Part Three: The Growing Conflict — Chapter 2 - The Barman of the Ritz

“Monsieur?”

“Yes, Luciano.”

“There’s eight bottles of Cointreau, three Campari, four Glenmorangie, and one Dubonnet.”

Stocktaking. Frank’s young apprentice has spent the day down in the cellar making an inventory.

“Got that.”

“And we’ve got two bottles of Jack Daniel’s, one of Jim Beam, and two of Johnnie Walker. Oh, and a case of Cinzano.”

“To be honest, I expected worse. We’re pretty well stocked. Anything else?”

“Two cases of Bacardi, one of White Horse, and two of Gordon’s. One case each of Smirnoff, Hennessy, and Martini.”

The boy looks down at his moleskine notebook.

“Two cases of Chivas, one of Rémy Martin. But we’ve only got two bottles of Marie Brizard left, and only one of Dewar’s.”

“Good, good. I put the order in on Monday morning.”

The cellar book has not even been put back in the drawer when they hear a cheery voice behind them.

“Good evening, gentlemen!”

Frank does not turn round. There is only one customer who cannot seem to get it into his head that the bar does not open until six o’clock.

“I’m sorry, Monsieur Bedaux, we’re not quite ready yet.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” says Bedaux as he takes a seat at the bar. “I didn’t notice the time. Have you heard the good news? The big cleanup has started!”

Frank does not want to engage with Bedaux and busies himself checking the garnishes. It is no use.

“This afternoon, the Germans arrested at least three thousand Jews in the city. They’re finally getting rid of the kikes!”

Luciano drops the crystal goblet he was putting on a shelf.

“Sorry, monsieur.”

“Don’t worry, lad, it’s only a glass,” Frank tells him. “Go fetch the broom.”

Frank’s heart is thundering, but unlike Luciano, he has learned the barman’s cardinal rule: always stay calm, cool, composed.

“Tell me about it,” Frank says quickly, with only the slightest quaver in his voice.

“A huge roundup. Lightning raids all over Paris. Went like clockwork. For tonight, they’ve commandeered the Japy Gymnasium and locked them all up there, first thing tomorrow they’ll be sent off to the internment camp in Pithiviers.”

“Is that so,” Frank responds, his voice measured.

“I say good riddance! They’re foreign invaders who are polluting this country! Most of them Poles. Though I think there were some Czechs and Austrians too. They’re going to be forced to rebuild the roads destroyed during the bombing raids. Appropriate, don’t you think? I mean, they were cheering when France went to war two years ago to save the German Jews, so now they’ll get the chance to repair the damage. As for the Jews who claim they’re French, they had better watch out. Because before long they’ll be joining them, mark my words.”

Frank feels every hair on his arms stand on end. Charles Bedaux tilts his head, his eyes bulging. He is overjoyed.

“Now, what do you say? Surely that deserves a little drink?”

Next to Frank, Luciano is pale and wild-eyed.

Quick, create a diversion.

“Of course, we should toast! Champagne, Monsieur Bedaux?”

“I wouldn’t say no…”

Bedaux is mercifully silent while Frank fetches a chilled bottle and expertly pops the cork. He flourishes his hands more than he usually would, hoping to distract Bedaux from the panic on his assistant’s face. He places two neat glasses on the bar and lifts his own.

“To your health, Monsieur Bedaux.”

“To purification, Frank!”

From the slums of Montmartre to the Ritz, the bars of Paris are filled with men like Charles Bedaux who firmly believe the barman always agrees with them.

Frank sips his drink, hoping in vain to drown his rising fear with the burn of liquor.

“And how is business going, monsieur?”

“Wonderfully well, my friend, thank you. The Franco-German alliance has never been so profitable. Over the past six months, I have been organizing business lunches so that German industrialists can meet all the French bigwigs. All in the service of the State, naturally. They come to me because I’m a key player in the New Europe. A benevolent patron of economic collaboration, if you like. And I haven’t even mentioned the great man who lives here at the hotel. You do realize that you’re talking to a personal friend of Herr Göring, Frank!”

His voice drops to a whisper.

“A curious man, Göring, don’t you find? Sometimes, while we are talking, he plays with his collections of precious stones like a little boy with a collection of marbles. He picks out a few, rolls them around in his hand… The day before yesterday, he received me in his apartments while he was taking his bath. The bathtub is enormous! I think he has taken a shine to me. He has even invited me to visit Carinhall, his hunting lodge north of Berlin. I can’t wait to see it!”

To think that this cretin is expecting to get a job as a minister in the Vichy government.

The news almost makes Frank feel protective towards Monsieur Süss. Rumors that he is of Jewish descent continue to circulate at the Ritz. But Frank’s main worry tonight is Luciano. When he finds the boy in the cellar, he is still very shaken.

“I need to get out of Paris,” Luciano babbles, clearly upset. “I just know they’re bound to find out that I’m a Jew! A Jew!”

Frank lashes out with a hard slap and Luciano stumbles back, shocked. His eyes fill with tears. Frank is furious.

“Don’t ever say that again! Is that understood?”

“Yes, monsieur,” Luciano mutters, his head bowed.

“Here at the Ritz you’re perfectly safe, but only so long as you don’t betray yourself. You need to think about how you present yourself to other people. Remember: the bar is a theater, where everyone wears a mask. Make sure you’re wearing the right mask and don’t get sloppy.”

Six o’clock strikes.

Frank lets out a shaky breath. He lays a fatherly hand on the young man’s shoulders.

“Now, come on, don’t be angry with me, kid.” He squeezes Luciano’s shoulders. “You go and stand by the main door and greet everyone with a big smile. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Frank remains alone in the reserve.

Everything’s going to be fine…

Frank cannot tell how immediate the danger is, though he is aware that the sky has suddenly grown dark. Over him and Luciano. Over Blanche. Over the whole city.