“All along the rue du Faubourg Saint-Martin near the Gare de l’Est the only cars were those of the Germans, and few of them, ah yes, but not few enough. St-Cyr stood at the kerb waiting to cross over. Ever since arriving at Le Bourget aerodrome, he and Hermann had known they were being followed. They’d split up. There was nothing new in this, the work always shared. But Hermann, he was better at deception. Instinctively the Bavarian could tail or lose a tail better than anyone. The car was down ...the street no more than five lampposts. Beetle-black and ugly, a Citroën just like the one he’d once had. Son of a bitch! Could they not leave them alone long enough to draw breath or pass water? Delphane … Did he have such resources at his command? And if so, then why … why the need to tail them? Perhaps it was someone else? Gestapo Paris, on repeated requests from Herr Munk in Cannes? Perhaps old friends who had been associates of Jean-Paul’s during the Stavisky business? Pierre Bonny and the boys from the rue Lauriston, eh, my friend?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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