“Yes, of course,” Ruby said, trying to sound calm. From the corner of her eye, she could see Christopher turn down a side street behind her. The police didn’t seem to notice him, which filled her with some relief—but it was short-lived. Why were they stopping her if it wasn’t because of the pilot?
She rummaged in her purse and withdrew her papers—she carried only her real ones now, the ones that identified her as Ruby Benoit. She was sure that even if the Germans had something on her, they wouldn’t execute her for fear of reprisal from the U.S. government. It was her trump card, but perhaps she was being overly optimistic.
“This says you were born in the United States,” the mustached officer said, glaring at her. “What are you doing here?”
“I am French by marriage.”
“Where are you going?”
“Just out for a stroll.” She could tell by the look on his face that it was the wrong answer. “I needed to stretch my legs.”
He frowned. “What is your address?”
“Twenty-four, rue Amélie.” She gave him the old address without hesitation, because she didn’t want anything to lead to the new apartment. Charlotte was there, and Ruby wouldn’t put her in danger.
“Most people out for a stroll would walk toward the river,” the officer said.
“I wanted to be alone,” she replied. “There are crowds near the river on a beautiful day like today.”
“So you were not going to the Montparnasse station,” he said with a smirk, “to aid in the escape of Allied pilots.”
Ruby could feel her mouth go dry, but she forced a neutral expression. “What? Of course not.”
“And you’re certain that’s the story you want to stick with?”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
He grabbed her handbag and began to rifle through. Her mind spun as she wondered whether she’d mistakenly left anything incriminating in it. She didn’t think so, but a moment later, he withdrew a bundle of ration tickets.
“You live with your husband?” His expression told her he already knew that Marcel was dead.
“No. He died in 1941.”
“Yes. I am aware. The traitor Marcel Benoit.”
Ruby swallowed hard. So she hadn’t been stopped on a whim. They had sought her out. This was much worse. “My husband wasn’t a traitor. The evidence against him was false.”
The officer guffawed. “Madame, we do not make mistakes. But you, it seems, have made a serious one. Why do you have so many ration tickets if you live alone?”
She thought quickly. “I offered to pick up some supplies for neighbors.”
“Ah. And these neighbors—as you call them—are not Allied pilots trying to escape from France?”
“Of course not!” Ruby tried to appear indignant.
“Ah yes, I’d nearly forgotten. You’re merely out for a walk.” He grabbed her by the arm and shoved her toward the car. The other officer, who’d been in front of her, took her other arm, while the man who’d been behind her walked around to the driver’s seat.
“What are you doing?” Ruby demanded. “I have rights!”
The men laughed as they shoved her roughly into the back of the car. The mustached man climbed in beside her. “Unfortunately for you, madame, that isn’t true at all.”
AT THE POLICE HEADQUARTERS, RUBY was thrown into a small cell by herself and told to wait. She spent the day worrying about Charlotte. What if the police found out where Ruby lived now? What if Charlotte was arrested? Ruby still felt confident that her own American citizenship would spare her from execution. But if they found Charlotte, it would be only a matter of time until they realized she was Jewish. How had Ruby allowed her to participate in something so dangerous? The guilt overwhelmed her, and she sat on the floor sobbing until nightfall, when a guard came to retrieve her, yanking her to her feet and hauling her into a room that looked like an office.
Inside, she found two uniformed guards waiting for her. “Tell us everything you know,” one of them said without preamble. “If you lie to us, you’ll be shot first thing in the morning.”
Ruby struggled to keep a neutral face. Her hands went to her belly. Breathe, she reminded herself. Stay calm. They have nothing on you, or you’d already be dead. “I haven’t done anything,” she said evenly. “You have made a mistake. I am American. You can’t execute me.”
The guard shrugged. “Have it your way.”
A female guard entered a moment later with a bologna sandwich and a cup of water, and though Ruby worried that the food had been drugged, she wolfed it down; she was starving. Soon after, another guard came in and dragged her to a cold, damp cell with a straw mattress on a dirt floor. “Get some sleep,” he said, not unkindly, and then he closed and locked the door behind her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
April 1944
“Ruby has been arrested.” Lucien’s face was pale when he arrived at Charlotte’s door that night, far later than she’d expected him. She had been pacing the apartment, worried sick that Ruby hadn’t come home. The last Charlotte had heard, Ruby was on her way to deliver Christopher, the American pilot, to the Montparnasse station. Had he been careless? Followed her too closely? Drawn unwanted attention to both of them? Charlotte had been bracing for the worst as the hours rolled by with no sign of Ruby, but Lucien’s words still broke her.
“No, no, no.” Charlotte was suddenly unable to breathe. “There must be a mistake. Lucien, tell me there’s a mistake.”
He shook his head slowly. “There is no mistake, my dear. The Feldgendarmerie picked her up hours ago. She’s to be turned over to the Gestapo in the morning.”
“No. Lucien, how did this happen?”
Lucien didn’t reply until after he’d stepped into the apartment and she’d closed the door behind them. “Someone must have betrayed her. They knew exactly who she was when they stopped her. From what I understand, they didn’t even notice the pilot tailing her. He made it to his rendezvous point at the station; he’s the one who told us of her arrest.”
“Did they hurt her?”
“I don’t know.” He took her hands. “But, Charlotte, Ruby is strong. She will survive whatever they throw at her, and they won’t dare execute her, because she is an American. She will survive.”
“But she’s pregnant,” Charlotte whispered.
All the remaining color seemed to drain from Lucien’s face. “What?”
Charlotte began to cry; she had promised Ruby that she’d keep her secret, but things were very different now. “If the Germans find out . . .”
“Thomas is the father?”
“Yes.”
“The pregnancy isn’t visible yet?”
“Not really.” Ruby’s belly had begun to swell, but not enough that someone who didn’t know her would take notice.
“That’s good. But if she’s sent east . . .” Lucien’s voice trailed off, and he and Charlotte exchanged horrified looks.
“They kill the pregnant ones first,” Charlotte said, her voice hollow. “That’s what I’ve heard.”
“Let’s just hope for now that it does not come to that. I will try tomorrow to find out everything I can about her situation.” He paused. “In the meantime, I think you should stay with me. If they’ve arrested Ruby, it’s only a matter of time before the trail leads to this apartment. I will speak with Monsieur Savatier about removing anything incriminating, but for now, Charlotte, we must go. Quickly.”
Charlotte wiped her eyes and nodded. It was only a place, after all. What was important was that they all found a way to survive.
“I will do everything in my power to make sure she’s okay,” Lucien said, as if reading her mind.
“Thank you,” Charlotte replied. But the words felt hollow, because she knew he could do only so much. For now, Ruby was on her own, and her fate rested in the hands of the increasingly hostile German authorities.