Death in the City of Light: The Serial Killer of Nazi-Occupied Paris by David King Read Free Book Online

woman’s hat, in brown velvet with a peacock feather, made by Suzanne Talbot, at 14 rue Royale in Paris. A woman’s nightgown with the initial “T” was also discovered in Dr. Petiot’s consulting room, along with a man’s gray dress shirt with red stripes and red embroidered initials “K.K.,” which someone had tried to remove. Two other items bearing the same initials were also found: a white shirt with dark blue stripes and a pair of undershorts.
    It was another find, however, that underlined the sheer extent of the human tragedy. Concealed in a cupboard in Petiot’s basement were sometwenty-two toothbrushes, twenty-two bottles of perfume, twenty-two combs and pocket combs, sixteen cases of lipstick, fifteen boxes of face powder, and thirty-six tubes of makeup, mascara, and other beauty products. There were also ten scalpels, nine fingernail files, eight hand mirrors, eight ice bags, seven pairs of eyeglasses, six powder puffs, five cigarette holders, five gas masks, four pairs of tweezers, two umbrellas, a walking cane, a penknife, a pillowcase, a lighter, and a woman’s bathing suit. Clearly there were many women among the victims, and the killer appeared to be hoarding their personal belongings. Had he also been sadistically inflicting pain or sexually abusing them before chopping them into pieces and dumping the remains into a lime pit?
    The question became more charged when police found somethingelse at rue Le Sueur: twospecimens of human genitals preserved in jars of Formol.
    A T some point that morning—the time is disputed—a black Citroën pulled up to 21 rue Le Sueur with four German officers, obviously of high rank. They entered the building and then quickly returned to the car. By the early afternoon, the time also unclear, a telegram from the High Command of the German Military Occupation reached Massu’s offices on the Quai des Orfèvres. It read in full: “Order from German Authorities. Arrest Petiot. Dangerous Madman.”
    As Commissaire Massu prepared his arrest warrant, an officer telephoned police headquarters with something he’d uncovered in Petiot’s home region of Yonne. In 1926, just one year before he married Georgette, Petiot’s lover, Louisette Delaveau, had disappeared under mysterious circumstances.
    Louisette Delaveau, or Louise as he called her, had worked as a housekeeper with one of Petiot’s patients. She and the doctor had met at a dinner in 1924, when Delaveau,then a twenty-four-year-old brunette with dark eyes, served the meal. Petiot was obviously attracted. His friend René Nézondet said that he had never seen him so carefree.
    Petiot had used his contacts around town to find out more about this woman. He learned that she liked to shop on rue Carnot, attend mass at Notre Dame, and occasionally relax at Frascot’s bistro. The proprietor of that establishment, Léon Fiscot, or “Old Man Frascot,” also happened to be one of Petiot’s patients. Surprised and apparently enjoying the opportunity to play matchmaker, Frascot agreed to serve as a go-between. Petiot wrote her a letter and asked his friend to deliver it. Louise, if she was interested, should telephone him at his medical practice or show up at his house on rue Carnot.
    When she called the next day, they arranged a meeting for the evening at Frascot’s bistro. The date went well, ending with a romantic walk back to Petiot’s house. They would continue to sneak away for arranged and impromptu dalliances, until not long afterward, Louisettemoved in with the doctor. For the sake of appearances, she became his cook and maid.
    The difficulties of living with Petiot—obsessive, compulsive, and already demonstrating a passion for purchasing “bargains” at auctions—soon took their toll. Other sources of tension surfaced, not least of which was that Petiot had begun an affair with another patient. Delaveau may have been pregnant, too, as she had confided to one of her friends, adding that Petiot would take