"There are the hills above the Moldau, our great Vltava with its beautiful
bridges, and the Wencelas when the snow falls . . . the Sffibrn6 Lake in
summer. And the valleys of
THE PARSIFAL MOSAIC463
the Wh and the Nitra, sailing with the currents toward the mountains."
They touched, the studenes hand on the teacher's arm. Matthias trembled,
breathing deeply, his own hand rising haltingly from his lap and covering
Havelocies.
'-fou told me I didn't understand, that I could never understand. ies not
so, my teacher ... my father . . . I can finderstand. Above all, I must
understand. There should be nothing between us ... ever. I owe everything
to you."
The mist in Matthias's eyes began to clear, the focus returning, and in
that focus there was something suddenly wild-something mad.
"No, please, Anton," said Michael quickly. "Tell me what It is. Help me,
held me to understand."
The hollow whisper began as it had in the darkness of the garden before.
Only now there was blinding sunlight and the language was different, the
words different.
"The most dreadful agreements on earth are the ultimate 801tition. That is
what you could never understand. . . . But you saw them all ... all coming
and going, the negotiators of the worldl Coming to mel Pleading with mel
The world knew I could do it and it came to mel" Matthias stopped, and then
as suddenly as the night before, the deep whisper was replaced by a scream
that seemed to block out the sunlight, a nightmare in the middle of the
afternoon. "Get away from nwl You will betray mel You will betray us all."
"How can R"
"Because you knowl"
"I don't knowl"
"Betrayed Betrayer of your countrymenl Your fatherl Betrayer of the worldl"
"Then why not kill vwl" roared Michael, knowing there was nothing left,
nowhere else to go with Anton Matthias. "Why didn't you have me kffled?'
"Havelock, cut it outl" shouted the young doctor from the doorway.
"Not nowl" yelled Michael in English.
"Yes, goddamn itl"
"Id slygimr screamed Havelock into Matthias's face, returning to Czech.
"You could have ldlled me but you didn'tl Why not? 1'm nothing compared to
the world, to your 8olutions for the worldl What stopped you?"
464 RoBLPnT Lumum
"Tbaes it, misterl"
"Let me alonel He's got to tell mel'
"Tell you what?"
OTed', star# pane?" Michael gripped the arms of Mattbia!?s chair, locking
him into it. "What sto"ed you?"
The hollow whisper returned, the wild eyes now clear of uncertainty. '-You
left the conference and we did not see you, we could not find you. We had
to know what you had done, whom you had told."
Madiwss.
Ybere finished here, Havelockl" said the psychiatrist, gripping Michaers
arm and pulling him away from the chair.
What were you two talking about? I know ifs Czech, but thaes aU I know. What
did he tell you? I want it verbatiml"
Havelock tried to shake the numbness from his mind, the utter sense of
futility. He looked at the doctor, remembering his use of the word; he
would not corrupt it as the young man had. "It wouldn't do you any good. He
was back in his childhood; it was meaningless rambling ... an angry,
frightened child. I thought he was going to tell me something. He didn!t."
The doctor nodded, his eyes those of a learned, older man. "He does that a
lot," said the psychiatrist, voice and face relaxing. "It's a degenerative
syndrome in old people born in another country, with a different language.
It doesn't make much difference whether they're sane or insane; they go
back. And why not? Theypre entitled to the comfort. . . . Sorry. Nice try.
Come on, I have to get you out of here. There's a chopper waiting for you
at the pad."
flanks.- Michael backed away on the slate path, and looked, he knew, for
the last time at Anton Matthias ... pfitel, mentor, father. The once great
man was cowering again, seeking sanctuary in the shadows of the palm tree.
Madness. Or was it?
Was it pos8ible? Did he--Mikhafl Havli6ek-know the answer? Did he ktww
Parsital?
28
It was called Sterile House Five-Sterile Five for short-and was ten miles
south of Alexandria in the Fairfax countryside. Once the estate of a horse
breeder, it had been purchased by an elderly, apparently wealthy, retired
couple who were in fact buyers of record for the United States government.
They were appropriate "owners" because they had spent their adult lives in
the foreign service; they had been attached to various embassies and given
various titles, but in reality they were two of the most proficient
cryptanalysts in U.S. intelligence. Their cover was simple; he had been an
investment banker living in Europe for several decades. It was eminently
acceptable to the distant, affluent neighbors and accounted for the frequent
sight of limousines tuming off the country road into the half-mile drive
that led to the house. Once a visitor arrived, the "owners" were rarely
visible-unless visibility was prearranged-for their quarters were in the
north wing, a separate section of the house, with a separate entrance and
independent facilities.
Sterile Five was another form of halfway house, serving clients who had far
more to offer the United States government than the castaway inmates of
Mason Falls, Pennsylvania. Over the years it had seen a procession of
high-level defectors pass through its doors for periods of interrogation
and debriefing. Scientists, diplomats, espionage agents, mili-
465
466 ROBE]RT LunLum
tary men-all had been residents at one time or another. Sterile Five was
reserved for those people Washington felt were vital to the immediate
interests of the country at given moments of crisis. Havelock and jenna
Karas arrived in an unmarked government vehicle at twenty minutes past four.
Undersecretary of State Emory Bradford was waiting for them.
The recriminations were brief, there was no point in going over past
errors. Bradford had spoken with the President and understood that there
would be "two new chairs at the table." At Sterile Five, however, they sat
in the "ownex"s study," a small room outfitted for a country squire: a
couch and thick armchairs; leather, brass and expensive wood in harmony;
mementos signifying little of substance on the walls. There was a heavy
pine table behind the single couch, and on it was a silver tray with
glasses, ice and bottles. Havelock made himself and jenna drinks; Bradford
declined.
"What have you told Miss Karas?" asked the undersecretary.
. Everything I learned at Poole's Island."
-lies difficult to know what to say~what to think" said jenna. "I suppose
rin awestruck and terrified at the same time."
"It's a good combination," agreed Bradford.
"What I want from you," Havelock said to Bradford as he went around the
couch with the drinks and sat down beside jenna, 'is everything you have,
the names of everyone involved-no matter how remotely-from the beginning.<
br />
I don7t care how long it takes; we can be here all night. As you go along
III ask questions, make notes, and when you7re finished 11 give you a list
of what I need."
It took less than four minutes for Michael's first question: "MacKen2ie?
CIA? Black operations. One of the best out of Langley."
"I was told the best," Bradford said.
"He set up Costa Brava, then?"
*rYes."
"He was the second sighting, the one who brought back the bloodstained
clothing for forensicr
"I was about to-"
'Tell me," interrupted Havelock. "Did he die of a stroke-a coronary-on the
Chesapeake?"
TnE PARsiFAL MosAlc467
"In his boat, yes."
"Was there an inquest? An autopsy?"
"Not formally, but, again, the answer is yes."
"What does that mean?"
'With a man like that, you don1 promote speculation. The doctor was
cooperative and thoroughly questioned; bes a very respected physician.
X-rays were examined by hun and our own people, the conclusion was
unanimous. A massive aortal hemorrhage." Bradford lowered his voice. "It
was the first thought we had when we heard the news. We didn7t overlook a
thing."
"Thanks," said Havelock, writing a note to himself. "Go on.
jenna placed her drink on the coffee table. "Was he the man with you in the
lobby of the hotel in Barcelona?'
"Yes, it was his operation."
"He was an angry man. His eyes were angry, not concerned, just angry."
"He was in an angry occupation."
"He crashed my door in; he had a gun in his hand~"
"He was worried, we both were. Miss Karas, if you'd come downstan-s or even
stayed in your room-i"
"Please, go on," Michael broke in.
The undersecretary continued as Havelock and jenna listened intently,
interrupting whenever either had a question or felt details should be
clarified. Within the hour it was apparent to Bradford that jenna. Karas
had a mind to contend with and the experience to match. She asked nearly as
many questions as Michael, frequently pursuing specifies until pos-
sibilities not previously considered were suddenly brought to light.
Bradford reached the night when the three strategists were killed, when the
unknown Ambiguity routed the call to Rome placing Havelock "beyond
salvage." The undersecretary of State was thorough, detailing the checks he
had made on the personnel in the L Section of the fifth floor during the
hours of question. None, he was certain, could be Ambiguity.
"Because the conferences and briefings they held were
. . how do you say it?" jenna. looked at MichaeL "Powrdit?"
" Confirmed:' said Havelock, watching her. "Logged in the officid records."
468 RoBEiRT Lul)Lum
'Yes, official." She turned back to Bradford. 'Is this the reason you rule
out these people?"
"None left their meetings long enough to have reached Rome on a code
circuit."
"Forgive me," continued Jenna, "but do you exclude the possibility that
this Ambiguity might have associates? Persons who would lie for himP"
"I don't even want to think about it," said the undersecretary. "But
considering the diversity of those who were there, I do think ies
mathematically impossible. I know too many of those people, have known them
for years, some for nearly two decades."
"Still . . "
'Paminyatchiki?' asked Havelock, his eyes on Jenna.
Fro6 ne? To fe moirj4.-
"Nenduv o tom."
Vy nemdte pravdu.-
"What are you talking aboutP" asked Bradford.
"We're being rude," said Jenna. "Sorry. I thought--r
"She thought it was something to think about," interrupted Michael. 'I
explained that the numbers didiYt add up. Go on, please."
Jenna looked at Havelock and reached for her drink.
The undersecretary of State spoke for nearly four hours, half the time
answering questions and refining countless details until the elegant den
came to seem like a quietly charged courtroom. Bradford was the reluctant
hostile witness facing two agile and relentless prosecuting attorneys.
"How are you dealing with Jacob Handelman?"
"Unsolved. The President read me what you wrote over the phone. Ies
incredible . . . about Handelman, I mean. Are you sure you werent
mistakenP"
"It was his gun, his knife. There was no mistake."
"Berquist said you had to have had an extraordinary reason to kill him."
"Oddly enough, I didn't. I wanted him to sweat-for years, if I could. He
came after me. Are you going to tell the truth about him?'
"Ile President says no. What purpose would it serve? He says the Jews have
been through enough; let it be.*
"Another necessary he?"
"Not necessary, but compassionate, I think."
THE PARSIFAL MOSAIC469
"Koboutek? That farm in Mason Falls?"
"He!s being taken now."
"His clients?"
"Each case will be studied individually and determinations made, again
compassionately:'
Havelock leafed through the pages of his notebook, then put it down on the
coffee table and reached for his empty glass. He glanced at Jenna; she
shook her head. He got up and walked around the couch to pour himself a
drink. "Let me try to put this together," he began quietly. "Ambiguitys
somewhere on the fifth floor of the State Departm and he~s probably been
there for years, feeding Moscow everything he gets his hands on." Michael
paused and walked afinlessly to the thick-paned window; outside, the
floodlights illuminated the landscaped grounds. "Matthias meets this
Parsifal and together they create these incredible-no, not in-
credible~-unthinkable agreements." Havelock: stopped, turning suddenly from
the window and looking hard at Bradford. 'How could it have happened? For
Chrises sake, where were all of you? You saw him every day, talked to him,
watched biral Coul(&t you see what was happening to him?"
"We never knew what role he was playing," said the undersecretary of State,
returning the stare, slow anger finally surfacing. "Charisma has many
facets, like a diamond seen in different lights, different turns. Was he
Dean Matthias sitting in academic judgment, or Dr. Matthias at a lectern,
holding forth for an enraptured convocation? Or was he the European Mr.
Chips, over sherry, with Handel in the background, enlightening his
favorite fdolators of the moment? He did that very well. Then there was the
bon vivatit, the darling of Georgetown, Chevy Chase and the Eastern Shore.
My God, what a coup for a hostessl And how magmificently he performed ...
what charml What witt The sheer force of his personality, a paunchy little
man who suddenly emanated powerl If he'd been capable, he could have had
any woman he wanted. Then, of course, there was the office tyrant. De-
manding, petulant, self-seeking, jealous-so conscious of his image he
scoured the papers for the most minor mention, swelling up with the
headlines, furious at the slightest criticism. And speaking of criticism,
what did he do last year when a lowly senator questioned his motives at the
>
Geneva conference? He went on television, voice choking, dose to
470 ROBERT LUDLUM
tears, and said he would remove himself from public life. Jews, what an
uproarl That senatoes a pariah todayl" Bradford paused, shaking his head,
embarrassed at his outburst. He continued, lowering his voice. "Then there
was Anthony Matthias, the most brilliant Secretary of State in fl-ds
nation~s history.... No, Mr. Havelock, we saw him but we didn~t see him. We
didn7t know him because he was too many people. 0
"Yoere nit-picking a man's vanity," said Michael, walking toward the couch.
"Theyre called shortcomings; you may not have any, the rest of us do. He
was many people; he had to be. Your problem Is that you hated him."
"No, yoere wrong." Again Bradford shook his head. "You doet hate a man like
Matthias," he continued, glancing at je na. "You may be awestruck, or
frightened, or mesmerized-but you don't hate."
"I-ees get back to Parsifal," said Havelock, sitting on the arm of the
couch. "Where do you think he came from?"
"He came from nowhere and he disappeared into nowhere."
'Me second he may have done, the first he couldet have. He came from
somewhere. He met with Matthias time after time, certainly for weeks,
possibly months."
'We!ve checked Matthias's calendars over and over again. Also his logs, his
telephone records, his classified appointments, his every travel
itinerary-where he went, whom he me~ from diplomats to doormen. There were
no consistent repeats. Nothing."
"III want them all. Can you arrange it?'
"Ies arranged."
'Anything on a time span?"
'Yes, spectroanalysis of the copy-page type indicates recent impressions.
Within six months."
"Very good."
"We could have assumed it."
"Do me a favor," said Michael as he sat down and reached for his notebook.
"What's thatr asked the undersecretary.
"Never assume." Havelock wrote on the pad, and added, "VvUch is exactly
what 1'm going to do right now. Parsifars a Russian. Most likely an
untouched, unlisted defectm'
THE PAnsiFAL MosAic471
"Weve assumed that. Someone with extraordinary knowledge of the Soviet
Union~s strategic-arms capabilities."
"Why do you say that?" asked Jenna Karas.
Robert Ludlum - The Parcifal Mosaic.txt Page 59