The Paris Architect: A Novel

“You’re forcing me to take a cold shower before I leave, you know that, don’t you?”






45





“What happens to all these Jews once they get to Drancy, Uncle?” asked Alain as he watched his neighbor Monsieur Valery being dragged by his hair from the apartment house entry into a black Citro?n. He was followed by his wife and two children, who were being pushed along by two Gestapo officers in plainclothes. The car sped off, and Alain turned to face his uncle, who was enjoying a cigarette. They had been viewing the whole scene from the rear seat of his personal Gestapo staff car.

Uncle Hermann took a long drag of his cigarette, then smiled at Alain.

“After a short stay at Drancy, they’re sent on a wonderful holiday in Poland. Plenty of fresh air and exercise.”

“They say they’re never seen again. None come back to Paris.”

“That’s because they enjoy it there so much. They don’t want to come back.”

“Germans seem to hate Jews even more than the French. Why is that, Uncle?”

“Because we Germans know they’re the scourge of the world. Vermin that have to be destroyed before they destroy our civilization.”

“Don’t the French also think that?”

“The French authorities sit on their asses when it comes to rounding up Jews, especially French-born Jews. They tip them off, and they’re gone by the time we get to them. But not Monsieur Valery. He was quite surprised when we knocked on his door. You did a splendid job, my boy. He was a Jew. You can always tell that heeb look. Valery paid a load of money for false papers and baptismal certificates for his kids, but it didn’t do him any good in the end. Schlegal will be quite impressed with his capture.”

“I’m glad to help, Uncle. You’ve been most kind to me and my family. You can call on me at any time.”

“I certainly will. Anyone you suspect, you let me know.”

“I’ve got a couple people in mind,” muttered Alain, who started to get out of the car.

“Before you go, I have a little surprise for you. Monsieur Valery won’t be needing his Renault on his holiday in the East. He’ll be taking the train, so I thought you might want to have it. A good-looking young fellow like you can impress many a mademoiselle with a beautiful car,” said Hermann. He jangled a set of car keys in front of Alain’s face.

Alain’s eyes lit up, and he immediately snatched the keys from his uncle’s black-gloved hand. No more begging to borrow his cousin’s car.

“You’re too generous, Uncle. No one in Paris has a car anymore.”

“And you’ll be needing petrol, so here’s a ration card. Don’t waste it; petrol is scarce.”

“Don’t you worry, Uncle, I’ll be quite careful. Where is it parked?”

“It’s the dark green one, right next to the corner. See?”

Alain couldn’t contain himself and was out the door. On the sidewalk, he called out, “Tell Colonel Schlegal that he can count on me.”

“I’ll wait to relay that information. Schlegal is in a foul mood, and I don’t want to go near him for a few days.”

Out of courtesy, Alain feigned interest. “Why’s that?”

“Oh, he lost some Jew out in a cottage near Epinay.”

“Where?”

“Epinay, about five miles north of Paris. This Jew was hiding out there. Schlegal was convinced that he was concealed in some secret hiding space within the walls of the house, so he had our men tear the place apart, stick by stick. But he couldn’t find him. Then he burned the whole goddamned house down, but no Jew. It turned out that he’d been hiding under a big fake floor drain in the kitchen in the basement. There was this tunnel that led from it into a garden. That’s how he escaped. Schlegal went crazy.”

“This was a cottage in Epinay?”