library?"
"Yes, sir. I'll tell him you're here. The name again, please?"
There was a sudden hollow echo preceding the voice that filled the large
hall. "It won't be necessary, Enid." It was the clipped, high-pitched voice
of Raymond Alexander pouring out of an unseen speaker. "And I have been
expecting Mr. Havelock."
Micbaers eyes darted about the walls, his band now gripping Jennds arm. "Is
this another rule, Raymond? Make sure the guest is who he says be is?"
"Ies fairly new," replied the voice.
Havelock walked with Jenna through the elegant living room, filled with
antiques from the far comers of the earth, to the hand-carved door of the
library. He guided her to his left, beyond the frame; she understood. He
reached under his jacket for the Llama automatic and held it at his side
before turning the heavy brass knob. He shoved the door open, his back
pressed against the wall, his weapon ready.
"Is that really necessary, Michael?"
Havelock moved slowly into the frame, quickly adjusting his eyes to the
shadowy indirect lighting of the library. The source was two lamps: one
fringed and on the large desk at the far end of the room; the other a floor
lamp, above the soft
THE PARsxFAL Mosmc655
leather armchair, shining down on the wild, unkempt head of Raymond
Alexander. The old warhorse sat motionless, and in his bloated, pale white
hands was a brandy glass, held In front of his deep-red velvet smoking
jacket.
"Come in," he said, turning to a small boxlike device on the side table. He
pressed a button, and somewhere overhead, on the wall above the door, the
dim glow of a television monitor faded away. "Miss Karas is a handsome
woman. Very lovely.... Come in, my dear."
Jenna appeared, standing next to Michael. "Yo&re a monster," she said
simply.
'Far worse."
'You wanted to 16M us both," she continued. 'Why?'
Not him, never him. Not-Mikhail." Alexander raised his glass and drank.
"Your hf&-or death-was never really considered one way or the other. It was
out of our hands."
"I could kill you for that," said Havelock.
"I repeat. Out of our hands. Frankly, we thought she'd be retired, returned
to Prague, and eventually cleared. Don't you see, Michael, she wasret
Important. Only you; you were the only one that mattered. You had to go,
and we knew they'd never let you, you were too valuable. You had to do it
yourself, insist on it yourself. Your revulsion bad to be so deep, so
painful that there was no other way for you. It worked. You left. It was
necessary."
"Because I knew you," said Havelock. "I knew the man who lead a sick,
disintegrating friend down the road of insanity, turning him into some kind
of grotesque thing-Belial with his finger on the nuclear switch. I knew the
man who did this to Anton Matthias. I knew Parsifal."
"Is that the name they've given? Parsifal? Exquisite imy. No healing wounds
with this fellow, only tearing them aparL Everywhere.
'Ies why you did what you did, isn't 0 1 knew who you were."
Alexander shook his head, the unkempt hair a thousand Coiled springs in
motion, his green eyes, under the fia arched brows, briefly closing. "I
wasnt important, either. Anton insisted-, you became an obsession with him.
You were what was left of his failing integrity, his decaying conedence.0
"But you knew how to do it. You knew a Soviet double
656 ROBEYtT LuDLTTm
agent so high in the government be could have been made Secretary of State.
Would have been if he hadn't been there on that beach at the Costa Brava.
You knew where be was, you knew his name, you reached hirol"
"We had no part of the Costa Braval I learned of it only after inquiring
about you. We couldn~t understand, we were shocked."
"Not Matthias. He was beyond being shocked."
"It was when we knew everything was out of control."
"Not wel Youl"
The old journalist again stopped all movement, his hands gripping the
glass. He locked his eyes with Michaers and answered, "Yes. Me. I knew."
"So you sent me to Poole's Island, expecting me to be killed, and once dead
I was guilty by reason of silence."
"Nor Alexander shook his head, now violently. I never thought you~d go
there, never thought you'd be permitted to gO there.0
"That very convincing story about a soldiees wife you met and what she told
you. It was all a lie. There've been no emergency leaves, no one's left
that island. But I believed you, gave you my word I'd protect the source.
Protect you. I never said anything, not even to Bradford."
"Yes, yes, I wanted to convince you, but not that way. I wanted you to go
up the ladder, using your regular channels, confront them, make them tell
you the truth.... And once you learned the truth, the entire truth, you
might see, you might understand. You might be able to stop it.... Without
me."
"How? For Christ's sake, how?"
"I think I know, Mikhail," said Jenna, touching Havelock's arm as she
stared down at Alexander. "He did mean 'we.' Not T' This man is not
Parsifal. His servant, perhaps, but not Parsifal."
"Is that true?" asked Havelock.
'Pour yourself and Miss Karas a drink, Michael. You know the rules. I have
a story to tell you."
"No drinks. Your rules don't apply any longer."
"At least sit down, and put that gun away. You have nothing to fear here.
Not from me. Not any longer."
Havelock looked at Jenna; he nodded, leading them both to adjacent chairs
across from Alexander. They sat down,
THE PARSIFAL MOSAIC657
Jenna removing the photographs from her coat and placing them on her lap.
Michael shoved the weapon into his pocket. "Go on," he said curtly.
"A number of years ago," began the journalist, staring at the glass in his
hands, "Anton and I committed a crime. In our minds it was far more serious
than any punishment for it might indicate, and the punishment would have
been severe in the extreme. We were fooled . . . 'gulled' is the innocuous
word, 'deceived' more appropriate, 'betrayed~ more appropriate still. But
the fact that it could have happened to us-two pragmatic intellectuals, as
we believed we were-was intolerable to us. Still, it had happened."
Alexander drained his glass and placed it on the table next to his chair.
He folded his puffed, delicate hands and continued. "Whether it was because
of my friendship with Matthias, or for whatever standing I might have had
in this city, a man called me from Toronto saying he had obtained a false
passport and was flying to Washington. He was a Soviet citizen, an educated
man in his early sixties, and an employee in a reasonably high position in
the Soviet government. His intention was to defect, and he asked if I could
put him in touch with Anthony Matthias." The journalist paused and leaned
forward, gripping the arms of the chair. "You see, in those days everyone
knew Anton was about to be tapped for extraordinary things; his influence
was growing with every article he wrote, every trip to Washington. I
arranged a meeting; it took place in this room." Alexander leaned back and
kept his eyes on the floor. "That man had remarkable insights to offer, a
wide knowledge of internal Soviet affairs. A month later he was working for
the State Department. Three years after that Matthias was special assistant
to the President, and two years later, Secretary of State. The man from
Russia, by way of Toronto, was still in the department, his talents so
appreciated that by then he was processing highly classified information as
the director of Eastern bloc debriefings and reports."
"When did you find out?" asked Havelock.
The journalist looked up, and said quietly, "Four years ago. Again, in this
room. The defector asked to meet with us both; he said that what he had to
say was urgent and our schedules for that very night must be cleared-tbere
could be no delays. He sat where Miss Karas is sitting now and told us the
truth. He was a Soviet agent and had been continuously
658 RoBERT LuoLum
funneling the most sensitive information to Moscow for the past six years.
But something had happened and he could no longer function in his role. He
felt old and worn-out, the pressures were too great. He wanted to
disappear."
"And since you and Anton-the pragmatic intellectualshad been responsible
for six years of infiltration, he had you exactly where he wanted you,"
Michael said sharply. "God forbid the great men should be tarnished."
"That was part of it, surely, but then, there was a certain justification.
Anthony Matthias was at his zenith, reshaping global policies, reaching
secure accommodations and d6tente, making the world somewhat safer than it
was before him. Such a revelation would have been politically disastrous;
it would have destroyed him-and the good he was doing. I myself presented
this argument strongly-,,
"I'm sure it didn~t take long to convince him," said Havelock.
"Longer than you think, perhaps," replied Alexander, a trace of weary anger
in his voice. "You seem to have forgotten what he was."
"Perhaps I never really knew."
"You say this was part of it," interrupted Jenna. "What was the other
part?"
The journalist shifted his gaze to rest on Jenna before he spoke. "That man
was given an order with which he could not-would not-comply. He was told to
be prepared for a series of shocking Eastern bloc reports, which he was to
shape in such a way as to force Anton to request a naval blockade of Cuba
along with a presidential Red Alert."
"Nuclear?"
"Yes, Miss Karas. A replay of the '62 missile crisis, but far more
provocative. These startling reports would corroborate photographic
'evidence' purporting to show the jungles and southern coastal regions of
Cuba ringed with offensive nuclear weapons, the first bridge of an imminent
attack."
"For what purpose?" asked Jenna.
"A geopolitical trap," said Michael. "He walks into it, hes finished."
"Precisely," agreed Alexander. "Anton brings the full military might of the
United States to the brink of war, and suddenly the gates of Cuba are
opened and inspection teams
from the world over are invited to see for themselves. There
Trm PARswAL MosAic659
Is nothing, and Anthony Matthias is humiliated, portrayed as a hysterical
alarmist-the one thing be never was-all his brilliant negotiations thrown
away. The healing with them, I might add."
"But this Soviet agent," said jenna, bewildered, "this man who had for six
years fed Moscow secrets, was a professional, if nothing else; he refused.
Did he say why?'
"Quite movingly, I thought. He said Anton Matthias was too valuable to be
sacrificed to a cabal of hotheads in Moscow.
-Ibe Voennaya," said Havelock.
'rbose shocking reports came in and they were ignored. No crisis ever took
place."
"Would Matthias have accepted them as authentic if he hadn't known?" asked
Michael.
"Somebody would have forced him to. Perfectly conscientious men and women
in the section would have become alarmed, would possibly have come to
someone like me-if they hadn't been told in advance what to expect, what
the Intemperate strategy was. Anton called in the Soviet ambassador for a
long confidential talk. Men were replaced in Moscow. .
rbey've come back," said Havelock.
The journalist blinked; be did not understand, nor did he pretend to. He
continued. "The man who bad deceived us, but who ultimately would not
betray some voice inside himself, disappeared. Anton made it possible. He
was given a new identity, a new life, beyond those who would have had him
killed."
"He came back too," said Michael.
"He never really went away. But yes, be came back. A little over a year
ago, without calling, without warning, he came to see me and said we bad to
talk. But not in this room; he wouldn't talk in here and I think I
appreciated that. I remembered too well that night when be told us what
we'd done. It was late afternoon, and we walked along the ~ridge above the
ravine-two old men maldng their way slowly, cautiously over the ground, one
profoundly frightened, the other curiously intense ... in a quiet way,
possessed." Alexander paused. "I'd like some more brandy, this isn't easy
for me."
"rm.not interested," said Michael.
660 RoBERT LuDLum
"Where is it?" asked Jenna, getting up and going to the table, reaching for
the glass.
'The copper bar," said the old man, looking up at her. "Against the wall,
my dear."
"Go on," said Havelock impatiently. "She can hear you; we can both hear
you."
"I meant what I. said. I need the brandy. . . . You don't look well,
Michael. You look tired; you're unshaven and there are dark circles under
your eyes. You should take better care of yourself."
"IT make a note of it."
Jerma returned. "Here you are," she said, handing Alexander his drink and
going to her chair.
It was the first time Havelock noticed that Raymond's hand shook. It was
why he held the glass in both hands, gripping it to reduce the tremble.
"'In a quiet way, possessed.' That!s where you were."
"Yes, I remember." Alexander drank, then looked at Jenna. "Mank you," be
said.
She nodded. "Please, go on."
"Yes, of course.... We walked along the ridge, we two old men that late
afternoon, when suddenly be stopped and said to me, Tou must do as I ask,
for we have an opportunity that will never be presented to the world
again.' I replied that I was not in the babit of acceding to such requests
without knowing what was being asked of me. He said it was not a request
but a demand, that if I refused be would reveal the roles Matthias and I
had played in his espionage activities. He would expose us both, destroy us
both. It was what I feared most-for both of us, Anton more than myself, of
course. But still myself, I can't say otherwise."
"What did be want you to do?" asked Havelock.
"I was to be the Boswell and my journals were to recor
d
the deterioration and collapse of a man with such power that
be could plunge the world into the insanity that was down
the road for him. My Samuel Johnson was, of course, An
thony Matthias, and the message to mankind was to be a so~-
bering one: , This must not be allowed to happen again; no
one man should ever again be elevated to such heights.' "
"'We made him a god,'" said Michael, recalling Berquises words, "when we
didn't own the heavens.'"
"Well put." The journalist nodded his head. "I wish I'd
THE PAiRsriFAL MosAic661
written it. But then, to borrow from Wilde, I probably will, if I ever get
the chance."
"This man, this Russian said Jenna, "told you that afternoon what was
happening to Matthias?"
"Yes. He~d seen him, been with him, knew the signs. Sudden tirades,
followed by weeping, constant seff-justiflcation, false humility that only
served to point up his accomplishments ... growing suspicions about
everyone around him; yet in public there was always the fagade of normalcy.
Then there were the lapses of memory-in the main, concerning failures and
when prodded, the necessity to blame others for those fa&;;s. . . . I came
to see it all, write it all. rd drive to the Shenandoah every week or
so---"
'On SundaysP" broke in Havelock.
"Sundays, yes."
"Deckerr
"Oh, yes, Commander Decker. By then' you see, the man you call Parsifal bad
convinced a deteriorating Anton that all his policies, all his visions
would find their ultimate justification in total strength. The Master Plan,
they called it . . . and they found the man who could provide them with
what they needed."
"For the ultimate chess game " said Michael.
"Yes. Decker would use the 9ack road and meet with Matthias in the cabin be
used when be wanted to be alone."
'The Woodshed," said Havelock. "A voice-activated tape Mtem."
"It never failed," agreed Alexander, in a voice barely above a whisper.
"Never. Even afterwards, when Matthias and ... Parsifal played their
dreadful game, it was all the more terrifying because Matthias was one of
the players. It was frightening in another aspect, too, for Anton would be-
come the warlord statesman, the brilliant negotiator, not seeing the man
Robert Ludlum - The Parcifal Mosaic.txt Page 83