More pistol shots fired into the dunes, more frightened birds shot into the air and the muzzle of a shotgun lit up. But no birds were harmed and the officers began convulsing with laughter.
‘He dropped the gun!’ a youngster howled. ‘He’s so drunk he can’t even hold the gun!’
‘How dare you,’ the German with the gun roared. ‘I am your commanding officer. Do you want to spend next week painting decks with a toothbrush?’
To emphasise his point, the officer shot again.
Henderson and Marc buried their heads as the back door of the pill-box swung open less than three metres ahead. A fat, woolly chest staggered out. Its owner was barefoot and held up his trousers with one hand.
‘Will you shit-for-brains keep your noise down? It’s getting so you can’t grope a Frenchwoman in peace around here.’
A shout came back across the dunes. ‘Captain Gerhardt, I had no idea your mother was in town!’
‘You want me to come over there?’ Gerhardt bellowed, but he turned back towards the pill-box. His heart was set on sex rather than violence.
The shooting game had run out of steam and one of the officers shouted, ‘More drink!’ to cheers from colleagues, who followed him to the house.
Captain Gerhardt seemed pleased with himself as he turned back towards the girl in the pill-box. ‘Now, let’s sort you out, eh?’
Henderson had decided to sneak up and knock Gerhardt out before he locked himself back inside the pill-box. A German uniform would be a useful disguise, even one that was too big for him.
But before Henderson made his move, a wine bottle shattered over Gerhardt’s head. It had been swung by a petite French girl, who now stood in the doorway holding the neck of the shattered bottle. Unfortunately the blow had little effect on Gerhardt, who threw himself into a whale-like laugh.
‘You’ll get a good spanking for that,’ he growled happily.
As Gerhardt forced the girl back inside. Henderson landed a knockout blow with the edge of his pistol. The girl screamed as Gerhardt toppled sideways. Henderson turned back to Marc and spoke in English. ‘Get our luggage in and shut the door.’
The pill-box was lit with a single, tiny gas lantern. The floor was scattered with clothes and wine bottles. The terrified girl was a teenager, half dressed and shorter than Marc. She scooped up her dress before Henderson put a hand behind her neck and spun her body around to face the wall.
‘Do not look at me,’ Henderson warned, speaking in French now, but adding an over-the-top English accent. ‘If you can identify me I’ll have to kill you.’
Gerhardt was unconscious, but he was a big beast. Henderson didn’t want him getting up, so he reached into a small pocket hidden behind his trouser belt and removed a deadly cyanide pill.
Pinching the nose forced Gerhardt’s mouth open. Henderson caught a blast of foul breath as he crumbled the pill on to the German’s tongue and clamped his jaw shut.
After a moment the hairy body began a series of violent convulsions. As Henderson stepped away, he saw the girl move slightly and shoved her face back against the wall.
‘Do you really want to die young?’ he asked.
Marc threw the backpack through the doorway before pulling the metal door shut and sliding the bolt. He could barely see his hand in front of his face.
‘Not one word,’ Henderson told Marc, jamming two fingers down the dying German’s throat.
His gag reflex was still active and red-wine-coloured vomit shot up Henderson’s arm before spattering the floor. Henderson tried not to breathe as he rolled the big German on to his chest and carefully positioned his face in the vile-smelling pool. It was an unpleasant business, but Gerhardt now looked like a man who’d passed out drunk and choked on his own sick. It was unlikely that any doctor would investigate further.
‘Gather up the Captain’s things and check his documents,’ Henderson told Marc. ‘Take his jacket and nothing else. It can’t look like he’s been robbed.’
‘Is he dead?’ the girl asked, as Henderson stepped up behind her.
‘Very much so,’ Henderson said, keeping his tone friendly, but deliberately breathing down her bare back. She was more likely to be honest if she was intimidated.
The girl tipped her head back and sobbed.
‘I’m going to ask questions,’ Henderson said, piling on the English accent. ‘I’ll start with a simple one, your name?’