I don’t know where they are taking me and I don’t ask.
I wish we could drive for days—for years. To see the world beyond the view from my cell window is now the greatest luxury. I drink in the sights and the sounds. But the trip is over all too soon. The guards accompany me up the steps of an unfamiliar building and escort me down barren halls. I am delivered to a room that has two windows. Behind a desk sits Commandant Ladoux and next to him is Captain Bouchardon, both looking grim and impatient. I freeze when I see them; at that moment Edouard joins me. He puts his hand on the small of my back and pushes me forward.
“There’s nothing I want to say to these men,” I whisper as I sit next to Edouard. My guards remain at the door. Are they concerned that I will make a mad run for freedom?
“My client has something to tell you,” Edouard says. “I believe it will clear up this grave misunderstanding, and we will all come to agree that Mata Hari is being imprisoned unjustly and must be released at once. She is no more guilty of espionage than you or I. She is merely a foolish woman with the regrettable habit of bedding the wrong men. A woman who routinely couples ill-advised liaisons with requests for compensation.”
He’s calling me a whore. If he believes this will free me, then I will play the role of a foolish whore.
Captain Bouchardon says, “Speak,” and everyone looks at me.
“It would be cowardly to defend myself against such actions as I have taken,” I begin.
Edouard interrupts me. “The day you met Consul Cramer,” he prompts. “Was that the first time you’d ever spoken with him?”
“Yes.”
“We’ve heard this before,” Ladoux declares. He starts to stand.
Edouard gestures for him to wait and Ladoux sits down. “When you asked Consul Cramer for compensation for your furs—what was his response?”
“Consul Cramer told me that the consulate never reimburses travelers for lost clothing. That this is true in times of peace as well as war.”
Ladoux rubs his temple impatiently.
“He then asked me the market value of my confiscated property and gave me a check. For twenty thousand marks. He said it was a favor, an acknowledgment of who I am. And he said that he would inform his superiors that I agreed to keep my ears and eyes open on behalf of Germany.”
There’s silence in the room. “I agreed and accepted the check.”
“So your payment—” Ladoux begins.
“Was compensation for stolen furs. I never intended to spy for Germany; what he told his superiors was untrue. I agreed to his suggestion because I take when someone has taken from me—”
“My client is telling the truth. She took the money from Consul Cramer because German soldiers seized her furs while she was a passenger on a train bound for Paris.”
“When I first made France my home,” I add, “I took a train to Paris. I was without money and without clothes—”
“The furs aren’t the point!” Bouchardon interrupts. He addresses Edouard. “If she wants us to believe that she regularly travels with twenty thousand marks’ worth of furs, so be it. What we find incredibly difficult to believe, Monsieur Clunet, is that a German consul would lie to his superiors about such a sum of money and what its purpose was.” Bouchardon is stone-faced. “We are at war. Her story is preposterous.”
“What do you believe the truth to be?” Edouard demands.
“Don’t concern yourself with what we believe, counselor.” Bouchardon glances at Ladoux. “Concern yourself with what we know. We have proof that the twenty thousand marks in discussion were paid in exchange for espionage, Monsieur Clunet. Not furs. Not liaisons. It was payment from Germany for espionage against France.”
“Show me this proof,” Edouard demands.
“I’m sorry.” Bouchardon stands and Ladoux follows. “It’s a matter of national security now. We will see the both of you at trial.”
The men leave without sparing me a glance.
The guards escort me out of the room immediately; I don’t have time for a single private word with Edouard. I have no idea what to expect from a trial. I just pray that Edouard is able to bribe his way back to my cell and explain it to me.
Chapter 20
Trial by Court Martial
July 24, 1917
This time seven guards are deemed necessary to escort me from my cell in the Conciergerie to the black car waiting outside to convey me to the Palais de Justice. I have had only one visit since my disastrous meeting with Bouchardon and Ladoux—from Bowtie. I haven’t heard a word from Edouard.