A YOUNG SUCCUBUS NAMED DELICIA by Michel Poulin - HTML preview

CHAPTER 5 – THE PAINS OF RATIONING

 

11:46 (Paris Time)

Saturday, August 3, 1940

Kitchen of the ‘Mille et Une Nuits’ Cabaret

34 Rue Saint-André-des-Arts, Quartier Latin, 6th Arrondissement Paris, Occupied France

Marie Laurent threw with frustrated anger a small package of meat wrapped in waxed paper on top of the kitchen table of the cabaret.

‘’Look at what our rationing coupons gave me for all fifteen of us for today: less than a pound of poor-quality beef! And I spent over three hours in line for this!’’ Marie then sat down heavily at the kitchen table as the cabaret’s cook looked with discouragement at the small slab of fat beef.

‘’I am afraid that I am going to have to use it to make a soup, if I want to have something for everyone, madam. Were you able to get some cooking oil at the same time?’’

‘’No! When my turn came, it was only to be told that there was already no cooking oil left. This is crazy! How the hell are we supposed not to starve on such rations?’’

Mélanie, who had been helping Sylvie Renaudin in the kitchen, looked down grimly at the piece of beef. She herself needed very little standard food, thanks to her demonic nature, her main source of feeding being the sexual energy she collected from her bed partners. However, that left the other girls of the cabaret and her mother on near-starvation diets, if she could judge from that first day of official rationing. A look of resolve then appeared on her face and she made an announcement in a calm voice.

‘’Don’t worry, Mother: I will take care of finding adequate food for all of us.’’ While Marie understood quickly what she had in mind, since she knew the kind of powers held by her very special daughter, Sylvie Renaudin gave Mélanie a cautious look. While everybody in the cabaret loved the teenage girl, and while Mélanie was returning their love, there was a mysterious, sometimes sinister aura about her. For one thing, Mélanie had never hesitated to become violent, or even cruel, when angered or insulted

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by someone, especially during her first years of life at the cabaret. She also had proved to be abnormally strong for a girl and was also way more mature than what one could expect from such a young girl. Mélanie then walked out of the kitchen, prompting a shouted question from Marie.

‘’WHERE ARE YOU GOING, MÉLANIE?’’

‘’GOING OUT FOR A WALK, MOTHER. I WILL BE BACK IN TIME FOR OPENING TIME.’’

Mélanie effectively came back about one hour later, her hands empty. Marie accosted her at once near the service entrance, speaking in a near whisper to her.

‘’So, where did you go, Mélanie?’’

‘’At the Gare de Lyon10, Mother. I simply went there to conduct a little reconnaissance and find out when trains of interest would pass by there on the way to Germany. The main reason why we are now suffering this food rationing system is because the Germans are pilfering most of what France produces in terms of foodstuff and other goods. What better way to solve our food supply problems than to steal from the thief who is starving us?’’

While stunned for a moment by the audacity of Mélanie’s project, the idea made Marie smile with amusement.

‘’To steal from a thief… A quite elegant and righteous solution indeed, my dear daughter.’’

02:11 (Paris Time)

Tuesday, August 6, 1940

Rail yard of the Lyon train station

12th Arrondissement, Paris

The rail yard of the Gare de Lyon, one of the four main train stations in Paris, was a truly vast space, extending for two and a half kilometers in length and up to 400 meters in width, with up to twelve main lines and rail sidings running in parallel. It was also quite congested, with many trains and hundreds of rail cars occupying the rail

10 Gare de Lyon: Lyon Train Station, one of the main train stations in Paris, with rail lines heading East and South.

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sidings in the triage areas and with more trains along the embarkation quays. While some trains were dedicated to the transport of passengers and commuters, most of the rail cars in the yard area were cargo cars of one kind or another, filled with tens of thousands of tons of merchandises, goods or foodstuff. Tonight, Mélanie was expressly interested in the rail cars loaded with foodstuff and heading to Germany. Having used her power of invisibility to walk past the German soldiers and French policemen patrolling the perimeter of the rail yard, she was now searching for a specific train due to depart for Germany in the morning. She had learned about that train, the nature of its cargo and its schedule, by secretly consulting two days before the yard’s arrival and departure schedules for cargo trains, held in the central control room of the yard. She also had the schedule for another train of interest for her which would leave for Germany in two days.

Being back to normal, but wearing dark clothes which made her very difficult to see at night in the middle of the obscure, crowded yard, where she could quickly slip under a rail car if someone approached, Mélanie walked between two parallel files of parked rail cars, checking their shipping codes against the list she had copied in the yard’s control center. She suddenly froze on seeing a pair of German soldiers some fifty yards ahead, standing guard near one end of a rail car that was part of another train. Looking carefully, she then saw two more German soldiers posted further ahead and guarding the same train. Mélanie had a mean smile as she visually examined that particular train: the presence of German soldiers denoted a cargo of some importance at the least, even if the numbers on that train did not correspond to the ones she was looking for. This was definitely worth investigating. Returning under invisibility, Mélanie then silently approached the nearest German sentries, intent on walking past them without being noticed. As she did so and passed within maybe five paces of one of them, who was chatting with his comrade while smoking a cigarette, she noticed something curious: they were wearing the uniforms of Luftwaffe soldiers, the German air force, instead of army uniforms. Nearly two months spent bedding and milking for information a multitude of German officers had taught her by now how to recognize German uniform types and ranks. Did that mean that the cargo of that train belonged to the Luftwaffe? Now more curious than ever, Mélanie continued to advance, until she was about midway along the length of that train. Now standing in front of the side sliding door of a rail car, she turned into ethereal form, becoming essentially like an immaterial ghost, and floated

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up and through the car’s closed door. Going partially through a pile of wooden crates, she rematerialized once in the narrow space that had been left empty in the middle of the rail car, which was nearly filled with piles of crates stacked high. The fact that the piles of crates had been carefully lashed down and protected from shocks by inserting folded canvas and even old bed mattresses between the piles of crates spiked Mélanie’s curiosity. Approaching the nearest pile of wooden crates, she read the markings on the crates. She couldn’t help step back from the surprise, not having expected this.

‘’Bottles of Dom Pérignon Champagne? Who the hell could afford such an expensive Champagne and in such a quantity?’’

Wanting to make sure, she inspected the other piles of crates and actually found out that the rail car contained an assortment of Champagne of many brands, all of them expensive and of high quality, plus crates and crates of fine vintage wine and expensive bottles of liquors, including cognac. She then understood what all this was about: some Luftwaffe bigwig must have ‘requisitioned’ all those rare and expensive bottles for his personal use and was having them shipped to his residence in Germany. That would definitely explain the presence of Luftwaffe soldiers guarding the train. But then, why guard the whole train rather than this rail car alone. The truth then struck her like a hammer.

‘’By Lucifer! This whole train is loaded with luxury goods stolen by some Luftwaffe general! I should be able to find even more treasures, apart from these bottles. Marie is going to be proud of me!’’

What she couldn’t know and never learned was that she was in the process of plundering a train full of luxury items destined for Feldmarschal Herman Göring, the commander of the Luftwaffe and the number two man in the Nazi Party. She then started taking select crates of bottles out of the piles, piling them by pairs. She next grabbed the first pair of stacked crates and teleported out of the rail car, rematerializing inside of her ‘Ali Baba Cave’ under the cabaret. Taking only the time to make a few steps in order to put down her crates away from her memorized materialization spot, she teleported back to the rail car full of bottles and grabbed another pair of crates before jumping again. Ten minutes later, with a good forty crates of fine bottles inside her cave, Mélanie decided to go check the rest of the rail cars of this train. The next car didn’t disappoint her, as it turned out to be a refrigerated rail car full of meat, fish, seafood, pâtés and cold cuts. Those items then got transferred by her by wholesale boxes to the cabaret, with Mélanie hauling away over 600 pounds of boxes, containers and tins. The

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third rail car she visited was also a refrigerated car, but this time set at freezing and full of big slabs of beef and pork, cartons of cut meat, ducks and whole chickens. She however made only selective dents in the content of that rail car, as the ice box and refrigerator in the cabaret had a limited volume capacity. In the fourth rail car, she found and hauled away big bags of coffee beans, dried tea leaves and refined sugar, plus a few smaller bags of varied spices, including black pepper.

Tired from the energy she had spent doing all those teleportation jumps, she took a short break once back in the train. Reviewing mentally all the stuff that she had already hauled away to the cabaret, she decided to concentrate afterwards on more basic foodstuff items. In that she got a bit disappointed, as it seemed that the Luftwaffe bigwig didn’t care about stealing such basic items as flour, potatoes or fresh vegetables. She did however find a refrigerated car full of dairy products, where she took away a few crates of butter and a fine selection of cheese, plus a few dozen eggs. Once she had returned from that last trip, she left the Luftwaffe train and continued her search for the train she initially was looking for. After another half hour of looking around the rail yard, she finally found that train. Mélanie nodded her head with satisfaction when she entered the first car of that train: it was full of big bags of flour.

‘’Now, that’s what I really wanted! Let’s get to work!’’

06:50 (Paris Time)

Wednesday, August 7, 1940

Master bedroom of the ‘Mille et Une Nuits’ Cabaret 34 Rue Saint-André-des-Arts, Quartier Latin

Marie Laurent woke up slowly, not really wanting to get up yet. However, things had to be organized and costumes washed and prepared for the shows to be given to the customers who will come to the cabaret in the evening. Getting out of bed with a sigh of regret, Marie threw a robe over her night gown and put on a pair of slippers, then went to her private bathroom to comb her hair and wash her face with cold water. With that done, she went down to the ground floor via the service staircase at the back of the cabaret, ending up near the door of the combined kitchen/dining room. A delicious smell immediately caught her nostrils and, now curious, she entered the kitchen to investigate. There, she found her cook, helped by Mélanie, cooking fresh eggs and slices of ham,

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while half of her dancing girls and employees were sitting around the dining table, hungrily wolfing down full plates of food. Stunned, Marie slowly approached the kitchen counter, where a large ham lay beside two dozen eggs and a pound of butter.

‘’How…where did all this come from?’’ asked Marie, somehow suspecting already what the answer would be. Mélanie, busy cutting slices from a fresh bread, grinned to her in response.

‘’I went and stole from a big thief, Mother. Do you want a bit of foie gras11 with your bread?’’

‘’You have foie gras? Mon Dieu! I am in Paradise! You didn’t take too many risks to get these things, I hope?’’

Conscious that the employees eating around the table were carefully listening while stuffing their mouths, Mélanie gave her mother a reassuring smile.

‘’It was actually much easier than I expected, Mother. I found hundreds of parked rail cars on the sidings of the Gare de Lyon last night, none of them guarded, and found a train loaded with requisitioned foodstuff being shipped to Germany. So, I entered a couple of the cars and helped myself to those goodies. I think that I will have to make such nightly visits to rail yards a habit.’’

‘’That was a brilliant initiative, Mélanie.’’ said happily their doorman, Paul Dujardin. ‘’Maybe I should accompany you on your next nightly expedition, to help you carry your loot.’’

‘’With your limp? Thank you but no, Paul: if we get spotted, then you won’t be able to flee fast enough. On the other hand, I am very agile and fast and can carry quite a lot in my old backpack.’’

To Mélanie’s and Marie’s relief, Dujardin didn’t insist, recognizing the good sense of the teenager’s objection. However, Marie gave a cautionary word to all present.

‘’I don’t need to tell you what would happen if any of you brags about this around the neighborhood and if the Germans hear about it: we would then all be as good as dead. Please keep all this to yourselves and act and complain as if we are suffering from that damn rationing program like everybody else. Am I clear on that?’’ All her employees quietly nodded their heads in understanding, fully getting her point. Discretely signaling to Mélanie to follow her out of the kitchen and into the nearby

 

11 Foie gras: Liver pâté in French.

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storage room, Marie closed the door behind them and whispered a question to her demonic daughter.

‘’How much stuff did you really steal last night, Mélanie?’’

‘’Enough to serve a perpetual luxury banquet for all of us for a few weeks, Mother. I stumbled on a train loaded with luxury foodstuff and guarded by Luftwaffe soldiers. Those items were probably requisitioned on orders from some Luftwaffe bigwig who likes good food and wine. I even found and brought back many fine bottles of vintage wine, including bottles of Champagne.’’

Her last sentence made Marie think for a second.

‘’Hum, a Luftwaffe bigwig who likes good food and wine… That sounds like that fat pig of Feldmarschal Göring, the head of the Luftwaffe. So, we are going to dine on what he stole in France. I have to say that I like the idea. Well done, Mélanie!’’

‘’Thanks, Mother! By the way, we also have fresh coffee… Real fresh coffee.’’ Mélanie didn’t have to repeat herself, as Marie rushed back at once into the kitchen.

01:17 (Paris Time)

Saturday, August 17, 1940

Rail yard of the Gare de l’Est

10th Arrondissement, Paris

By now, Mélanie had adopted a pattern of visiting different rail yards at intervals of a few days, in order to avoid raising the Germans’ suspicions. This time, she was roaming the rail sidings area of the Gare de l’Est, the Paris train station from which came and went trains from the East…and Germany’s industrial region of the Ruhr. Mélanie was also searching at random, as she had learned from experience that trains used by the German military often were not identified as such on the unclassified schedules posted in the stations’ control centers. She had found instead that reading the various signs attached to each rail car was a better and easier way to know the general nature of their cargo. Of course, any rail cars guarded by German soldiers attracted her immediate attention. She thus knew that she was on to something when she saw a German soldier guarding the tail end of a rail car on which the warning sign for explosives was hooked. That car was in turn the last one of a long train, with more soldiers visible at a distance in the light provided by a near full moon. Using a by now standard tactic for her, she became invisible, then quietly approached the rail car,

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passing by the German sentry an going to the side door of the car. Next, she turned into ethereal form and floated up and through the door, rematerializing once inside. In the car, she found only enough free room to stand near the sliding door, staring at big piles of wooden crates. The inscriptions in German on the crate nearest to her face made her smile with satisfaction.

‘’Anti-tank mines, hey? That could come handy one day.’’ Mélanie then started a well-practiced drill by now, extracting crates from the piles and teleporting to her cave under the cabaret with as much as she could carry, then teleporting back for more. She decided to move to the next rail car after carrying away twenty of the large anti-tank mines. She again switched to ethereal form to effectuate that move but, on arriving inside the next car, found it filled with the same kind of anti-tank mines as in the first, so moved again to the next car. To her surprise, the first twelve rail cars she visited all contained anti-tank mines, for a total of at least a few tens of thousands. She paused for a moment then, thinking about what that could mean. While no military expert, she knew that mines were typically used to defend fixed locations. Since the train manifest she had seen, while devoid of much information about the cargo, stated the final destination to be the coastal town of Calais, to the northwest of Paris, then these mines were probably destined to reinforce the coastal defenses presently held by the Germans facing England from across the English Channel. Deciding to continue on, Mélanie went to the thirteenth rail car. This time, she found piles and piles of wooden boxes containing anti-personnel mines. Taking the time to carry away a good quantity of those mines, she then went to the next car. That car, along with the eight ones after that, also contained anti-personnel mines. Starting to wonder if that train carried nothing but land mines, Mélanie went yet again to a new car. She felt her hopes going up when she saw at once that the crates and boxes in that car were very different from those containing mines. There were in fact two distinctly different types of containers, each segregated from the other type. Going to one of the large and flat wooden crates, she used a small crowbar that experience had taught her to carry on her nightly escapades and forced open the nailed cover of the crate as quietly as she could. What she saw inside made her grin with contentment: a modern-looking medium machine gun was packed inside, along with a tall tripod mount, a set of large sights, a spare barrel, belt ammunition holders and a maintenance and cleaning kit, all of it brand new and still unused. She also saw a packing list, which title she read.

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‘’MG34 medium machine gun, caliber 7.92mm, with anti-aircraft tripod and sights kit… That would certainly make sense to have as a fixed defensive weapon along a coastline.’’

Examining carefully the content of the crate, she

found a small manual about basic maintenance and

operation of the MG34, something that attracted a grin

on her face.

‘’Thank Lucifer for German efficiency and

thoroughness! I definitely want a few of these babies.’’

She went next to the other type of boxes, much smaller but still quite heavy, piled at the opposite end of the car. She found them to be boxes of linked 7.92mm belts of ammunition for the MG-34s. That spurred her into starting a round of teleporting jumps, carrying away eight of the machine gun kits, plus dozens of boxes of 7.92mm linked ammunition.

As she was jumping back from the cave to the rail yard one more time, she was surprised to bounce back in the open and fall on the gravel between two rail sidings, instead of rematerializing inside the car containing the machine guns. She understood at once what happened when she saw that the car she wanted to return to was now moving, along with the rest of the train: her intended return location now being occupied by solid objects, she had been bounced off to the nearest empty space, in this case the side of the rail line. Looking quickly around her, Mélanie froze at once, her heart jumping in her chest: a German soldier was standing barely twenty feet from her, staring at her with disbelieving eyes and too stunned to point his rifle…yet. Swearing mentally, she teleported again to her cave, not letting time to the German to recover from his shock. Once inside the cave, she blew air out in relief.

‘’By the Abyss, that was close! I think that I will call it a night. What I did get tonight is certainly not to spit at, after all.’’

What she couldn’t know was that the same German efficiency and thoroughness she had earlier praised while at the Gare de l’Est was going to eventually bite her in the ass.

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14:40 (Paris Time)

Monday, August 19, 1940

German military headquarters for the Greater Paris area Hotel Meurice, Rue de Rivoli

1st Arrondissement, Paris

The young and dashing captain of the Feldgendarmerie12 came to a loud halt, clicking his heels while crisply saluting the colonel sitting behind a large desk.

‘’Hauptmann Michel Koenig, reporting as ordered, Herr Oberst13!’’

‘’At ease, Hauptmann Koenig! First off, may I present you Hauptmann Dietrich Mannerheim, of the Abwehr?’’

The young and fit man wearing a good civilian suit and sitting in an easy chair to the right of Oberst Karl Brumberg’s work desk got up and shook hands with Michel. His grip proved strong, while his face reflected both honesty and intelligence.

‘’Pleased to meet you, Hauptmann Koenig.’’

‘’Pleased to meet you as well, Hauptmann Mannerheim.’’

‘’Please, sit down, both of you, so that I could brief you on the reason why I called you in.’’ then cut politely Brumberg, who spoke again as soon as both junior officers were seated.

‘’Hauptmann Koenig, you remember that little incident at the Gare de l’Est, early last Saturday morning?’’

‘’About the claim by one of the sentries on duty in the shunting yard about seeing a civilian girl come out of an ammunition train and then disappearing in the night? Yes, I do, Herr Oberst. I investigated it but, lacking other witnesses or evidence, I was forced to close that case with precious little to show for.’’

‘’I know and I read your short report on that incident yesterday. We however have now some extra evidence at our disposal, evidence that shows that a sizeable quantity of land mines, plus eight medium machine guns and a large stock of 7.92mm ammunition, went missing from that train. The logistical officer in charge of directing the unloading of that train in Calais noticed serious discrepancies when comparing the shipping manifest with the quantities taken out of the train. It thus appears that someone,

12 Feldgendarmerie: German military police. 13 Oberst: German rank equivalent to a colonel.

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possibly French civilians, indeed stole items from that train while it was stopped at the Gare de l’Est.’’

Michel Koenig’s expression sobered up at once on hearing those words.

‘’If French diehards indeed stole from us eight medium machine guns and a large stock of land mines, then they could cause a lot of damage and casualties with those.’’

‘’Agreed! That is why I am reopening the investigation on this incident at the Gare de l’Est, with a high priority attached to it. I also alerted our logistics staff to keep an eye for and report any future discrepancies about shipments of weapons and ammunition passing by Paris. We must catch those thieves before they could get more weapons. Since this could implicate French civilians, I asked for the assistance of the Abwehr, who sent me Hauptmann Mannerheim. You will thus be working together on this case.’’

‘’Uh, who will have overall charge of this investigation, Herr Oberst?’’ asked Michel, glancing at the same time at Mannerheim.

‘’You will, Hauptmann Koenig! However, I encourage you to fully use the competence of Hauptmann Mannerheim when investigating French nationals. How is your French, by the way?’’

‘’Excellent, Herr Oberst! I was born and raised near the Rhine, opposite Strasbourg, and had many French friends there before the war.’’

‘’Good! You may get to use your French during this investigation. Since this could be the proverbial tip of the iceberg, check if other military equipment or supplies have been declared lost or missing around Paris during the last few weeks. We may be facing a French black market network getting fat at our expense. By the way, here is the copy of the list of weapons which went missing from that train. Keep me posted if you find anything new.’’

‘’I will, Herr Oberst!’’ promised Michel, getting up with Mannerheim and taking the document from Brumberg’s hand before saluting him. Both junior officers then pivoted on their heels and walked out of the colonel’s office.

Michel Koenig next led Dietrich Mannerheim to his own office, located one floor down from Brumberg’s office, offering him a chair before sitting behind his desk and looking at his new partner.

‘’Well, the least that can be said about this case is that clues don’t abound.’’

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‘’True!’’ replied the Abwehr agent. ‘’But we still can infer a few things from the little we know.’’

‘’Like?’’

‘’Like the fact that it would have taken quite a few men to steal all those machine guns from that train. That girl our sentry saw could not possibly have been able to carry away such big and heavy gun crates by herself.’’

‘’Hum, true enough! Then, what was she doing near our train?’’

‘’Maybe she was acting as a scout for the gang of thieves, checking out the content of the rail cars. Maybe she had nothing at all to do with the theft of our weapons: she could have been looking for food to steal and stumbled on the wrong train.’’

‘’That last possibility is quite plausible, I must say, Dietrich. On the other hand, we should not jump to conclusions too fast: those weapons may have been stolen before that train arrived in Paris. I think that we should check out if that train did any other stops between Germany and Calais. I can check that out right away.’’

‘’And I will check if other thefts of equipment or supplies were reported in previous weeks. I will call you if something comes up on my side.’’ Mannerheim took the time to note down the telephone number for Koenig’s office, then walked out as the feldgendarmerie man placed a call to the head of the German military rail movement section of the headquarters.

16:58 (Paris Time)

Paris headquarters of the Luftwaffe14 Hotel Ritz, 15 Place Vendôme, 1st Arrondissement

Having found nothing at the local headquarters of the Heer15 about past theft of equipment from trains coming from Germany, Dietrich Mannerheim next went to the Ritz Hotel, which housed the offices of the Luftwaffe in Paris. Getting from the reception in the hotel lobby directions for the office of the head of the supplies department, he went up to the second floor and knocked on the door of a Major Fritz Stammer.

‘’Come in!’’

 

14 Luftwaffe: Name of the German air force in World War 2. 15 Heer: Name of the German Army in World War 2.

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Opening the door and walking in, Dietrich came to a military halt in front of the large work desk of Major Stammer, a big and slightly overweight officer with a shaved head, saluting him.

‘’Hauptmann Dietrich Mannerheim, of the Paris office of the Abwehr, Herr Major. I came here as part of an investigation about the theft of army weapons from a train which had stopped in Paris while on its way to Calais. Was there any theft of Luftwaffe supplies from a train in Paris signaled to your services in the last few weeks, Herr Major?’’

Stammer’s reaction to his question surprised Dietrich by its speed and fierceness.

‘’Other trains were looted while in Paris?’’

‘’Uh, should I conclude from your reply that the Luftwaffe also had supplies stolen from a train, Herr Major?’’

‘’Damn right you are, Hauptmann! I just inherited this desk because my predecessor was recently demoted on direct orders from Feldmarschal Göring! A train requisitioned by the Feldmarschal and carrying luxury goods to Munich was looted two weeks ago.’’

‘’And may I ask what exactly was stolen, Herr Major?’’

‘’Dozens of crates of fine bottles of wine, Champagne and spirits, plus a few hundred kilos of frozen game meat, fine cheese, seafood and even a few bags of coffee beans and of sugar. Give me a moment and I will show you the list of the missing items.’’

As Stammer searched through the files and papers piled on his work desk, Dietrich’s mind went into overdrive: so, it was not only weapons that the unknown thieves were after, but also foodstuff, and expensive items at that. Also, there was the fact that this Luftwaffe train was heading to Germany, instead of coming from it. The whole scope of his joint investigation with Koenig would thus have to be readjusted drastically. Stammer soon found what he was looking for and handed him a document.

‘’This is the manifest of the train that was looted, Hauptmann. You may copy down the items marked as ‘missing’. You will also find the train number, itinerary and timings on the first page.’’

‘’Thank you, Major. May I sit?’’

‘’Of course!’’

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Taking place in a nearby chair, Dietrich then copied down the descriptions and quantities of the items marked as missing. Reviewing the list afterwards made him look with a smile at Stammer.

‘’This reads like a dream wish list for black marketeers, Herr Major.’’

‘’It indeed does, Hauptmann Mannerheim. In regular market prices, all of that is worth tens of thousands of Reichmarks. On the black market, you could easily multiply their value by ten.’’

‘’That is certainly some very serious incentives for thieves, Herr Major. Is another such train of luxury goods due to depart Paris for Germany in the near future?’’ Stammer settled down somewhat then, a worried look on his face.

‘’Yes! Feldmarschal Göring has ordered that another train be stocked with replacement goods. That train will depart from the Gare de Lyon on the night of August 22, at eleven. This time, a whole company of soldiers will guard it and make sure that nothing is stolen from it, while its cargo will be triple-checked at various points. Nobody will be able to steal from it, I guarantee you!’’

Dietrich nodded his head at those words: thieves would indeed need to be real magicians to make anything disappear from that train. Stammer had a question for him in turn.

‘’What exactly was stolen from that army train, Hauptmann?’’

‘’Eight medium machine guns with anti-aircraft tripod mounts, along with lots of 7.92mm linked belts of ammunition, plus a number of anti-tank and anti-personnel mines, Herr Major.’’

Stammer’s face showed concern at once.

‘’Medium machine guns with anti-aircraft mounts? Mein Gott! Someone could shoot at our planes as they land or take off from their airfields in France.’’

‘’That is a real possibility, Herr Major. We have no indication that the thieves who stole from your train and from that army train were the same, but that doesn’t diminish the gravity of both incidents.’’

‘’Himmel! I will have to warn our Chief of Staff about this. Could you keep me up to date if you learn anything more about those train robbers, Hauptmann Mannerheim?’’

‘’With pleasure, Herr Major! Thank you for the information.’’ Dietrich then left Stammer’s office, his mind working furiously about who could have pulled such daring thefts while not leaving a trace. Right now, the only fact he had was that a teenage girl was briefly seen near the weapons train. That was indeed little to go

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by for his investigation. He however quickly reconsidered that assumption: after all, how many people in Paris would be able to afford bottles of 1930 Dom Pérignon Brut Champagne these days? Maybe the way to go would be to keep an eye on the various known black marketeers around Paris, along with their usual customers. Feeling a bit better at that thought, Dietrich left the Ritz and started walking towards the Hotel Meurice.

22:05 (Paris Time)

Thursday, August 22, 1940

Cargo loading quays, Gare de Lyon, Paris

Mélanie, hiding under a cloak of invisibility, was standing behind one of the steel pillars supporting the roof projecting out of the long warehouse, next to one of the cargo loading quays of the Gare de Lyon. She smiled to herself on seeing the dozens of armed Luftwaffe sentries guarding the train stopped in front of the warehouse.

‘’Thanks for spreading some honey to attract bees like me, guys! It looks like this Göring fat pig was not happy about not getting his bottles of Champagne last time. Let’s make him blow a real big fuse this time!’’

Turning into ethereal form, she then floated towards the train, both invisible, silent and immaterial. Passing just beside one of the soldiers on guard and then entering the first rail car, she quickly read the inscriptions on the crates filling that car.

‘’Hum, bottles of 1935 Saint-Émilion red wine… Meeh! A good vintage but not a truly great vintage.’’

Mélanie however changed her mind nearly at once, as the mischievous side of her demonic nature surfaced.

‘’On the other hand, if those Germans wanted to dare me to steal from this train, then let’s answer that dare fully: I will steal from every rail car of this train, just to piss them off even more. Come to mama, bottles of Saint-Émilion!’’ Taking out of one pile three crates of bottles and stacking them on top of each other, she then grabbed the whole load with both hands and teleported with them to the cave under the cabaret. When she teleported back, she rematerialized behind the same steel pillar she had hidden behind first. That way, she would avoid bouncing off and appearing right in front of German soldiers if that train started to move while she was gone. It however was still immobile at the quay, so Mélanie floated inside the second rail car. She found it to be filled with boxes of tins of seafood.

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‘’Yes! Mother loves lobster and crab! Let’s not forget those canned shrimps and anchovies too.’’

This time, she made three consecutive return trips with boxes filling her arms before visiting the next car, which turned out to contains crates upon crates of cognac and other fine liquors and spirits.

‘’By the Abyss, that Göring pig must have raided the cellars of all the best hotels and restaurants in Paris!’’

That made her think about the real possibility that serving too much and too often of those fine wines and liquors to the German customers of the cabaret could well give her game away. She thus resolved to talk to Marie about being more parsimonious with her customers and to keep only a few bottles at a time in the regular cellar of the cabaret. The rest could stay hidden inside the cave and be brought up little by little as the need arose. Starting with the costly crates of cognac bottles, Mélanie made a dozen trips this time, all but emptying the car of its best content. This time, Göring was going to have a good reason to blow a gasket.

The fourth car proved to be the most interesting, containing crates of Champagne bottles. However, knowing that her time window was limited, Mélanie concentrated on stealing only the best of the best, taking away the reserves of Dom Pérignon to the last bottle. The train finally started to move as she was visiting the fifth car, a refrigerated model which contained boxes of game meat, pheasants and tins of truffles, the latter worth a fortune in restaurants. Grabbing the two crates of tins of truffles she had found in the car and topping them with a box full of frozen pheasants, she teleported to her cave and stowed away her newfound treasures, most satisfied with her night outing.

11:19 (Paris Time)

Saturday, August 24, 1940

Feldgendarmerie Section, Gross Paris headquarters Hotel Meurice, Rue de Rivoli, 1st Arrondissement Paris

Michel Koenig was listening to Dietrich Mannerheim, who was debriefing him on the little he had found to date, when his telephone rang, making him pick up the receiver.

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‘’Hauptmann Koenig speaking!’’

What he heard then was the voice of Major Fritz Stammer, half strangled with anger and indignation.

‘’THE TRAIN! SOMEONE LOOTED IT!’’

‘’Uh, what train, Herr Major?’’

‘’THE TRAIN I TOLD YOU ABOUT THAT HAD BEEN REQUISITIONED BY FELDMARSCHAL GÖRING AND WHICH DEPARTED PARIS LAST THURSDAY NIGHT. NEARLY A QUARTER OF ITS CONTENT WAS MISSING ON ARRIVAL IN GERMANY, INCLUDING ALL OF THE BEST BOTTLES. THE FELDMARSCHAL IS NEARLY APOPLECTIC!’’

‘’But, but, that train was heavily guarded all along, even when it was rolling. How could anybody steal from it without us seeing anyone, Herr Major?’’ Stammer then calmed down somewhat, possibly because he was by now nervously spent.

‘’I…I don’t know! It also seems impossible to me, but the fact that much of its cargo is missing can’t be denied. As a result, the Gestapo is now getting its nose into the case and I’m afraid that it won’t play nice during its own investigation.’’ Koenig felt very bad on hearing that last sentence: the Gestapo’s methods were anything but restrained and it had the power to arrest, detain, interrogate and torture even German officers.

‘’I see! Thank you for informing me, Herr Major.’’

Michel Koenig then put down his receiver and looked with discouragement at Dietrich Mannerheim.

‘’That second train full of luxury goods for Feldmarschal Göring was looted, like the first one. The Gestapo is now involved in the investigation. We can soon expect the shit to hit the fan big time around Paris.’’

Dietrich passed a hand on his face, thoroughly shocked.

‘’This is sorcery! We saw what the security around that train was in the station and over thirty soldiers traveled with the train to ensure that nothing would be stolen during the trip. How could this be even possible?’’

A thought then came to Michel, making him look somberly at Dietrich.

‘’Well, if someone could still steal from such a well-guarded train, think of what the ones who did this could steal from other trains carrying weapons, ammunition and explosives.’’

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‘’Mein Gott! The whole Kommandatur of Paris will probably be put on full alert because of this.’’ said Mannerheim, not knowing how prophetic his words were going to be.

 

07:44 (Paris Time)

Monday, September 2, 1940

Cabaret ‘Mille et Une Nuits’

34 Rue Saint-André-des-Arts, Quartier Latin

Mélanie, needing less rest than a normal Human, was already up and about after her night of dancing, stripping and sex and was in the kitchen with the cook when she heard someone starting to pound on the main entrance door of the cabaret while shouting in French.

‘’OPEN UP! OPEN UP! GERMAN STATE POLICE!’’

Sylvie Renaudin froze at once with fear on hearing that.

‘’My God! The Gestapo! They are coming to arrest us all!’’

‘’No, they are not!’’ replied Mélanie, a bit annoyed by Sylvie’s lack of fortitude. ‘’Go answer the door, but take your time doing it. In the meantime, I will go hide the incriminating stuff we have in the refrigerator and pantry.’’ When Sylvie stayed frozen, Mélanie raised her voice, nearly shouting at her.

‘’I SAID GO, SYLVIE! AND DON’T START PANICKING AND TELLING THEM THINGS. JUST LET THEM IN AND THEN GO WAKE UP MARIE. YOU GOT THAT?’’

‘’Er, yes!’’

As Sylvie finally started walking out of the kitchen, Mélanie urgently grabbed from the kitchen’s shelves and refrigerator a can full of coffee, a carton of fresh eggs, a brick of liver pâté, a brick of butter, a ham and a pile of steaks, all things which were near impossible to find under the rationing system, then teleported out of the kitchen and to her secret cave under the cabaret. She put the food items on top of a pile of crates of bullets, then jumped back to the kitchen a few seconds before two German soldiers in black uniforms and steel helmets entered it, their sub machine guns at the ready.

‘’HANDS UP! STAY WHERE YOU ARE!’’ shouted in German one of the soldiers, pointing his weapon at Mélanie. She obeyed at once and stayed still while eyeing the soldiers’ uniforms: they were not regular German Army soldiers. She did feel a bit of

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apprehension when she recognized the runes insignias on their collars: they were SS soldiers! More SS soldiers then streamed in, dispersing around the cabaret and taking control of all the exits. Mélanie could now hear shouts in German and French on the upper floor, as the occupants of the cabaret were being rudely awakened by the SS men. Hoping fervently that this was only a search and not an arrest operation, Mélanie was about to ask a question in German to one of the two soldiers in the Kitchen when a man in civilian clothes entered. He wore a trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat and his facial expression was as cold as ice. His eyes immediately targeted Mélanie, dressed in her night gown and slippers and he spoke to her in a decent French.

‘’Who are you?’’

She decided to answer in German, partly to make herself more sympathetic to the newcomer.

‘’My name is Mélanie Laurent. I am the daughter of the owner of this cabaret and I also dance and perform at night for her customers.’’

The man raised an eyebrow in interest as he detailed her young and incredibly beautiful face and her sexy body.

‘’You look pretty young to be a stripper, miss. How old are you?’’

‘’Sixteen! May I ask what is going on?’’

The man smiled at her question, but there was no warmth in that smile.

‘’A simple check, really. If we find everything in order, we will go and that will be the end of it. On the other hand, if we find things that shouldn’t be here…’’ The German didn’t have to finish his sentence, as Mélanie knew too well what he meant. The man then went to the refrigerator of the kitchen and opened it, looking at what was inside. He found it nearly empty, save for a pot of vegetable soup with small chunks of meat in it, plus a quart of milk, a small piece of cheese and two eggs. Checking next the shelves of the counter and the pantry, he came up with little except bread, a half empty jar of marmalade and some spices. Apparently satisfied, the man turned around to face Mélanie.

‘’Well, you don’t seem to be profiting from black marketing, miss. Where is your wine cellar? You do serve alcohol to your customers?’’

‘’Of course, mister! It is in the basement. Follow me!’’

Before he did so, the man ordered one of the soldiers to come with him. Mélanie then led him to the old stone staircase going down to the basement of the cabaret, mentally hoping that Marc Aubut, their sommelier, had followed her instructions about keeping

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only a minimal amount and selection of bottles in the cellar at any one time. Mind you, since Mélanie was the only one apart from her mother to know about the subterranean rotunda below the basement and was the one who brought up supplies and bottles every day as needed, the cellar should normally pass the Germans’ inspection. Stepping on the basement level and entering the room used as a wine cellar, Mélanie lit up the ceiling lamp and showed the long row of bottle racks, most of them empty, to the Gestapo man.

‘’As you can see, mister, our cellar has known more plentiful days in the past. Most of what we have left in it was bought before the rationing started in early August. Since our establishment serves strictly German customers, we do get preferential rationing coupons which helped us get some half-decent vintage bottles.’’

‘’We will see, miss.’’ said the Gestapo man, who then took out a list from a pocket of his trench coat and consulted it while slowly going down the lines of bottle racks. At one point, he stopped and extracted a bottle of Champagne from its rack and showed it to Mélanie, suspicion in his eyes.

‘’You have a bottle of 1938 Veuve Cliquot Champagne, a vintage no longer in legal circulation in France and also a brand of bottle that is part of a list of items stolen from a train heading for Germany. Would you care to tell me how it ended here, miss?’’

‘’That is quite easy actually, mister: we bought it before the signing of the armistice in June, along with similar bottles. The others have since been bought by our customers and this one is the last we have. Being rare and thus very expensive, few of our customers can afford to buy it when they come to see our girls.’’ The Gestapo man stared at her in silence for a moment, hoping to intimidate her, but finally put back the bottle in its rack.

‘’Very well, miss: I believe you…this time.’’

The secret policeman then resumed his inspection, but didn’t find other bottles of questionable origin. Once he was done with the cellar, Mélanie guided him around the other rooms of the basement, including the one on which the entrance to her secret cave opened. However, a large and heavy locker hid the hole in the wall giving access to the cave and the Gestapo man only made a cursory tour of the room full of old furniture and chests before declaring himself satisfied and going back up to ground level with his SS soldier and Mélanie. When they entered the show room, Marie Laurent came in a hurry to the German policeman, bowing her head to him.

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‘’I am Marie Laurent, owner and manager of this cabaret. May I ask why you came to search my establishment, mister?’’

‘’It was actually a random search, Madame Laurent.’’ said the Gestapo man in a polite, nearly apologetic tone. ‘’A large quantity of bottles of Champagne and fine wines was stolen recently from two trains headed for Germany and we are looking for them. Did anybody offer you recently some fine bottles for sale, under the table that is?’’

‘’No, mister!’’ replied emphatically Marie. ‘’However, if someone ever does, you can be assured that I will inform you about it right away. Uh, where could I contact you in that case, mister?’’

In response, the man took a calling card out of a pocket and quickly scribbled a few things on it before handing it to Marie, who took it as the Gestapo agent spoke.

‘’Here is my card, with my telephone number in Paris. Our offices are at 84, Avenue Foch, in the 16th Arrondissement. Thank you for your cooperation, Madame Laurent, and accept my excuses for having disturbed your establishment like this. Have a good day, madam!’’

The Gestapo man, his two colleagues and the SS soldiers then walked out of the cabaret, going back to their vehicles and driving off. Marie watched them go from a window of the vestibule, then turned around and blew air out.

‘’Damn, that was scary! Thank God that they didn’t find anything suspicious.’’ Mélanie gave her adoptive mother a sarcastic look at her last sentence.

‘’You don’t need to thank God for this, just me. Anyway, God never helps people: he is much better at throwing calamities at them. This is however a good lesson for us, Mother. We will need to be very cautious about how we store and use our hidden treasures, unless some jealous neighbors denounce us to the Germans. Another good thing about this visit is this: could I keep that card that Gestapo man gave you?’’

‘’The card?... Uh, why not? Why do you want it?’’

‘’Because I will now know where to strike if I decide to beat on those Gestapo bastards, Mother.’’ answered Mélanie, a mean smile appearing on her face.

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