Death in the City of Light: The Serial Killer of Nazi-Occupied Paris by David King Page A
Authors: David King
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his business,” Georgette Petiot said, referring to her husband. She sat with her elbows on his desk, staring aimlessly ahead. In her right hand was a small handkerchief. Speakingin a low, barely audible voice, Petiot explained that she knew that her husband had purchased a property at 21 rue Le Sueur two or three years before (it was three years). Massu, settling into a chair near her, noted the beads of sweat on her forehead. He asked if she was warm and wanted to take off her coat. She did, revealing a tight red-and-white checkered sweater.
She had only been to rue Le Sueur one time, about two years before, Georgette Petiot said, but she had not gone inside. She had never liked the house. It was too large and expensive, costing nearly half a million francs. Moreover, it would mean that her husband would be home even less. Still, despite her misgivings, she had not protested at the purchase of the property because, as she put it, her husband attracted a large clientele at his medical practice and made a lot of money.
As for the renovations to the property, Georgette knew that Dr. Petiot was skilled enough to perform much of the interior work himself, such as the painting, the installations, and the decorations. She then bragged about his talent at sculpture, particularly working in wood, but did not provide any specific information about possible renovations to rue Le Sueur.
Massu asked about her husband’s bicycle and trailer. Georgette Petiot claimed not to remember exactly when he bought them, thoughshe believed that they had been acquired together. She knew that he used them when he went to the auction houses, where he often indulged his hobby of purchasing “old books and antiquities.” Above all, in response to Massu’s probing, Georgette defended her husband as a “very gentle man” who took care of his family. His patients adored him. And if they were poor, or unable to pay his medical fees, she added, Petiot would not take a sou.
There was a problem about eight years ago, Georgette acknowledged. Her husband had ended up in a mental institution because, she told Massu, of “some troubles he experienced following the accidental death of one of his clients.” Georgette was referring to the thirty-year-old womanRaymonde Hanss, who had lost consciousness after Dr. Petiot treated an abscess in one of her teeth. Hanss’s mother blamed the physician for her death, but an investigation was never made with any thoroughness.
W HEN Massu asked about the events of March 11, 1944, Georgette said that her husband had spent the morning making house calls. They had eaten lunch together at the apartment and then, about three or three thirty, he left again “without telling me where he was going.” Marcel refused to keep her updated on his activities, she said, and this was her one reproach with their marriage.
About six that evening, Petiot returned home and received a client who had been waiting for a consultation. One hour and a half later, about seven thirty p.m., as she and her husband dined together, they were interrupted by the telephone call from the police, informing them of the chimney fire. As Massu called for specifics about her and her husband’s response immediately afterward, he observed that his questions disturbed Georgette. She sank into the chair and, raising her hand to her eyes, began to cry. Massu later said that he thought she would crack at any moment.
“Pull yourself together. We do not want anything from you. We only want to know the truth. What did your husband say?”
“I heard the word ‘police.’ Marcel immediately grabbed his hat and left.”
“Did he not say where he was going?”
“No, he didn’t give me an explanation.”
“Did he often leave without saying where he was going?”
“Sometimes. I never questioned him.”
Georgette would only admit to following him down the stairs to see which direction he went, later adding that she had accompanied him around the
She had only been to rue Le Sueur one time, about two years before, Georgette Petiot said, but she had not gone inside. She had never liked the house. It was too large and expensive, costing nearly half a million francs. Moreover, it would mean that her husband would be home even less. Still, despite her misgivings, she had not protested at the purchase of the property because, as she put it, her husband attracted a large clientele at his medical practice and made a lot of money.
As for the renovations to the property, Georgette knew that Dr. Petiot was skilled enough to perform much of the interior work himself, such as the painting, the installations, and the decorations. She then bragged about his talent at sculpture, particularly working in wood, but did not provide any specific information about possible renovations to rue Le Sueur.
Massu asked about her husband’s bicycle and trailer. Georgette Petiot claimed not to remember exactly when he bought them, thoughshe believed that they had been acquired together. She knew that he used them when he went to the auction houses, where he often indulged his hobby of purchasing “old books and antiquities.” Above all, in response to Massu’s probing, Georgette defended her husband as a “very gentle man” who took care of his family. His patients adored him. And if they were poor, or unable to pay his medical fees, she added, Petiot would not take a sou.
There was a problem about eight years ago, Georgette acknowledged. Her husband had ended up in a mental institution because, she told Massu, of “some troubles he experienced following the accidental death of one of his clients.” Georgette was referring to the thirty-year-old womanRaymonde Hanss, who had lost consciousness after Dr. Petiot treated an abscess in one of her teeth. Hanss’s mother blamed the physician for her death, but an investigation was never made with any thoroughness.
W HEN Massu asked about the events of March 11, 1944, Georgette said that her husband had spent the morning making house calls. They had eaten lunch together at the apartment and then, about three or three thirty, he left again “without telling me where he was going.” Marcel refused to keep her updated on his activities, she said, and this was her one reproach with their marriage.
About six that evening, Petiot returned home and received a client who had been waiting for a consultation. One hour and a half later, about seven thirty p.m., as she and her husband dined together, they were interrupted by the telephone call from the police, informing them of the chimney fire. As Massu called for specifics about her and her husband’s response immediately afterward, he observed that his questions disturbed Georgette. She sank into the chair and, raising her hand to her eyes, began to cry. Massu later said that he thought she would crack at any moment.
“Pull yourself together. We do not want anything from you. We only want to know the truth. What did your husband say?”
“I heard the word ‘police.’ Marcel immediately grabbed his hat and left.”
“Did he not say where he was going?”
“No, he didn’t give me an explanation.”
“Did he often leave without saying where he was going?”
“Sometimes. I never questioned him.”
Georgette would only admit to following him down the stairs to see which direction he went, later adding that she had accompanied him around the
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