Free The Unspeakable Crimes of Dr. Petiot by Thomas Maeder

the few surviving witnesses as well as by the German dossier Robert Jodkum surreptitiously loaned to Massu.
    Fourrier had known Dr. Petiot for seven years. Since the rue des Mathurins, where his barbershop was located, is near the rue Caumartin, the doctor went to Fourrier for shaves and haircuts, and in turn the barber consulted him for medical problems. In May 1941, Petiot was in the shop waiting his turn when Fourrier told a story about a team of bicycle racers who were caught when they tried to cross the demarcation line into the free zone while pretending to race. * While the other patrons laughed, Petiot quietly told Fourrier he always kept a packed suitcase near the door in case he needed to flee. He had an organization that could get people safely to South America. Fourrier asked the price. “Twenty-five thousand francs per person, false papers supplied, all costs included. If you know people who need to escape …”
    France was divided into an occupied zone in the north and a free, or unoccupied, zone in the south until November 1942, when the Germans overran France all the way to the Mediterranean coast. The demarcation line, however, remained in effect until February 1943, and special permission to cross the line was generally given only for such emergencies as the sickness or death of a close relative. It was dangerous but comparatively easy to cross the line by using forged papers on public routes or by sneaking across poorly guarded border areas, as Nézondet had done.
    Leaving France altogether was more difficult and became virtually impossible after the autumn of 1942 without the aid of a large network with numerous refuges across the country and carefully planned relays. The refugees’ prime goal was Spain, from which ships would take them to England, North Africa, or South America, but the guidance of skilled mountaineers was required to cross the Pyrenees through Andorra, and alert coastal patrols made travel from France to Spain by small boat extremely dangerous. It has been estimated that only 30 percent of those who set out for Spain ever got there, though not all of the others fell victim to German patrols. There are terrible stories of passeurs who charged up to a million francs for the crossing, then demanded more when they reached the most dangerous part of the mountains or even killed their charges outright for their money. An honest network’s price in 1942 could go as high as fifty thousand francs, and the price rose quickly in time; thus, Marcel Petiot was offering a fairly good deal.
    Fourrier mentioned the escape network to his old friend Pintard. They apparently saw an opportunity to make some easy money, since Pintard set about actively recruiting customers. At a favorite café on the rue de l’Echiquier, around the corner from Pintard’s rue d’Hauteville apartment and near the major prostitution area on the rue Saint-Denis, he ran into an underworld figure named Joseph Réocreux. Réocreux, alias Iron Arm Jo, alias Jo le Boxeur, had built up an impressive résumé in his thirty-two years: prison sentences totaling five-and-a-half years for three separate thefts, a one-year sentence for pimping, which was his current means of livelihood, and revocation of his citizenship and right to travel for twenty years. He was presently sought on a 1940 assault charge, and there were four other warrants outstanding that could not be served since he was known to be under German protection in exchange for services rendered—either supplying prostitutes or information or both. He was notoriously strong and fearless, and had been known to fight and vanquish three assailants simultaneously.
    Recently, Jo le Boxeur and his copain Adrien “le Basque” Estébétéguy, disguised as Gestapo officers, had pulled off several robberies in the provinces, and his popularity with the occupying forces was on the decline. Faced with a sheaf of French warrants as