Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt

Home > Other > Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt > Page 85
Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt Page 85

by The Aquitaine Progression [lit]


  Suddenly, without any warning, Valerie's aunt

  rose quickly out of the chair and struck him across

  the face. "Such evasive tactics will not serve you

  here!" she screamed, striking him again, the ring on

  her finger breaking his skin. "We know you

  understand every word that's been spoken! Why do

  you Czechs and Poles always think you can fool us.

  You collaborated ! We have proof

  The old women began to shout, their lined,

  contorted faces filled with hate. Converse got to his

  feet; he understood. Hermione Geyner and everyone

  else in that room were mad or senile or both. They

  were living in a violent time that was forty years in

  the past.

  And then, as if on some demented cue, a door

  opened across the room and two men came out. One

  in a raincoat had his right hand in his pocket and

  was carrying some kind of package in his left. The

  second man held a topcoat over one arm, no doubt

  concealing a weapon. And then a third man

  appeared, and Joel closed his eyes, pressing them

  shut tight, the pain in his chest unbearable. The third

  man had a bandage across his forehead and one arm

  in a sling. Converse had caused those wounds; he

  had last seen the man in a freight car filled with

  frantic animals.

  The first man came up to him and held out the

  package, a thick manila envelope with no stamps on

  the cover. It was the brief he had sent to Nathan

  Simon in New York.

  "General Leifhelm sends you his regards, even his

  respects," said the man, pronouncing the word

  "general" with the hard German g

  32

  Peter Stone watched as the CIA-approved doctor

  put the third and final stitch into the corner of the

  Army officer's mouth as the captain sat straining in

  the chair.

  546 ROBERT LUDLUM

  "The bridge will have to be repaired," said the

  doctor. "I have a man in the laboratory who'd do it

  in a few hours and a dentist on Seventy-second

  Street, he'll do the rest. "I'll call you later when I've

  made the arrangements."

  "Son of a bitch!" roared the captain, as loud as

  he could with half his mouth Novocained. "He was

  a tank, a tucking black tank! He couldn't have been

  working for her, he was just a goddamned

  cabdriver! Why the hell?"

  "Maybe you triggered him," said Stone, walking

  away as he looked at several pages of notes. "It

  happens."

  "What happens?" yelled the officer.

  "Cut it out, Captain. You'll break the stitches."

  The doctor held up a hypodermic needle; it was a

  threat.

  "Okay, okay." The officer spoke in a softer voice.

  "What does 'trigger' mean in that esoteric language

  of yours?"

  "It's perfectly clear English." Stone turned to the

  doctor. "You know I'm not employed any longer, so

  you'd better give me a bill."

  "When you're in town a dinner will do. The lab

  and the dentist are different, though. I'd suggest

  cash. And get him out of uniform."

  "Will do."

  "What . . . ?" The captain stopped, seeing

  Stone's hand held unobtrusively in front of his

  chest, telling the officer to be quiet.

  The doctor put his instruments in the black bag

  and went to the door. "By the way, Stone," he said

  to the former CIA agent, "thanks for the Albanian.

  His wife is spending Moscow's rubles like mad for

  every ache I can find a name for."

  "The ache is her husband. He has an apartment

  in D.C. she doesn't know about and some very

  strange sex habits."

  "I'll never tell."

  The doctor left, and Stone turned back to the

  captain. "When you're with men like that, don't say

  any more than you have to, and that includes

  questions. They don't want to hear and they don't

  want to know."

  "Sorry. What did you mean I triggered that hulk?"

  "Come on. An attractive woman being chased

  down the street by a beribboned Army officer. How

  many memories black memories do you think are

  out there with less than fondness for your ilk."

  "ilk? I never thought of myself as an ilk, but I

  see what you mean.... You were on the phone when

  I got here, and

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 547

  then there were two other calls. What is it? Any line

  on the Converse woman?"

  "No." Stone again looked down at his notes,

  shuffling the pages. "We can assume she came back

  to reach someone someone she and her ex-husband

  trust."

  "He knows his way around Washington. Maybe

  someone on the Hill, or even in the administration,

  or State."

  "I don't think so. If he knew anyone like that and

  thought his story would get out before his head was

  shot off, he would have surfaced days ago.

  Remember, he's been tried, convicted, and

  condemned. Can you think of anyone in Washington

  who wouldn't play it play him strictly by the rules?

  He's contaminated. Too many 'authoritative sources'

  have confirmed it, even diagnosed the disease."

  "And by now he's learned what we foumd out

  months ago. You don't know where they are or who

  you're talking to."

  "Or whom they've hired," added Stone. "Or whom

  they've blackmailed into doing what they want

  without giving away any trade secrets." He sat down

  opposite the Army officer. "But a couple of other

  things have fallen into place. We're getting a pattern

  and a few additional names. If we could pull

  Converse out and combine what he's learned with

  what we've got it might just possibly be enough."

  "What?" The captain shot forward in the chair.

  "Take it easy. I said just possibly. I've been

  calling in some old debts, and if we could put it all

  together, there are one or two left I can trust."

  "That's why we called you in," said the officer

  quietly. "Because you know what to do, we don't....

  What have you got?"

  "To begin with, have you ever heard of an actor

  named Caleb Dowling actually, it's Calvin, but

  that's not important except for the computers."

  "I know who he is. He plays the father on a

  television show called Santa Fe. Don't shout it from

  the rooftops, but my wife and I watch it now and

  then. What about him?"

  Stone looked at his watch. "He'll be here in a few

  mix! uses."

  "No kidding? I'm impressed."

  "You may be more impressed after we've talked to

  him."

  'Jesus, fill me inl"

  "It's one of those odd breaks we all look for that

  seem to come out of left field but are perfectly

  logical. It's the timing

  548 ROBERT IUDLUM

  that's not logical.... Dowling was in Bonn filming a

  picture and struck up a friendship with Peregrine.

  American celebrity, et cetera. He also met Converse

  on a pla
ne and got him a hotel room when they

  were tough to find. Most significant, Dowling was

  the initial contact between Peregrine and Con-

  verse which didn't work out because Fitzpatrick

  stepped in.',

  "So?"

  "When Peregrine was killed, Dowling called the

  embassy a number of times trying to get an

  appointment with the acting ambassador, but he was

  put on hold. Finally he sent a note to Peregrine's

  secretary saying he had to see her, that it was

  important. The secretary met with him, and this

  Dowling dropped a bomb on her lap. Apparently he

  and Peregrine had an agreement that if Converse

  called the embassy and contact was to be made,

  Dowling would go along. He didn't think Peregrine

  would go back on his word. Secondly, Peregrine told

  Dowling that something was rotten in the embassy

  ranks some very odd behavior. One incident

  Dowling witnessed himself. He said there were too

  many things that didn't make sense from

  Converse's sane and lucid conversations to the fact

  that he, Dowling, hadn't been officially questioned,

  as if people were avoiding one of the last people to

  see Converse. The bottom line was that he didn't

  think Converse had anything to do with Peregrine's

  murder. The secretary damn near fainted but told

  him he would be contacted. She knew the Agency's

  station chief in Bonn and called him. So did I, two

  days ago, telling him I was brought in deep down by

  "He confirmed all of this?"

  "Yes. He called Dowling in, listened to him, and

  has begun digging himself. He's coming up with

  names, one of which we know, but there'll be

  others. I was on the phone with him when you got

  here. Dowling flew in yesterday, he's at the Pierre

  and will be here by eleven-thirty."

  "That's movement," said the captain, nodding.

  "Any

  "Two other things. You know how stymied we

  were when Judge Anstett caught it and how strong

  the case was made for a mob killing. Hell, we

  weren't even sure why Halliday used Anstett in the

  first place. Well, the computer boys at the Army

  data banks have come up with the answer. It goes

  back to October of 1944. Anstett was a legal officer

  in Brad

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 549

  fey's First Army, where Delavane held a battalion

  command. Delavane railroaded a sergeant who'd

  cracked through a court-martial. The charge was

  desertion under fire, and Colonel Delavane wanted

  an example both for his own troops and for the

  Germans, to let the first know they were being led by

  a ramrod, and the second that they were fighting

  one. The verdict was guilty, the sentence execution."

  "Oh, my God," exclaimed the Army officer.

  "Slovik all over again."

  "Exactly. Except that a lowly lieutenant named

  Anstett heard about it and came rolling in with all

  his legal barrels smoking. By using psychiatric

  evaluation reports he not only got the sergeant sent

  home for treatment but literally turned the

  proceedings around and put Delavane himself on

  trial. Using the same kind of psychological

  evaluations stress mainly he called into question

  Delavane's fitness for command. It damned near

  ruined an illustrious military career, and would have

  if it wasn't for the colonel's friends in the War

  Department. They buried the report so well it was

  under another Delavane's name and wasn't picked

  up until all the records were computerised in the

  sixties."

  'That's one hell of an explanation, Stone."

  "It's only part of it. It didn't explain Anstett's

  killing itself. And make no mistake, it was the Mafia

  down to the man with the gun. ' Stone paused and

  turned a page. "So there had to be a connection

  somewhere, somehow a link, probably going back

  years. The boys with the disks looked further, and I

  think we've got it. Guess who was Colonel

  Delavane's chief aide in the First Army. No, don't

  bother, you couldn't. He was a Captain Parelli,

  Mario Alberto Parelli. '

  "Good Christ! The senator?"

  "The five-term senator, thirty years in that august

  body. Up-from-the-bootstraps Mario, with a slight

  push from the G.I. Bill, some early benefactors and

  a few lucrative legal retainers."

  "Wow . . ." said the captain softly, without

  enthusiasm, as he leaned back in the chair. "That's

  heavy, isn't it?"

  "It's there. It fits. And I don't mind telling you

  that in '62 and '63, during the Let's-get-Fidel days,

  Parelli was a frequent visitor at the White House,

  courtesy of both the Kennedy boys."

  "Even in the Senate. He's one of the biggest

  cannons on the Hill."

  550 ROBERT LUDLUM

  "While you're staring, let me give you the last

  item. We've found Commander Fitzpatrick."

  "Whatfl"

  "At least we know where he is," completed

  Stone. "As to whether we can bring him out, or

  even want to try, that's another question."

  Valerie got in the cab at McCarran Airport in

  Las Vegas and gave the driver the address of a

  restaurant on Route 93 repeated twice by Sam

  Abbott over the phone. The driver, creasing his

  forehead, looked at her in his rearview mirror. Val

  was used to men scrutinizing her; she was neither

  flattered nor annoyed anymore. Frankly, she was

  just bored by the childishness of it all, by the

  fantasies of grown-up children abusing themselves

  with their eyes.

  "Are you sure, miss?" asked the driver.

  "I beg your pardon?'

  "That isn't a restaurant like I mean a

  restaurant. It's a diner, a pit stop for trucks."

  "It's where I wish to go,', said Val coolly.

  "Sure, okay, fine." The taxi pulled out into the

  departing traffic.

  The driver was right. A half-acre of asphalt

  surrounded the long, low, L-shaped diner; a dozen

  huge trucks dwarfed the cars, which were parked at

  respectful distances from the intimidating rigs. Val

  paid the driver and went inside; she looked around

  and walked past the cashier's counter toward the

  L-shaped section. Sam had told her he would be in

  one of the booths m that area.

  He was, at the rear of the second aisle. As

  Valerie approached she looked at the man she had

  not seen in nearly seven years. He had not changed

  much, the brown hair had a fringe of grey around

  the temples, but the strong, relaxed face was not

  very different perhaps the eyes were a little

  deeper, a few more lines at the sides and the

  cheekbones a touch more pronounced. It was a

  better face for a portrait now, she thought; the

  character beneath was emerging. Their eyes met,

  and the brigadier general got out of the booth, his

  clothes denying his rank and profession. He was

  dress
ed in an open sport shirt, tan summer slacks

  and dark loafers. He was somewhat shorter than

  Joel, but not by much. His grey eyes said she was a

  welcome sight.

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 551

  "Val. " Abbott held her briefly, obviously not

  wanting to call attention to them.

  "You look well, Sam," she said, sitting down

  across from him, putting the carry-on beside her.

  "You look merely outstanding, which is military

  for all those other adjectives." Abbott smiled. it's

  funny, but I come out here a lot because no one

  pays any attention to me, so I thought, hell, it's the

  perfect place. I should have remembered you walk

  through that arcade of gorillas and eggs get put in

  ears with coffee spoons."

  'Thanks. I could use some confidence."

  "I could probably use a strong alibi. If someone

  does recognize me, word will go back that the

  brigadier's pulling outside duty."

  "You're mamed, Sam?"

  "Five years ago. Late, but with all the fixings. A

  lovely bride and two beguiling daughters."

  I'm so happy for you. I hope I get a chance to

  meet her, meet them but not this trip. Definitely

  not this trip."

  Abbott paused, looking into her eyes, a touch of

  sadness in his. Thank you for understanding," he

  said.

  'There's nothing to understand, or rather, there's

  everything to understand. The fact that you're willing

  to meet me after all that's happened is more than we

 

‹ Prev