dragged toward a barn by this animal here while the other stood and laughed. I was about to interfere when General Gallagher came on the scene and gave a bully the thrashing he deserved.”
“I see,” Muller said.
“Just to make things worse, I was obliged to draw my own pistol and fire a warning shot to prevent this idiot shooting Gallagher in the back. God in heaven, what kind of an imbecile are you, Greiser?” He spoke slowly as if to a child. “The man is Irish, which means he is a neutral, and the Fuhrer’s declared policy is good relations with Ireland. On top of that he is a famous man back there in the old country. A hero of their revolution. A general. We don’t shoot people like that in the back. Understand?”
“Yes, Standartenfuhrer.”
Now he turned his attention to Kleist. “And as the Fuhrer’s declared policy toward the inhabitants of Jersey has been one of reconciliation, we do not attempt to rape sixteen-year-old girls.” He turned to Muller. “The actions of these men are an affront to every ideal the Reich holds dear and to German honor.”
He was thoroughly enjoying himself, especially when Heist’s anger overflowed. “I’m not a child to be lectured like this.”
“Kleist!” Martineau said. “As a member of the Gestapo you took an oath to our Fuhrer. A holy oath. As 1 recall it runs: 1 vow to you and the superiors you appoint, obedience unto death. Is it not so?”
“Yes,” Kleist answered.
“Then remember from now on that you are here to obey orders. If I ask a question you answer, ‘Jawohl, Standar-tenfuhrer.’ If I give you an order it’s ‘Zu befehl, Standar-tenfuhrer.’ Do you follow?”
There was a pause before Kleist said in a low voice, “Jawohl, Standartewfuhrer.”