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“He’s her nephew. She’s a woman. A kind, gentle, loving, Christian woman.”

“And that would stop you from helping me to put him in prison?”

“The way you were talking, I thought you meant you were going to put a blindfold on him and stand him against a wall.”

“If I had caught him when we liberated Strasbourg, I would have. But Général de Gaulle says that we must reunite France, not exacerbate its wounds, and as an officer, I must obey that order. The best I can hope for is that when I finally go to arrest him, he will resist and I will be justified in shooting him. If he doesn’t, he’ll probably be sentenced to twenty years. Answer the question.”

“I have no problem with your trying him as a collaborator,” Cronley said. And then, he thought aloud: “I could

tell my mother I knew nothing about him, or his arrest.”

“But you would be reluctant to lie to your mother?” Fortin challenged.

Cronley didn’t reply.

“Because she is, what did you say, ‘a kind, gentle, loving, Christian woman’?”

Again Cronley didn’t reply.

“Allow me to tell you about the kind, gentle, and loving Christian women in my life, Mr. Cronley. There have been two. One was my mother, and the second my wife. When the Mobilization came in March of 1939, I was stationed at Saumur, the cavalry school. I telephoned my mother and told her I had rented a house in Argenton, near Saint-Martin-de-Sanzay, near Saumur, and that I wanted her to come there and care for my wife, who was pregnant, and my son while I was on active service.

“She would hear nothing about it. She said that she had no intention of leaving her home to live in the country. She said what I should do is send my family to my home in Strasbourg.

“I reminded her that we seemed about to go to war, and if that happened, there was a chance—however slim—that the Germans would occupy Strasbourg as they had done before. Mother replied that it had happened before and she’d really had no trouble with the Germans.

“So my wife went to stay with my mother.

“About six months after I went to England with Général de Gaulle, the Milice and the SS appeared at her door and took my mother, my wife, and my children away for interrogation. They apparently believed that I hadn’t gone to England, but was instead here, in Strasbourg, organizing the resistance.

“That was the last anyone saw of my mother, my wife, or my children. I heard what had happened from the resistance, so the first thing I did when I got back to Strasbourg with Général Leclerc was go to the headquarters of the Milice. The collaborators, my French countrymen, had done a very good job of destroying all their records.

“I have heard, but would rather not believe, that when the Milice, my countrymen, were through with their interrogation of my mother, my wife, and my children, their bodies were thrown into the Rhine.”

“My God!” Cronley said.

“Your kids, too? Those miserable motherfuckers!” Sergeant Finney exclaimed bitterly in English.

Cronley saw on Fortin’s face that he had heard the expression before.

Which means he speaks English far better than he wanted us to think.

Of course he speaks English, stupid! He spent almost four years in England.

Both Hessinger and Finney looked at Cronley, who had his tongue pushing against his lower lip, visibly deep in thought.

Finally he said, very softly, “My sentiments exactly, Sergeant Finney.”

He turned to Fortin.

“Commandant, I really don’t know what to say.”

“I don’t expect you to say anything, Mr. Cronley,” Fortin said. “I just wanted you to understand my deep interest in your cousin, and in Odessa.”

“Just as soon as we get back, I’ll find out what General Greene knows about it, and get back to you with whatever he tells me.”

I will also go to General Gehlen, who probably knows more about Odessa than anyone else.

But I can’t tell you about Gehlen, can I, Commandant?