In March 1951, a young woman from a small French coastal town boarded a train in Lille bound for Paris. She was twenty-four years old, a medical student, and she had a plan. She was going to win back the man she had once treated carelessly, and she had convinced herself that her presence alone would be enough to undo the damage of their past. When she arrived, she walked up to him and explained her reasons for coming.

He was shocked. The relationship had ended two years earlier, and he had moved on. He told her he was engaged, that he was happy, and that she should return to Lille. She refused to believe him and returned home, but only to regroup.

On Saturday, March 17, she went back to Paris with a small revolver she had purchased. She waited in a cafe across from the Comron metro station, watching him from the window as he arrived. When he thought she had gone, he returned to his apartment alone. She followed him up the stairs, and he let her in.

Moments later, the other residents of the building heard three shots. They found the young man dead and the woman in the kitchen, unconscious, with a gas pipe in her mouth. The man was twenty-seven-year-old Felix Bailly, a brilliant medical student. The woman was Pauline Dubuisson, and her arrest would set off one of the most sensational murder trials in postwar France.

Pauline was born on March 11, 1927, in Malo-les-Bains, a seaside town near Dunkirk. She was the youngest child of Andre Dubuisson and Helene Hutter, with four older brothers, the closest in age still ten years her senior. Her father was a strict disciplinarian, a decorated veteran of the First World War who held the rank of colonel in the French military reserve. Her mother was quiet and subservient, and after the death of Pauline’s brother Vincent in 1937, she sank into a depression that left little room for her youngest daughter.

From that point on, Andre Dubuisson was the dominant influence in Pauline’s life. He was severe and rarely showed affection, but he insisted that his children receive the best education available. Pauline proved to be an exceptionally gifted student, which pleased her father greatly, though he never told her so. When France declared war on Germany in September 1939, Pauline was twelve.

By May 1940, British and French troops were trapped in Dunkirk as the German army advanced, and the evacuation known as Operation Dynamo began on the evening of May 26 under relentless Luftwaffe bombing. The evacuation ended on June 4, and German troops took control of the town. Paris fell on June 14. Pauline’s father had his business bombed, but he was determined to carry on.

He ordered Pauline to learn German, which she did quickly and with considerable skill. He then used her as an interpreter in his dealings with German army officers, and by her mid-teens, Pauline was accompanying him to negotiations. She presented herself as an elegant, confident young woman, older than her actual age, and the German soldiers noticed her. Residents of the small town saw her walking with a young German sailor and being friendly with other members of the occupying force.

It was not the behavior expected from the daughter of Andre Dubuisson. In 1941 she was expelled from school for her conduct, and her father arranged for her to be educated at home, where she continued to excel. By 1944, the Allies were closing in on Dunkirk, and heavy fighting caused many casualties among soldiers and civilians alike. Pauline, now seventeen, obtained work in the German field hospital under the command of Colonel Werner Dominic, the head doctor.

Although he was a gentleman in his fifties, the two soon began a relationship. When the war in Europe ended in May 1945, those seen as collaborators were publicly humiliated. Pauline had her head shaved and was condemned to death by the people’s court. Her father still had influence and managed to secure her release, but the ordeal left her traumatized.

She attempted to take her own life and failed. Her father, realizing she could not remain in the town, sent her to Lyon, where she was unknown. She finished her education there, behaved better, and decided to study medicine. At the end of 1946, Pauline, now twenty, moved to Lille, a city only fifty miles from Dunkirk, and enrolled in the faculty of medicine at the university.

The faculty was considered one of the best in the country, and Pauline believed the experience she had gained working in the hospital before Dunkirk was liberated would serve her well. Soon after arriving, she met Felix Bailly. He was twenty-five, handsome, shy, and from a good family. He had no knowledge of her past, of her wartime relationships with German soldiers, or of the affair with the doctor old enough to be her father.

To him, she was beautiful, intelligent, and funny. He fell deeply in love, and it was his first serious relationship. He poured out his heart to her, but Pauline did not consider the relationship as seriously as he did. She went out with other men and regarded her studies as far more important than being tied to anyone.

When Felix proposed marriage, she declined. He proposed again, and she declined again. In 1949, tired of being treated poorly, Felix ended the relationship and went to Paris to finish his studies. Pauline stayed in Lille, worked hard, and began a casual relationship with another medical student.

As the months passed, she began to think about Felix. She realized she had treated him badly and started to wonder if perhaps he was the man she could marry and build a future with. She concluded that she was in love with him. But Felix had moved on, and had become engaged to Monique Lombard, a literature student described as pretty and good-natured.

On March 6, 1951, Pauline traveled to Paris to speak with him, certain that she could win him back. On the journey, she felt no fear. She had lived through the battles at Dunkirk, had seen terrible injuries in the hospital, had had her head shaved, and had been sentenced to death. Facing Felix was nothing compared to that.

She believed that if she showed him affection and told him she understood he was the man she wanted to marry, he would end his engagement and come back to her. He did not. He told her he was happy and that she should return to Lille. Pauline refused to accept defeat.

She purchased a small revolver and returned to Paris. After following Felix to his apartment on the Rue de la Cuaniviere, she knocked, and he let her in. Three shots were heard. Residents, familiar with gunfire from the war, quickly traced the sound to Felix’s apartment.

Alerted by the smell of gas, they broke in and found him dead. Pauline was saved and taken to hospital, where she told police that the death was an accident. She was formally arrested and charged with murder. When her father learned of his daughter’s arrest, he felt humiliated and committed suicide.

The press seized on the story. They described a jealous woman who had killed a brilliant young medical student because he had rejected her and become engaged to someone else. They painted her as guilty and did not examine the circumstances of her upbringing, the strict and emotionless father, the depressed mother, the war, and the public humiliation. As the trial date approached, Pauline attempted to take her own life again and failed.

The trial began in October 1953 and was a sensational affair. The press reported daily, describing Pauline as emotionless and showing no remorse. She described in court how she had shot Felix three times and had then tried to shoot herself, but the gun jammed, so she tried to end her life with the gas pipe. She told the court she was prevented from doing so by the other residents.

She claimed the shooting was an accident, a crime of passion, and that she had planned to take her own life if she could not win him back. The prosecution painted a different picture: a cold, calculating woman who had spent the war years seducing German soldiers to gain favors for her family, who had treated Felix cruelly, and who had purchased the gun with the sole intention of killing him. The people of Paris, still haunted by the German occupation of their city from 1940 to 1944, had little sympathy for a woman who had willingly befriended the occupiers. Pauline was found guilty of murder and sentenced to life in prison at La Petite Roquette.

Some later questioned whether the sentence was too severe, pointing to her harsh upbringing, her lack of affection, and the terrible circumstances she had endured. She was a model prisoner and was released on March 21, 1960, after nine years, for good behavior. She continued her medical studies and went to live in Morocco, which had ceased to be a French protectorate in 1956 but still had strong ties to France. She worked not as a doctor but as a nurse and asked to be addressed by her middle name, Andre.

Her life in anonymity seemed to be good. She made friends and became engaged to a French engineer who worked in the oil industry. But a film titled “La Verite” was released, and the press again discussed the similarities between Pauline and the character in the movie. Pauline realized she had to tell her fiance about her past.

When she did, he ended the engagement. Pauline Dubuisson died by her own hand on September 22, 1963, at the age of thirty-six.