“It’s not your duty to harass beautiful women, Scharführer Schwarz.” A new voice cut into the conversation, saving her from a reply.
Estelle turned to find a Luftwaffe officer standing behind her, holding two glasses of champagne. He wasn’t looking at Estelle. Instead, he was glaring at the sergeant.
“Colonel Meyer.” The sergeant took a half step back.
“I can’t imagine that you were doing anything other than complimenting Mademoiselle Allard on her captivating performance.” The colonel put the glasses of champagne on the polished mahogany surface of the bar. His movements were casual but the edge to his voice was anything but. “The Luftwaffe is, after all, quite selective about who we let in to this establishment. Do you understand, Scharführer Schwarz?”
Schwarz took another half step back, his jaw clenched. “Of course.”
“Excellent. You are dismissed.”
The sergeant gave Estelle one last hard look and spun, stalking away.
“Heavens, what an unpleasant man,” Estelle breathed. Her heart was only beginning to slow.
“Apologies, Mademoiselle. Please pay him no mind. The Gestapo can be a disagreeable lot, Scharführer Schwarz more so than others.” He snorted derisively. “Ambitious bastard, never pleased with anything.”
That information did not reassure Estelle at all. Instead, her unease intensified.
“If he made you feel uncomfortable in any way, I can have a further word with him—”
“Oh, no, that is not necessary,” Estelle hastened to assure him. To draw additional attention to herself from the Gestapo was the last thing she wanted. “Please do not trouble yourself. In fact, I was just getting ready to leave.”
“Leave? You can’t possibly.” He pushed one of the champagne glasses toward her. “You must sing for us again later this evening. None of us knew we had such a songbird in our midst. The Reichsmarschall was particularly taken with you the other night.”
“I’m flattered.” Estelle hoped she sounded sincere. “But I’m afraid I must depart. Curfew comes early.”
“Nonsense,” the smooth-talking Meyer scoffed, brushing at the immaculate sleeve of his uniform. “You are welcome to stay at the hotel. Spend the night as my guest, and I will see you to your home tomorrow morning.”
“That is generous, truly.” She really should have moved faster. Retreated far beyond the bar and the reach of these men and into the safety of the night. “Yet I must decline.”
“Pity. But of course, I will not insist.” He patted her hand reassuringly. “But you have only to ask if you change your mind.”
She looked up at the colonel beneath her lashes. He was probably in his forties, with a pleasant face and a ready smile. A perfectly ordinary-looking man in a different time and place, but anything but ordinary in the here and now.
She wrapped her fingers around her glass and raised it to her lips, pretending to take a sip. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the bartender in his white bar coat casually mixing a drink. She was reasonably convinced that he harboured anti-Nazi sentiments, but she couldn’t be sure. She was, however, quite sure that he was listening to their conversation, so she chose her words with care.
“There is, actually, a different matter that I wished to speak to you about,” she said in a low voice.
“Oh?” Meyer removed his spectacles and then polished the lenses.
Estelle set her drink back on the gleaming bar top and undid the necklace that hung at her throat. “The Reichsmarschall might have been taken with my songs, but I believe he was taken with these emeralds more,” she said, laying the necklace on the bar. In the light, the gems pulsed with an unearthly glow.
“He does covet such treasures,” Meyer agreed.
“At the time, he expressed his desire to possess them,” she continued, ignoring the shudder that rose at the memory of his sausagelike fingers at her throat. “I confess that I declined his offer. They were a gift from my parents.” Her words were ridiculous, really, because what Hermann Göring wanted, Hermann Göring took. It was only a matter of time before the emeralds disappeared into his burgeoning collection of gems pillaged from all over Paris. Estelle figured she might as well extract an advantage while she could.
She slid the necklace toward him. “I know how hard you work to keep operations here running smoothly and the Reichsmarschall appeased. I thought that perhaps you should offer these jewels to him. I suspect such a gesture would be well regarded.”
The colonel replaced his spectacles and regarded her curiously. “Why would you do that? Why not offer them to him yourself?”
Estelle shrugged, her fur wrap sliding off her shoulder. “I was hoping you might be able to do something for me in return.”
“Such as?”
“I cannot eat emeralds.” She leaned in and dropped her voice. “And I do not wish to spend my days queuing for rations that always seem to run out.”
“That’s why you should move into the hotel,” Meyer protested. “Join Arletty and Coco. Inga and Daisy. Their every need is met, as would yours be. You’d not want for anything. I would personally see to it.”
“It’s tempting,” Estelle lied. “But I find great comfort in my own home. A failing on my part, I suppose.”
“Not a failing. One must admire a woman who takes pride in her home. Perhaps you will share it with a husband and family of your own soon?”
“That is my fondest wish.” Estelle schooled her expression into one of wistfulness. She knew exactly what role the Reich expected their women to play.
Meyer nodded his approval. “I will instruct the kitchens that you may have whatever you need. A woman such as yourself should not concern herself over such trifling matters.”
As if Paris starving was a trifling matter, Estelle thought despairingly. There were not enough emeralds in the world to keep the city from starving but at least the gems on the bar in front of her would keep those who were already depending on her from perishing.
“I am much relieved,” she said, pressing her hand to her chest. “Thank you.”
“No, it is I who should thank you.” He picked up the necklace and examined it before putting it back down. “But I, in turn, have a request for you to make our arrangement final.”
“Oh?” Estelle tried to sound interested when all she wanted to do was escape the clouds of smoke and heavy scent of too many bodies and too much perfume.
“One more song.” He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to protest. “And I will escort you home myself. You do not need to worry about curfew.”
All hope of a quiet escape slipped away as she reminded herself that there was more at stake than her feelings. “Very well.”
Meyer clasped his hands together. “Wonderful. I cannot think of a better finish to such a successful day for the Luftwaffe and all of its fine people. Almost like a grand finale, as it were.”
“Oh?” Estelle gathered her wrap around her. “And what is it that I should be celebrating?”
Meyer glanced about. “I probably shouldn’t say anything but you’ll read about it in the papers in the next few days anyway, so I can’t see the harm.”