The Aquaintaine Progession

by Ludlum, Robert

  “Have you tried professional help not mykind but the sort she might need?”

  “Oh, hell, she recovers pretty quick,” said theactor defensively, as if slipping into a role, histeacher’s grammar displaced for effect. “Also, untila few years ago we didn’t have the money for thatkind of thing,” he added somberly in his naturalvoice.

  “What about now? That can’t be a problem now.”

  Dowling dropped his eyes to the flight bag at hisfeet. “If I’d found her sooner . . . maybe. But wewere both late bloomers; we got married in ourforges two oddballs looking for something. It’s toolate now.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I never should have made this goddamn picture.Never. “

  “Why did you?”

  “She said I should. To show people I could playsomething more than a driveling, south-fortydispenser of fifth-rate bromides. I told her it didn’tmatter…. I was in the war, in the Marine Corps. Isaw some crap in the South Pacific but nothing tocompare with what she went through, not a spit inthe proverbial bucket. Jesus! Can you imagine whatit must have been like?”

  “Yes, I can.”

  The actor looked up from the flight bag, ahalf-drawn smile on his lined, suntanned face. “You,good buddy? Not unless you were caught inKorea “

  "I wasn't in Korea.”

  ".Then you’d be hard put to imagine it any more than I. You were too young and I was too lucky.”

  “Well, there was . . .” Converse fell silent, it waspointless. It had happened so often he did notbother to think about it anymore. “Nam had beenerased from the national conversational psyche. Heknew that if he reminded a man like Dowling, adecent man, the air would be filled with apologies,but nothing was served by a jarring remembrance.Not as it pertained to Mrs. Dowling, bornOppenfeld. “There’s the ”no smoking’ sign,” said Joel.“We’ll be in Hamburg in a couple of minutes.”

  “I’ve taken this flight a half-dozen times over thepast two months,” said Caleb Dowling, “and let metell you, Hamburg’s a bitch. Not German customs,that’s a snap, especially this late. Those rubberstamps fly and they push you through in ten minutestops. But then you wait. Twice, maybe three times,it was over an hour before the plane to Bonn evengot here. By the way, care to join me for a drink inthe lounge?” The actor suddenly switched to hisSouthern dialect. “Between you and me, they makeit mighty pleasant for al’ Pa Ratchet. They telexahead and Ah got me my own gaggle of cowpokes,all ridin’ hard to git me to the waterin’ hole.”

  “Well . . . ?”Joel felt flattered. Not only did helike Dowling, but being the guest of a celebrity wasa pleasant high. He had not had many pleasantthings happen to him recently.

  “I should also warn you,” added the celebrity,“that even at this hour the groupies crawl out of thewalls, and the airline PR people manage to roust outthe usual newspaper photographers, but none of ittakes too long.”

  Converse was grateful for the warning. “I’ve gotsome phone calls to make,” he said casually, “but ifI finish them on time, I’d like very much to joinyou.”

  “Phone calls? At this hour?”

  “Back to the States. It’s not this hour back in . . .Chicago.”

  “Make them from the lounge they keep it open forme.”

  “It may sound crazy,” said Joel, reaching forwords, “but I think better alone. There are somecomplicated things I have to explain. After customsI’ll find a phone booth.”

  “Nothing sounds crazy to me, son. I work in Holl

  Bee-wood.” Suddenly, the actor’s amusedexuberance faded. “In the States,” he said softly, hiswords floating again, eyes distant again. “Youremember that crap in Skokie, Illinois? They did atelevision show on it…. l was in the study learninglines when I heard the screams and the sound of adoor crashing open. I ran out and saw my wiferacing down to the beach. I had to drag her out ofthe water. Sixty-seven years old, and she was a littlegirl again, back in that goddamn camp, seeing thelines of hollow-eyed prisoners, knowing which lineswere which . . . seeing her mother and father, herthree kid brothers. When you think about it, youcan understand why those people say over and over,"Never again.’ It can’t ever happen again. I wantedto sell that tucking house; I won’t leave her alone init.”

  “Is she alone now?”

  “Nope,” said Dowling, his smile returning. “That’sthe good part. After that night we faced it; we bothknew she couldn’t be. Got her a sister, that’s whatwe did. Bubbly little thing with more funny storiesabout Cuckooburg than ever got into print. Butshe’s tough as they come; she’s been bouncingaround the studios for forty years.”

  “An actress?”

  “Not so’s anyone could tell, but she’s a great facein the crowd. She’s a good lady, too, good for mywife.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” said Joel, as the aircraft’swheels made bouncing contact with the runway andthe jet engines screeched into reverse thrust. Theplane rolled forward, then started a left turn towardits dock.

  Dowling turned to Converse. “If you finish yourcalls, ask someone for the VIP lounge. Tell themyou’re a friend of mine.”

  “I’ll try to get there.”

  “If you don’t,” added the actor in his Santa Fedialect “see y’awl back in the steel corral. We got usanother leg on this here cattle drive, pardner. Gladyou’re ridin’ shotgun.”

  “On a cattle drive?”

  “What the hell do I know? I hate horses.”

  The plane came to a stop, and the forward dooropened in less than thirty seconds as a number ofexcited passengers rapidly jammed the aisle. It wasobvious from the whispers and the stares and thefew who stood up on their toes to get clearer viewsthat the reason for the swift exodus of this initialcrowd was the presence of Caleb Dowling. And theactor was

  playing his part, dispensing Pa Ratchet benedictionswith warm smiles, broad infectious winks, anddeep-throated laughter, all with good-old-wranglerhumility. As Joel watched he felt a rush ofcompassion for this strange man, this actor, thisrisk-taker with a private hell he shared with thewoman he loved.

  Never again. It can "t ever happen again. Words.

  Converse looked down at the attache case heheld with both hands on his lap. inside was anotherstory, one that held a time bomb ready to detonate.

  I am back, l am well, and l am at yourservice.Also words from another time but full of menacefor the present, for they were part of the story of aliving man’s silent return. A spoke in the wheel ofAquitaine.

  The first rush of curious passengers filed throughthe exit door after the television star, and Joelslipped into the less harried line. He would gothrough customs as rapidly and as unobtrusively aspossible, then find a dark corner of the airport andwait in the deepest shadows until the loudspeakersannounced the plane for Cologne-Bonn.

  Goebbels and Hess accepted Dr. Heinrich Leif-helm’s offer with enthusiasm. One can easily imaginethe propaganda expert visualising the image of thisblond Aryan physician of "impeccable credentials”spread across thousands of pamphlets confirming thespecious theories of Nazi genetics, as well as his alltoo willing condemnation of the inferior, avariciousJew; he was heaven-sent. Whereas for Rudolf Hess,who wanted more than his little boys to be acceptedby the Junkers and the monied class, the Herr Dok--tor was his answer; the physician was obviously atrue

  aristocrat, and in time, quite possibly a lover.

  The confluence of preparation, timing and ap-pearance turned out to be more than young Stoes-sel-Leifhelm could have imagined. Adolf Hitler re-turned from Berlin for one of his Marienplatz rallies,and the imposing Doktor, along with his intense,well-mannered son, was invited to dinner with theFuhrer. Hitler heard everything he wanted to hear,and Heinrich Leifhelm from that day until his deathin 1934 was Hitler’s personal physician.

  There was nothing that the son could not have,

  and in short order he had everything hewanted. In June of 1931 a ceremony was heldat the National Socialists’ headquarters, whereHeinrich Leifhelm’s marriage to “a Jewess wasproclaimed inval
id because of a “concealmentof Jewish blood” on the part of an“opportunistic Hebrew family, " and all rights,claims and inheritances of the children of that“insidious union” were deemed void. A civilmarriage was performed between LeifLelm andMarta Stoessel, and the true inheritor, the onlychild who could claim the name of LeifLelm,was an eighteen-year-old called Erich.

  Munich and thelewish community stilllaughed, but not as loudly, at the absurdannouncement the Nazis inserted in the legalcolumns of the newspapers. It was considerednonsense; the Leifhelm name was a discreditedname, and certainly no paternal inheritance wasinvolved; finally it was all outside the law. Whatthey were only beginning to understand wasthat the laws were changing in changingGermany. In two short years there would beonly one law: Nazi determination.

  Erich LeifLelm had arrived and hisascendancy in the party was swift and assured.At eighteen he was Jungfuhrer of the HitlerYouth movement, photographs of his strong,athletic face and body challenging the childrenof the New Order to join the national crusade.During his tenancy as a symbol, he was sent tothe University of Munich, where he completedhis courses of study in three years with highacademic honors. By this time, Adolf Hitler hadbeen swept into power; he controlled theReichstag, which gave him dictatorial powers.The Thousand-Year Reich had begun andErich Leifhelm was sent to the OfficersTraining Center in Magdeburg.

  In 1935, a year after his father’s death,Erich LeifLelm, now a youthful favorite ofHitler’s inner circle, was promoted to the rankof Oberstleutnant in the Gruppenkommando in Berlin under Rundstedt. He was deeplyinvolved in the vast military expansion that wastaking place in Germany, and as the war drewnearer he entered what we can term the thirdphase of his complicated life, one that ulti

  mately brought him to the centers of Nazi powerand at the same time provided him with anextraordinary means of separating himself fromthe leadership of which he was an intrinsic andinfluential part. This is briefly covered in thefollowing final pages, a prelude to the fourthphase, which we know is his fanatic allegiance tothe theories of George Marcus Delavane.

  But before we leave the young Erich Leifhelmof Eichstatt, Munich, and Magdeburg, two eventsshould be recorded here that provide insightsinto the man’s psychotic mentality. Mentionedabove was the robbery at the Luisenstrasse houseand the resulting profits of the theft. LeiLhelm tothis day does not deny the incident, takingpleasure in the tale because of the despicableimages he paints of his father’s first wife and her“overbearing” parents. What he does not speakof, nor has anyone spoken of it in his presence,is the original police report in Munich, which, asnear as can be determined, was destroyedsometime in August 1934, a date correspondingto Hindenburg’s death and Hitler’s rise toabsolute power as both president and chancellorof Germany with the title of der Fuhrer raised toofficial mandatory status.

  All copies of the police report were removedfrom the files, but two elderly pensioners fromthe Munich department remember it clearly.They are both in their late seventies, have notseen each other in years, and were questionedseparately.

  Robbery was the lesser crime that earlymorning on the Luisenstrasse; the more seriousone was never spoken of at the insistence of thefamily. The fifteen-year-old Leifhelm daughterwas raped and severely beaten, her face and bodybattered so violently that upon admission to theKarlstor Hospital she was given little chance ofrecovery. She did recover physically, butremained emotionally disturbed for the rest ofher short life. The man who committed theassault had to be familiar with the interior of thehouse, had to know there was a back staircasethat led to the girl’s room, which was separatedfrom the rooms of her two brothers and her

  mother in the front. Erich Leifhelm hadquestioned his father in depth regarding theinside design of that house; he was there by hisown admission, and was aware of the fiercepride and strict moral code held by the“tyrannical in-laws.” There is no question; hiscompulsion was such that he had to inflict themost degrading insult he could imagine, and hedid so, knowing the influential family would andcould insist on official silence.

  The second event took place during themonths of January or February 1939. Thespecifics are sketchy insofar as there are fewsurvivors of the time who knew the family well,and no official records, but from those whowere found and interviewed, certain factssurfaced. Heinrich Leifhelm’s legal wife, hischildren and her family tried without successfor several years to leave Germany. The officialparty line was that the old patriarch’s medicalskills, having been acquired in Germanuniversities were owed to the state. Too, therewere unresolved legal questions arising from thedissolved union between the late Dr. HeinrichLeifhelm and a member of the family questionsspecifically relating to commonly shared assetsand the rights of inheritance as they affected anoutstanding officer of the Wehrmacht.

  Erich Leifhelm was taking no chances. Hisfather’s “former” wife and children werevirtually held prisoners, their movementsrestricted, the house on the Luisenstrasse waswatched, and for weeks following any renewedapplications for visas, they were all kept underfull “political surveillance” on the chance thatthey had plans of vanishing. This informationwas revealed by a retired banker who recalledthat orders came from the Finanzministerium inBerlin instructing the banks in Munich toimmediately report any significant withdrawalsby the former Frau Leifhelm and/or her family.

  During what week or on what day ithappened we did not learn, but sometime inJanuary or February of 1936, Frau LeifLelm,her children and her father disappeared.

  However, the Munich court records,impounded by the Allies on April 23, 1945, givea clear, if incom

  plete, picture of what took place. Obviously drivenby his compulsion to validate his seizure of the estatein the eyes of the law, he had a brief filed on behalfof Oberstleutnant Erich Leifhelm listing the articlesof grievance suffered by his father, Dr. HeinrichLeifhelm, at the hands of a family cabal, said familyof criminals having fled the Reich under indictment.The charges, as expected, were outrageous lies: fromoutright theft of huge nonexistent bank accounts tocharacter assassination so as to destroy a great doc-tor’s practice. There was the legal certificate of the"official” divorce, and a copy of the elder Leifhelm’slast will and testament. There was only one trueunion and one true son, all rights, privileges and in-heritances passed on to him: Oberstleutnant ErichStoessel-LeiPhelm.

  Because we possessed reasonably accurate dates,survivors were found. It was confirmed that FrauLeifhelm, her three children and her father perishedat Dachau, ten miles outside of Munich.

  The Jewish Leifhelms were gone; the AryanLeifhelm was now the sole inheritor of considerablewealth and property that under existing conditionswould have been confiscated. Before the age of thir-ty, he had wiped his personal slate clean andavenged the wrongs he was convinced had beenvisited on his superior birth and talents. A killer hadmatured.

  "You must have one hell of a case there,” saidCalebDowling, grinning and poking Joel with his elbow.“Your buttburned up in the ashtray a while ago. I reachedover to closethe goddamned lid, and all you did was raise yourhand likeI was out of order.”“I’m sorry. It’s . . . it’s a complicated brief. Christ, Iwouldn’t raise my hand to you, you’re a celebrity.”Converselaughed because he knew it was expected.“Well, my second bit of news for you, good buddy,is thatcelebrity or no, the smoking lamp’s been on for acouple ofminutes now and you still got a reefer in yourfingers. Now,I grant you, you didn’t light it, but we’re getting alot of Nazilooks over here.”“Nazi . . . ?” Joel spoke the word involuntarily ashe

  pressed the unlit cigarette into the receptacle; hewas not aware that he had been holding it.

  “A figure of speech and a bad line, ’said theactor. “We’ll be in Cologne before you put all thatlegal stuff away. Come on, good buddy, he’s goingin for the approach.”

  “No,” countered Joel without thinking. “He’smaking a pitchout until he gets the tower’sinstructions. It’s standard we’ve got at least threeminutes.”

  “You sound like you know what the hell you’retalking about.”
>
  “Vaguely,” said Converse, putting the Leifhelmdossier into his attache case. “I used to be a pilot.”

  “No kidding? A real pilot?”

  “Well, I got paid.”

  “For an airline? I mean, one of these real airlines?”

  “Larger than this one, I think.”

  “Goddamn, I’m impressed. I wouldn’t havethought so. Lawyers and pilots somehow don’t seemcompatible.”

  “It was a long time ago.” Joel closed his case andsnapped the locks.

  The plane rolled down the runway, the landinghaving been so unobtrusive that a smattering ofapplause erupted from the rear of the aircraft.Dowling spoke as he unfastened his seat belt. “Iused to hear some of that after a particularly goodclass.”

  “Now you hear a lot more,” said Converse.

  “For a hell of a lot less. By the way, where areyou staying, counselor?”

  Joel was not prepared for the question."Actually, I’m not sure,” he replied, again reachingfor words, for an answer. “This trip was alast-minute decision.”

  “You may need help. Bonn’s crowded. Tell youwhat, I’m at the Konigshof and I suspect I’ve got alittle influence. Let’s see what we can do.”

  “Thanks very much, but that won’t be necessary.”Converse thought rapidly. The last thing he wantedwas the attention focused on anyone in the actor’scompany. “My firm’s sending someone to meet meand he’ll have the accommodations. As a matter offact, I’m supposed to be one of the last people offthe plane, so he doesn’t have to try to find me inthe crowd.”