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Fifty Five Castle Street

by Micheline Vogel

302 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #02-0071; ISBN 1-55369-257-8; US$25.50, C$29.95, EUR21.00, £14.50

This novel combines the heartfelt suspense of fugitives caught in one man's deadly machinations with the historical drama of a sick Europe about to emerge from four years of madness. The last days of Nazi ccupation. War, deceit, sex, murder, love, laughter, tears and desperation. A riveting novel of suspense and character.

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about the book      about the author      excerpts      catalogue info

About the Book     Is The End Of The War In Sight? Maybe...But in Nazi occupied Europe, during that first week of September, 1944, nothing could be less certain.     The Allied armada, which had been scraping the heels of Hitler's army, is running out of supplies while the Germans are stiffening their defense.     News reports are erratic...     In Belgium, Montgomery's 21st army group, coming from the north, is zipping through what will be recorded in history as a mad surprise dash toward Brussels where five fugitives are trapped in a mansion on Castle Street.     In France, where war news is practically non existent, Parisians learn that the whispered rumors about escape lines are a reality. Judging by unidentified luggage left behind, 93 people went to a certain Doctor Petiot's "safe"house," never to be seen or heard of again. Online review; FIFTY FIVE CASTLE STREET... RATING **** From a reviewer, a fan of well written mysteries, April 4, 2003 WHAT A STORY! Knowing what we do know of the evils perpetrated during World War II, it is not surprising that someone like Ms. Vogel's Dr. Berval could exist. Her character was insired by an actual French butcher (Dr.Marcel Petiot) . Ms. Vogel fictionalizes the location, the protagonist and his victims while creating a compelling tale that keeps the story filled with fascinating characters and unexpected plot. FIFTY FIVE CASTLE STREET is truly an unexpected delight for a first novel. G.H.&B Port Ludlow, Or.

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About the Author     American of Breton parentage, Micheline Vogel is the author of a collection of stories.     After her formative years in Belgium, she lived n Paris and New York until she and her husband Joe, moved to Tucson, Arizona.     She is presently working on her second novel Shelburne and The House of Alphonse.

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Excerpts

FIFTY FIVE CASTLE STREET

    On the evening of September 2, 1944, in Nazi occupied Brussels, Armand Berval had gone to the Military Governor's palace where General von Steinach and his wife, Greta, were giving a farewell reception for friends and Belgian collaborators who had served the Third Reich.
    Berval, who feared the wrath of the Allies, had made certain arrangements with Greta. Unbeknown to her husband, the next day at dawn, clad in German uniform, he was to follow von Steinach's last convoy retreating to Germany.
    But this never happened. A few minutes before midnight the handsome doctor was seen on the terrace, talking in whispers to his hostess.
    From that time on, Armand Berval seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth.
    At five o'clock the next morning, after fifty one months of Nazi occupation, Field Marshal Montgomery's Twenty First Army group was zipping through what was to be recorded in history as a mad surprise dash toward the Belgian capital.
    While at Fifty Five Castle Street, three adults and two children trapped in Berval's mansion, were waiting...

FOREWORD

    Set mainly in the years 1942-1944 this novel combines the historical drama of a Europe in chaos with the life of people seeking escape from the iron fist of the Gestapo.
    There were many escape lines operating through Belgium and France in those days. Sponsored by M19 in London, they transported American, Canadian, British and free French military or military-related personnel.
    Civilians, who for political or racial reasons had to escape from occupied countries, had to make do with whatever alternative they could find or afford to pay. Many, with the help of independent "passeurs," succeeded. Others, unfortunately found themselves trapped by scheming men who preyed on their misery.
    When Marcel Petiot, one of the most infamous criminals of our "Great Century," was arrested during the liberation of Paris, the population realized with a shock that the whispered rumors of escape lines had not been just talk, but reality. Doctor Petiot was tried for the murder of one unknown male whose body was found in the basement of his Paris mansion.
    To the minute he lost his head to the Guillotine, Petiot refused to reveal the identities of his victims. Judging by the unidentified luggage left behind, at least 93 fugitives came to his "Safe House," never to be seen or heard of again. Who were those people? Who lured them to Petiot's mansion?
    The world will never know.
    This has been haunting my mind ever since I read, researched and learned all there is to know about the man.
When I started this novel with Marcel Petiot and his unknown victims on my mind, his ghost kept fading as if others desperately wanted to be heard. Hence Armand Berval and his victims came to life.
    Where there's smoke, there's fire, as the old adage says. No doubt there had been other so-called "Safe Houses " in occupied countries in those demented years.
    Rumors of escape lines and "Safe Houses" abounded in those days.
    The mansion, as fictitiously described in this novel, was one of them.

CHAPTER 1
BRUSSELS,1954

    In the fall of 1944, when Armand Berval disappeared and his crimes were discovered in Brussels, he didn't even make the front page. The Germans were gone, leaving the Belgian capital in a state of total pandemonium. It was a time when a sick Europe was reacting to the four-year shock of Hitler's madness. With all the military-related dying going on, civilian murders didn 't matter that much.
    Berval was just an actor - too small for the scenery. But almost ten years later, retired Commissaire Kerlin, a strong-willed persistent giant of a man, still hadn't given up the search for the missing doctor.
    Haunted by the bitter memory of his involvement in the Berval affair, Jerome Kerlin had finally decided to go on his own, seeking missing answers to a case that had never been solved.
    Back in Brussels, on his way home from a journey spanning from Belgium to France, to Germany and across a good part of Western Europe, as he settled in a taxi next to André Vandame, his former colleague, Jerome Kerlin braced himself for a flood of questions. Both men had been personally involved in "L 'Affaire Berval " and they had much to talk about...
    "What did you find out? Where is he?" asked Vandame as he squeezed himself in next to the massive frame of his friend.
    "Well, to begin with," Kerlin said after a teasing silence, "I think we might finally be able to put that dreadful part of our past behind us. I covered a lot of ground in the last weeks, prying into Berval's background, stirring up regrets and emotions."
    "Did you talk to his mother?" Vandame asked..
    "Yes I did. I talked to his mother and many others who had been involved one way or another with his incredible machinations. Believe me, I know all about Berval's wrong doings. God, he was rotten from the day he was born. Much of what I heard made me want to cry. But you know," he said with a glint of hidden knowledge in his eyes, "The last person I talked to had the final word of it all. You remember the young wife of the Military Governor?"
    "Berval's mistress! How can anyone forget her. She was beautiful," André recalled. "So you saw Greta von Steinach! What did she tell you? Does she know what happened to him? He was seen at the Governor's palace that last day. Remember?"
    "She's still a very beautiful woman," Kerlin said, obviously evading the question. "She 's a widow now. She lives in Munich. I like her." Kerlin 's eyes twinkled. "I loved the way she wrapped up the memory of her mad love affair with 'Le beau Berval.' How she went on and on about "How wunderbar! How elegant!' The most fascinating man she ever met. I nearly cracked up when she said...
    "But with all due respect for his poor mother, and strictly in a manner of speech, of course, he was also...Uh...How you say that...? A rotten sonofabitch! Ya? Well, would you believe that Schweinehund was using me to escape the wrath of the Allies!" Kerlin grinned at the memory. "It was so incongruous, after all the tragedy and drama we had been talking about." André's burst of laughter filled the back of the cab. "A rotten sonofabitch. A Schweinehund! A drop of comedy to check the tears. That's the way life is sometimes. And thank God for that. But does she know what happened to him?" he asked again.
    Kerlin's face darkened.
    "She might. I don't know."
    "What do you mean you don't know?" Vandame asked as the taxi stopped by his friend's door.
    "I really don 't," Kerlin said with a puzzled frown. "I was her guest in Munich for a week. She couldn't be nicer. She took me all over that beautiful Bavaria. I love Bavaria. What a beautiful piece of real estate! We went to..."
    "Jerome, I know Bavaria is beautiful. I've been there. But for heaven's sake," Vandame interrupted, "What did she talk about?"
    "We talked about everything from past to present. We reminisced a lot, joked and laughed about our youth, the crazy things we did before the war. But every time I asked her about the last party at the palace, her laughter stopped. She became a haunted woman, almost as if she was ridden with guilt."
    After a reflective silence, Kerlin went on. "The last day while she drove me to the train station, she was silent and looked preoccupied. I had the feeling she wanted to tell me something but didn't know how. And me, damn fool, I knew she was trying. I knew she wanted to talk and I didn't press her. I was tongue-tied. I just didn 't know how to ask. Besides, there just wasn't enough time, I guess. A noisy train station isn't a place for confidence," he said with a shrug. "Anyway," he continued, "After I boarded the train, I leaned out the window while she stood on the platform, looking at me with a worried, almost pleading expression on her face. We kept staring at each other." Kerlin shook his head and went on. "It was not until the train started to move that she blurted out that von Steinach had written me a letter the evening before he died. It was never mailed. She confessed she had often been tempted to tear it up, but she didn't. She said it was still in her bank safe. God, you have no idea how I wanted to get off that bloody train as I watched her running along the platform. She kept repeating that she was sorry. She promised to mail the letter that afternoon."
    "You think she meant it?" Vandame asked.
    "Oh yes, I am sure she mailed it. It must be in my letter box by now."
    "God, I wonder what we 'll find."
    "Yes, I wonder too. I 've been thinking about that since the train left the station. To tell you the truth, I am almost afraid to find out. And you know, I was so surprised when she told me, I didn't think of asking her if she read the letter."
    "I wonder if she did read it." Vandame said..
    "I don't know. Maybe she did. Maybe that's why she looked so disturbed. Anyway, whatever Von Steinach wrote, it will complete what I have. It's all in there, "Kerlin said, tapping his bulging briefcase with the flat of his hand. "War, true love, deceit, sex, murder, laughter, tears and desperation." Heaving himself out of the car, he said, "Pay the man Vandame, and let 's go in. After we read von Steinach's letter, we 'll have a smoke and a drink while I tell you the whole story. Believe me,it 's quite a tale!"
    "I 'll bet it is,"André said. "A tale about a fascinating sonofabitch"
Kerlin laughed.
    "A fascinating sonofabitch. Yes. That really sums him up."

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Catalogue Information

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