An Officer and a Spy

aside for the inquiry, Pellieux and the others are in exactly the same positions as when I left them, as if they have spent the night under dust sheets, and the general resumes where he left off as though there had been no interruption. ‘Tell us once again, if you would, the circumstances in which you came into possession of the petit bleu  . . .’
    This goes on for another hour or so, and then he says, without any change of tone, ‘Madame Monnier – how much of your work have you disclosed to her?’
    My throat tightens immediately. ‘Madame Monnier?’
    ‘Yes, the wife of Monsieur Philippe Monnier of the Foreign Ministry. What have you told her?’
    I say in a strained voice, ‘General – please – I insist – she has nothing to do with this.’
    ‘That is not for you to determine.’ He turns to the secretary. ‘Colonel Picquart’s documents, please.’ And while the secretary opens his dispatch box, Pellieux switches his attention back to me. ‘You will probably not be aware of the fact, Colonel, because you were at sea, but an official search was carried out of your apartment on Tuesday, following an allegation by Major Esterhazy that you were keeping official papers there.’
    For a moment I can only gape at him. ‘No, I most certainly was not aware of it, General. And if I had been I would have protested strongly. Who authorised this raid?’
    ‘I did, at the request of Colonel Henry. Major Esterhazy claims to have received information from a woman whose name he does not know but who swears that she is an acquaintance of yours. This woman, whom he has only seen heavily veiled, says that you have been keeping secret documents relating to his case at your private address.’
    It is such an absurd idea, Pauline and Esterhazy together, that I find myself emitting a gasp of laughter. But then the secretary places several bundles of letters in front of Pellieux and I recognise them as my private correspondence: old letters from my mother and my dead brother; correspondence from my family and friends; business letters and love letters; invitations and telegrams kept for their sentimental value. ‘This is an outrage!’
    ‘Come now, Colonel – why such sensitivity? I don’t believe we have taken any action against you that you haven’t taken against Major Esterhazy. Now,’ he says, picking up a collection of Pauline’s letters tied with a blue silk ribbon, ‘it’s apparent from the nature of her letters to you that you have an intimate relationship with Madame Monnier – one that I assume her husband is not aware of?’
    My face is burning now. ‘I absolutely refuse to answer that question.’
    ‘On what grounds?’
    ‘On the grounds that my relationship with Madame Monnier has no conceivable relevance to this inquiry.’
    ‘Surely it does if you disclosed secret information to her, or if she is the so-called “veiled lady” in contact with Major Esterhazy? And most certainly it does if you have left yourself open to blackmail as a result of it.’
    ‘But none of those things is true!’ Now I know what Louis was trying to warn me about in his letter the previous evening. ‘Tell me, General, am I at any point going to be asked about the central facts of this business?’
    ‘There is no need to be impertinent, Colonel.’
    ‘For example, about the fact that Esterhazy plainly wrote the bordereau – that even the government’s main expert concedes his handwriting is a perfect match?’
    ‘That is outside the scope of this inquiry.’
    ‘Or the use of falsified material in the dossier used to convict Dreyfus?’
    ‘The Dreyfus case is res judicata.’
    ‘Or the conspiracy within the General Staff to keep me in north Africa – or even to send me to my death – to prevent my exposing what had happened?’
    ‘That is outside the scope of this inquiry.’
    ‘Then if you will forgive me, General, I believe your inquiry to be a sham and that your conclusions were written before I even started to give my evidence, and I hereby withdraw my co-operation from this process.’
    And with that I stand, salute, turn on my heel and stride out of the room. I expect to hear Pellieux bellowing at me to stay where I am. But he says nothing, whether because he is too surprised to react or because he feels he has made his point and is happy to see the back of me I do not know and nor, at that moment, do I care. I retrieve my suitcase from the empty waiting room and descend the stairs. I pass a