Free Gypsy by J. Robert Janes

Oslo were worlds apart, so what could it have mattered eh? But it did! Oh my, yes, but it did!’
    â€˜Is she now your mouton ?’ asked St-Cyr.
    A little more co-operation could not hurt. ‘That is correct. She betrayed the Gypsy to us in Tours, and she was with him back then in Oostende and in Oslo in April of 1938.’
    â€˜But she didn’t tell you everything, did she?’ sighed St-Cyr, taking an apprehensive guess at things.
    There was no answer. They waited for her file cards – the Gestapo’s on her too – but Herr Max didn’t produce any. He simply said, ‘Find her,’ and gave them time to swallow this while he had his egg and brandy.
    Then he pulled the elastic band from the stack of cards and thrust the top one at Kohler. ‘ Read it !’
    Hermann’s face fell. ‘Mecklenburg, Louis. 20 November 1932. The estate of Magda Goebbels’s ex-husband. An unknown quantity of gold bars and jewellery. How can anyone have an “unknown” quantity in a safe?’
    â€˜That is none of your business,’ countered the visitor.
    â€˜The manager’s office, the Kaiserhof Hotel in the Wilhelmstrasse, 17 March 1934. “Cash in the amount of 25,000 marks but also 8000 American dollars and one gold pocket-watch. Property of …” Ah verdammt , Louis, der Führer!’
    â€˜Read on,’ sighed Engelmann. ‘It can’t get worse but then …’
    â€˜The residence and office of the Köln banker, Kurt von Schroe-der, 5 May 1935, a strong supporter of the Party, I think,’ said Kohler lamely. ‘Jewellery to the value of 7,000,000 marks; cash to that of 28,000,000. Do you want me to keep going?’
    â€˜Of course,’ grunted Engelmann.
    â€˜The villa of Alfred Rosenburg in the Tiergarten, 15 December 1937. Documents …?’
    Again they were told it was none of their business, but there had been some loose diamonds, gold coins and banknotes, though no values were given.
    â€˜The residence of Prinz Viktor zo Wied – Berlin, too, the Kurfürstenstrasse, 17 January 1938, then Joachim von Ribben-trop’s villa in the suburb of Dahlem, 18 January, the same year.’
    Von Ribbentrop had been made foreign minister of the Reich on 4 February, just seventeen days after the robbery. Kohler felt quite ill. How had the Gypsy pulled off those jobs in a police state? Why had the idiot taken on the Nazis , for God’s sake? None of the robberies would have been mentioned even to the IKPK’s member countries, let alone the press, yet the hunt must have gone on in earnest.
    â€˜And in Oslo we finally had him,’ sighed Herr Max. ‘That’s when all the pieces came together for us.’
    â€˜Correction,’ said Louis. ‘The Norwegians had him.’
    â€˜But soon we had Norway.’
    Not until 9 June 1940. ‘Then why didn’t you have him extradited? Surely there was room enough in the Moabit?’
    Berlin’s most notorious prison. ‘Because his willingness to co-operate was absent. Because we had other matters to concern us.’
    â€˜You finally made a deal with him,’ snorted Kohler. ‘You let that son of a bitch out of jail but he didn’t keep his word and now you want him back.’
    â€˜Correction,’ interjected Boemelburg. ‘We have to have him back.’
    â€˜ Ah nom de Jésus-Christ, Louis, why us ?’
    The stairwell resounded with their taking two and three steps at a time. ‘Because we’re common crime. Because the quartier de l’Europe, that favoured haunt of les Gitans , was once my beat long before I was fool enough to become a detective.’ St-Cyr caught a breath as they reached a landing. ‘And because, mon vieux … because, why sacré, idiot ! they’re up to something.’
    Kohler stopped so suddenly they collided. ‘ What ?’ he demanded, looking his partner over.
    Louis’s