amused peering out from behind the creases. "I
thought as much. I said to that bastard if I
remembered anything else, I'd phone Walter
what's-his-name except I called him Walt and let
him know."
"I don't understand."
"He's the ambassador here in Bonn. Can you
imagine with all the troubles they've got over here,
that diplomatic yo-yo had a luncheon for me, a
lousy television actor? WeD the suggestion that I
might call the ambassador made our preppie more
upset than anything else; he didn't expect it. He
said three times, as I recall that the ambassador
wasn't to be bothered with this problem. It wasn't
that important and he had enough on his mind, and
actually he wasn't even aware of it. And catch this,
Mr. Lawyer. He said you were an in-house, State
Department 'query,' as if a simpleminded actor
couldn't possibly understand bureaucratic jingoism.
I think that's when I said 'BuDshit.'"
' Thank you," said Converse, not knowing what
else to say, but knowing what he wanted to find out.
"That's also when I figured my instincts weren't
so bad." Dowling looked at his watch, then hard at
Converse, his eyes now penetrating. "I was a gyrene,
but I'm no fiag-waver, good buddy. However, I like
the flag. I wouldn't live under any other."
"Neither would 1."
"Then you make it plain. Are you working for it?"
"Yes, the only way I know how, and that's ad I can
ted
you."
"Are you looking into something here in Bonn?
Is that why you didn't want to be seen with me?
Why you stayed away from me in Hamburg and
even getting off the plane here?
"Yes."
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 157
"And that son of a bitch didn't want me to call
the ambassador."
' No, he didn't. He doesn't. He can't afford it.
And, please, I ask you not to."
"Are you Oh, Christ! Are you one of those
undercover people I read about? I walk into a guy
on a plane who can't be seen when he gets to an
airport."
"It's not that melodramatic. I m a lawyer and
simply following up on some alleged irregularities.
Please accept that And I appreciate what you did for
me. I'm kind of new at this
"You're cool, good buddy. Man, are you cool."
Dowling turned and walked to the door. He stopped
and looked back at Converse. "Maybe I'm crazy," he
said. "At my age it's allowed, but there's a streak in
you, young fella. Part go-ahead part
stay-where-you-are. I saw it when I talked about my
wife. Are you married?"
"I was."
"Who isn't? Was married, that is. Sorry."
"I'm not. We're not."
"Who is? Sorry, again. My instincts were right.
You're okay." Dowling reached for the knob.
"Cal?"
"Yes?"
"I have to know. It's terribly important. Who was
the man from the embassy? He must have identified
himself."
"He did, ' said the actor. "He pushed an ID in
front of my face when I opened the door, but I
didn't have my glasses on. But when he was leaving
I made it clear I wanted to know who the hell he
was."
"Who was he?"
"He said his name was Fowler. Avery Fowler."
"Wait!"
"What?"
"What did you say?" Converse reeled under the
impact
158 ROBERT LUDI.UM
of the name. He physically had to steady himself,
grabbing the nearest solid object, a bedpost, to keep
from buckling.
"What's the matter, Joe? What's wrong with you?"
"That name! Is this some kind of joke a bad
joke a bad line! Were you put on that plane? Did
I walk into you? Are you part of it, Mr. .4ctor?
You're damned good at what you do!
"You're either juiced or sick. What are you
talking about?"
' This room, your note! Everything! That name!
Is this whole goddamned night a setup?'
"It's morning, young man, and if you don't like
this room you can stay wherever you like as far as
I'm concerned."
"Wherever . . . 4" Joel tried to evade the
blinding flashes of light from the Quai du Mont
Blanc and clear the searing blockage in his throat.
"No . . . I came here," he said hoarsely. "There's no
way you could have known I'd do that. In Copen-
hagen, on the plane . . . I got the last ticket in first
class, the seat next to me had been sold, an aisle
seat."
"That's where I always sit. On the aisle."
"Oh, Jesus!"
"Now you're rambling.'' Dowling glanced at the
empty glass on the bedside table, then over at the
bureau top where there was a silver tray and a
bottle of Scotch whisky provided by an
accommodating desk clerk. "How much sauce have
you had?"
Converse shook his head. "I'm not drunk.... I'm
sorry. Christ, I'm sorry) You had nothing to do with
it. They're using you trying to use you to find me!
You saved my . . . my job . . . and I went after you.
Forgive me."
"And you don't look like someone who's that
worried about a job,' said the actor, his scowl more
one of concern than anger.
"It's not the employment, it's . . . pulling it off.
Joel silently took a deep breath to control himself,
postponing the moment when he would have to
confront the awesome implicabons of what he had
just heard. Avery Fowler! "I want to succeed in what
I'm doing; I want to win," he added limply, hoping
to conceal the slip he saw Dowling had spotted. "All
lawyers want to win."
'Sure. '
"I am sorry, Cal."
"Forget it," said the actor, his voice casual, his look
not
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 159
casual at all. "Where I'm at these days screeching's
an hourly occurrence only, they don't say anything.
I think you just did."
"No, I overreacted, that's all. I told you I was
new at this. Not the law, just this . . . not talking
directly, I guess says it."
"Does it?"
"Yes. Please believe that."
"All right, if you want me to." Dowling again
looked at his watch. "I've got to go, but there's
something else that might be helpful in saving
that" the actor paused convincingly "job of yours.
'
"What is it?" asked Converse tightly, trying not to
leap at the question.
"As this Fowler was leaving I had a couple of
thoughts. One was that I'd been pretty hard on a
fellow who was simply doing his job, and the other
was just plain selfish. I hadn't cooperated, and that
could come back and snap me in the ass. Of course
if you never showed up here, I'd get my note back
and it wouldn't matter. But if you did, and you wore
a black hat, my tail could be in a bucket
of boiling
lead."
"That should have been your first concern," said
Joel truthfully.
"Maybe it was, I don't know. At any rate, I told
him that in the course of our conversation I asked
you for drinks, to come out on location if you
wanted to. He seemed puzzled at the last part, but
he understood the first. I asked whether I should call
him at the embassy if you took me up on either
invitation, and he said no, I shouldn't do that."
"What9"
"In short words, he made it very plain that my
calling him would only louse up this 'in-house query.'
He told me to wait for his call. He'd phone me
around noon."
"But you're filming. You're on location."
"That's the beauty part, but the hell with it.
There are mobile telephone hookups; the studios
insist on them these days. It's another kind of
screeching called budgetary controls. We get our
calls."
"You're losing me."
"Then find me. When he calls me, I'll call you.
Should I tell him you reached me?"
Surprised, Converse stared at the aging actor, the
risk-taker. "You're way ahead of me, aren't you?"
"You're pretty obvious. So was he, when I put it
togeth
160 ROBERT LUDLUM
er which I just did. This Fowler wants to reach
you, but he wants to do it solo, away from those
people you don't want to meet. You see, when he
was at the door and we had our last words, I was
bothered by something. He couldn't sustain the
role any more than you did on the plane but I
couldn't be certain. He kind of fell apart on his exit,
and that you never do even if you've got to hold in
a sudden attack of diarrhea. . . . What do I tell him,
Joe?"
"set his telephone number, I guess.',
"Done. You get some sleep. You look like a
coked-up starlet who's just been told she's going to
play Medea."
"I'll try."
Dowling reached into his pocket and took out a
scrap of paper. "Here," he said approaching
Converse and handing it to him. "I wasn't sure I was
going to give this to you, but I damn well want you
to have it now. It's the mobile number where you
can reach me. Call me after you've talked to this
Fowler. I'm going to be a nervous wreck until I hear
from
you."
"I give you my word.... Cal, what did you mean
when you mentioned 'the beauty part' and
forgetting about it?"
The actor's head shifted back in perfect
precision, at just the right angle for anyone in the
audience. "The son of a bitch asked me what I did
for a living.... As they say in the Polo Lounge, Ciao,
baby."
Converse sat on the edge of the bed, his head
pounding, his body tense. Avery Fowler! Jesus!
Avery Preston Fowler Halliday! Press Fowler . . .
Press Halliday! The names bombarded him, piercing
his temples and bouncing off the walls of his mind,
screaming echoes everywhere. He could not control
the assault; he began to sway back and forth, his
arms supporting him, a strange rhythm emerging,
the beat accompanying the name names of the
man who had died in his arms in Geneva. A man he
had known as a boy, the adult a stranger who had
manipulated him into the world of George Marcus
Delavane and a spreading disease called Aquitaine.
This Fowler wants to reach you, but he wants to
do it solo, awayfrom those people you don 't want to
meet.... The judgment of a risk-taker.
Converse stopped rocking, his eyes on the
Leifhelm dossier on the floor. He had assumed the
worst because it was beyond his comprehension, but
there was an alternative, an out
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 161
side possibility, perhaps under the circumstances
even a probability. The geometries were there; he
could not trace them but they were there! The name
Avery Fowler meant nothing to anyone but him at
least not in Bonn, not as it pertained to a murder in
Geneva. Was Dowling right? Joel had asked the
actor to get the man's telephone number, but with-
out conviction. The image of a dark-red limousine
driving through the embassy's gates would not leave
him. That was the connection that had enveloped the
shock of Avery Fowler's name. The man using it was
from the embassy, and at least part of the embassy
was part of Aquitaine, therefore the impostor was
part of the trap. That was the logic; it was simple
arithmetic . . . but it was not geometry. Suppose
there was a break in the line, an insertion from
another plane that voided the arithmetic
progression? If there was, it was in the form of an
explanation he could not possibly perceive unless it
was given to him.
The shock was receding; he was finding his
equilibrium again. As he had done so many times in
courtrooms and boardrooms, he began to accept the
totally unexpected, knowing he could do trothing
about it until something else happened, something
over which he had no control. The most difficult
part of the process was forcing himself to function
until it did happen, whatever it was. Conjecture was
futile; all the probabilibes were beyond his
understanding.
He reached down for the LeifLelm dossier.
Erich Leifhelm's years with the Bundesgren-
zschutz were unique and require a word about the
organizahon itself. In the aftermath of all wars, a
subjugated national police force is required in an
occupied country for reasons ranging from the
simple language problem to the occupying power's
need to understand local customs and traditions.
There must be a buffer between the occupation
troops and a vanquished people so as to maintain
order. There is also a side issue rarely elaborated
upon or analyzed in the history books, but no less
important for that lack. Defeated armies can skill
possess talent, and unless that talent is utilized the
humiliation of defeat can ferment, at minimum
distilling itself into hostilities that are
counterproduchve to a stabilised political climate, or,
at maximum, turning into internal subver
162 ROBERT LUDLUM
sionthat can lead to violence and bloodshed at
the expense of the victors and whatever new
government that is being formed. To put it
bluntly, the Allied General Staff recognized that
it had on its hands another brilliant and
popular military man who would not suffer the
anonymity of early retirement or a corporate
boardroom. The Bundesgrenzschutz literally,
federal border police like all police
organisations, was and is a paramilitary force,
and as such the logical repository for men like
Erich Leifhelm They were the leaders; better to
use th
em than be abused by them. And as
always among leaders, there are those few who
surge forward, leading the pack. During these
years foremost among those few was Erich
Leifhelm.
His early work with the Grenzschutz was
that of a military consultant during the massive
German demobilisation, then afterward the
chief liaison between the police garrisons and
the Allied occupation forces. Following
demobilisation, his duties were mainly
concentrated in the trouble spots of Vienna and
Berlin where he was in constant touch with the
commanders of the American, British and
French sectors. His zealous anti-Soviet feelings
were rapidly made known by Leifhelm
throughout the command centers and duly
noted by the senior officers.. More and more he
was taken into their confidence until as it had
happened before with the Prussians he was
literally considered one of them.
It was in Berlin where Leifhelm first came
in contact with General Jacques-Louis
Bertholdier. A strong friendship developed, but
it was not an association either one cared to
parade because of the age-old animosities
between the German and French militaries. We
were able to trace only three former officers
from Bertholdier's command post who
remembered or would speak of seeing the
two men frequently at dinner together in
out-of-the-way restaurants and cafes, deep in
conversation, obviously comfortable with each
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