“I think you’ll approve of the accommodations,”said Connal. “I checked them out; that’s why it tookme so long.”
“We’re back in the nineteenth century, you know,”countered Joel. “I trust they have telephones and notjust the Hessian express.”
“All the most modern communications, I madesure of that, too.” The elevator door opened. “Thisway,” said Fitzpatrick, gesturing to the right. “Thesuite’s at the end of the hall.”
“The suited”
“You said you had money in Bonn.”
Two bedrooms flanked a tastefully furnishedsitting room, with French doors that opened onto asmall balcony overlook
ingthe Rhine. The rooms were sunlit and airy, thedecor of the walls again an odd mixture: areproduction of an Impressionist floral arrangementwas beside dramatic prints of past champion horsesfrom the leading German tracks and breeding farms.
“All right, wonder boy,” said Converse, lookingout the open French doors, then turning back toConnal Fitzpatrick, who stood in the middle of theroom, the key skill in his hand. “How did you do it?”
“It wasn’t hard,” replied the Navy lawyer, smiling.“You’d be surprised what a set of military paperswill do for a person in this country. The older guyssort of stiffen up and look like boxer puppiessmelling a pot roast, and there aren’t that manypeople here much under sixty.”
“That doesn’t tell me anything unless you’reenlisting us.”
“It does when I combine it with the fact that I’man aide assigned by the U.S. Navy to accompany animportant American financier over here to holdconfidential meetings with his German counterparts.While in Bonn, naturally, incognito is the bestmeans for my eccentric financier to travel. Every-thing’s in my name.”
“What about reservations?”
“I told the manager that you’d rejected the hotelreserved for us as having too many people youmight know. I also hinted that those countrymen ofhis you’re going to meet might be most appreciativeof his cooperation. He agreed that I might have apoint there.”
“How did we hear about this place?” asked Joel,skill suspicious.
“Simple. I remembered it from severalconversations I had at the Internahonal EconomicConference in Dusseldorf last year.”
“You were there?”
“I didn’t know there was one,” said Fitzpatrick,heading for the door on the left. “I’ll take thisbedroom, okay? It’s not as large as the other oneand that’s the way it should be, since I’m anaide which Jesus, Mary, and Joseph all know is thetruth.”
“Wait a minute,” Converse broke in, steppingforward. “What about our luggage? Since we don’thave any, didn’t that strike your friend downstairs asa little odd for such important characters?”
“Not at all,” said Connal, turning. “It’s skill in thecity at
that unnamed hotel you rejected so emphaticallyafter twenty minutes. But only I can pick it up.”
“Why?”
Fitzpatrick brought his index finger to his lips.“You also have a compulsion for secrecy. Remember,you’re eccentric.”
“The manager bought all that swill?”
“He calls me Kommandant.”
“You’re quite a bullshitter, sailor.”
“I remind you, sir, that in the land of Erin gobrash it’s called good healthy blarney. And althoughyou lack certain qualifications, Press said you were amaster of it in negohations.” Connal’s expressionbecame serious. “He meant it in the best way,counselor, and that’s not bullshit.”
As the Navy lawyer began walking to thebedroom, Joel felt an odd sense of recognition butcould not define it. What was it about the youngerman that struck a chord in him? Fitzpatrick had thatboldness that came with the untried, that lack of fearin small things that caution would later teach himoften led to larger things. He tested waters bravely;he had never come close to drowning.
Suddenly Converse understood the recognition.What he saw in Connal Fitzpatrick washimself before things had happened. Before he hadlearned the meaning of fear, raw fear. And finally ofloneliness.
It was agreed that Connal would return to theCologne-Bonn airport, not for Joel’s luggage but forhis own, which was stored in a locker in thebaggage-claim area. He would then go into Bonnproper, buy an expensive suitcase and fill it with ahalf-dozen shirts, underwear, socks and bestoff-the-rack clothing he could find in Joel’ssizes namely, three pairs of trousers, a jacket or twoand a raincoat. It was further agreed that casualclothes were the most appropriate an eccentricfinancier was permitted such lapses of sartorial taste,and also such attire more successfully concealed theirnon-custom-made origins. Finally, the last stop hewould make before returning to Das Rektorat was ata second locker in the railroad station whereConverse had left his attache case. Once the casewas in the Navy lawyer’s possession and the taxiwaiting outside had picked up its passenger, therewere to be no further stops. The cab was to drivedirectly to the countryside inn.
“I wanted to ask you something,” said Fitzpatrick justbe
fore leaving. “Back at the Alter Zoll you saidsomething about how "they’ would spread the wordthat you couldn’t talk your way through the fiveboroughs of New York. I gathered that referred tothe fact that you don’t speak German.”
“That’s right. Or any other language, adequateEnglish excepted. I tried but it never took. I wasmarried to a girl who spoke fluent French andGerman, and even she gave up. I don’t have the ear,I guess.”
“Who did "they’ refer to?” asked Connal, barelylistening to Converse’s explanation. “The embassymen?”
Joel hesitated. “A little wider, I’m afraid,” hesaid, choosing his words carefully. “You’ll have toknow but not now, not yet. Later.”
“Why later? Why not now?”
“Because it wouldn’t do you a damned bit ofgood, and it might raise questions you wouldn’t wantraised under, shall we say, adverse circumstances.”
“That’s elliptical.”
“fit certainly is. ”
“Is that it? Is that all you’ll say?”
“No. There’s one other thing. I want my briefcase.”
Fitzpatrick had assured him that the switchboardof Das Rektorat was capable of handling telephonecalls in English as well as at least six otherlanguages, including Arabic and he should have noqualms about placing a call to Lawrence Talbot inNew York.
“Christ, where are you, Joel?” Talbot shoutedinto the phone.
“Amsterdam,” replied Converse, not wanting tosay Bonn and having had the presence of mind tomake the call station-to-station. “I want to knowwhat happened to Judge Anstett, Larry. Can you tellme anything?”
“I want to know what’s happened to you! Renecalled last night….”
“Mattilon?”
“You told him you were flying to London.”
“I changed my mind.”
“What the hell ha opened ? The police were withhim; he had no choice. He had to tell them who youwere.” Talbot suddenly paused, then spoke in acalmer voice, a false voice. “Are you all right, Joel?Is there something you want to tell me, somethingbothering you?”
“Something bothering me?”
" Listen to me, Joel. We all know what you wentthrough, and we admire you, respect you. You’re thefinest we’ve got in the international division “
“I’m the only one you’ve got,” Converse broke in,trying to think, trying to buy time as well asinformation. “What did Rene say? Why did he callyou?”
"You sound like your old self, fella.”
“I am my old self, Larry. What did Rene call youabout? Why were the police with him?” Joel couldfeel the slippage; he was entering another sphere andhe knew it, accepted it. The lies would follow, guilejoining deceit, because time and freedom ofmovement were paramount. He had to stay free;there was so much to do, so little time.
“He called me back after the police left to fill mein incidentally, they were from the Surete. As heunderstood it, the driver of a limousine was assaultedoutside the George Cinq�
��s service entrance “
“The driver of a limousine?” interruptedConverse involuntarily. “They said he was achauffeur?”
“From one of those high-priced services that ferryaround people who make odd stops at odd hours.Very posh and very confidential. Apparently thefellow was pretty well smashed up and they say youdid it. No one knows why, but you were identifiedand they say the man may not live.”
“Larry, this is preposterousI” objected Joel, hisprotestation accompanied by feigned outrage. “Yes,I was there in the area but it had nothing to dowith me! Two hotheads got into a fight, and since Icouldn’t stop them, I wasn’t going to get my headhanded to me. I got out of there, and before I founda taxi I yelled at the doorman to call for help. Thelast thing I saw he was blowing his whistle andrunning toward the alley.”
“You weren’t even involved, then,” said Talbot.The statement was a lawyer’s positive fact.
“Of course not! Why would I be?”
“That’s what we couldn’t understand. It didn’tmake sense.”
“It doesn’t make sense. I’ll call Rene and fly backto Paris, if I have to.”
“Yes, do that,” agreed Talbot haltingly. “I shouldtell you I may have aggravated the situation.”
“You? How?”
“I told Mattilon that perhaps you were . . . well,not yourself. When I spoke with you in Geneva, yousounded awful, Joel. Just plain awful.”
"Good God, how did you think I’d feel? A manI was negotiating with dies in front of me bleedingfrom a dozen bullet wounds. How would you feel?”
“I understand,” said the lawyer in New York,“but then Rene thought he saw something inyou heard something that disturbed him, too.”
“Oh, come on, will you people get off it!”Converse’s thoughts raced; every word he spoke hadto be credible, his now diminished “outrage” rootedin believability. “”Mathlon saw me after I’d beenflying in and out of airports for damn near fourteenhours. Christ, I was exhausted!”
“Joel?” Talbot began, obviously not quite readyto get off it. “Why did you tell Rene you were inParis for the firm?”
Converse paused, not for lack of a response butfor effect. He was ready for the question; he hadbeen ready when he first approached Mattilon. “Awhite lie, Larry, and no harm to anyone. I wantedsome information, and it seemed the best way to getit.”
“About this Bertholdier? He’s the general, isn’t he?”
“He turned out to be the wrong source. I toldRene as much, and he couldn’t agree with memore.” Joel lightened his tone of voice. “Also itwould have appeared strange if I’d said I was inParis for somebody else, wouldn’t it? I don’t thinkit would have done the firm any good. Rumors andspeculahon run rampant down our corridors; youtold me that once.”
“Yes, and it’s true. You did the right thing….Damn it Joel, why the hell did you leave the hotelthe way you did? From the basement, or whereverit was.”
It was the moment for expressing with totalconviction a small inconsequential untruth that ifnot carried off would lead to the larger, far moredangerous lie. Connal Fitzpatrick could do it well,reflected Converse. The Navy lawyer had notlearned to fear the small things; he did not knowthey were spoors that could lead one back to a ratcage in the Mekong River.
“Bubba, my friend and sole support,” said Joel,as cavalierly as he could muster. “I owe you manythings, but not the intimacies of my private life.”
“The what of your what?”
“I am approaching middle age at least it’s not far
off and I have no matrimonial encumbrances orguilt about fidelity.”
“You were avoiding a woman?”
“Fortunately for the firm, not a man.”
“Jee-sus! I m so well into middle age I don’tthink about those things. Sorry, young fella.”
“Young and not so young, Larry.”
“We were all off base then. You’d better callRene right away and get this thing cleared up. I can’ttell you how relieved I am.”
“You can tell me about Anstett. That’s why I calledyou.”
“Of course.” Talbot lowered his voice. “A terriblething, a tragedy. What did the papers over theresay?”
Converse was caught; he had not anticipated thequesbon. “Very little,” he replied, trying to rememberwhat Fitzpatrick had told him. “Just that he was shotand apparently nothing was taken from hisapartment.”
“That’s right. Naturally, the first thing Nathanand I thought of was you, and whatever the hellyou’re involved with, but that wasn’t the case. It wasa Mafia vendetta, pure and simple. You know howrough Anstett was on appeals from those people;he’d throw them out as fast as he’d call their at-torneys a disgrace to the profession.”
“It was a confirmed Mafia killing?”
“It will be, and that’s straight from O’Neil downat the commissioner’s office. They know their man,he’s an execuboner for the Delvecchio family andlast month Anstett threw the key away onDelvecchio’s oldest son. He’s in for twelve years withno appeals left; the Supreme Court won’t touchhim.”
“They know the man?”
“It’s only a matter of picking him up.”
“How come it’s so clear-cut?” asked Joe, confused.
“The usual way,” said Talbot. “An informer whoneeds a favor. And since everything’s happened sofast and so quietly, it’s assumed that the ballistics willprove out.”
“So fast? So quietly?”
“The infommer reached the police first thing thismoming. A special unit was dispatched and only theyknow the man’s identity. They figure the gun willskill be in his possession. He’ll be picked up anytimenow; he lives in Syosset.”
Something was wrong, thought Converse. Therewas an inconsistency, but he could not spot the flaw.Then it came
to him. “Larry, if everything’s so quiet, how do youknow about it?”
“I was afraid you’d ask that,” said Talbotuneasily. “I might as well tell you; it’ll probably be inthe newspaper follow-ups anyway. O’Neil’s keepingme posted; call it courtesy, and also because I’mnervous.”
“Why?”
“Except for the man who killed him, I was thelast person to see Anstett alive.”
“Your”
“Yes. After Rene’s second call I decided tophone the judge, after conferring with Nathan, ofcourse. When I finally reached Anstett, I said I hadto see him. He wasn’t happy about it but I wasadamant. I explained that it concerned you. All Iknew was that you were in terrible trouble andsomething had to be done. I went over to hisapartment on Central Park South and we talked. Itold him what had happened and how frightened Iwas for you, frankly letting hi[n know that I heldhim responsible. He didn’t say much, but I think hewas frightened, too. He said he’d get in touch withme in the morning. I left, and according to thecoroner’s report, he was killed approximately threehours later.”
Joel’s breath was short, his head splitting. Hisconcentration was absolute. “Let me get this straight,Larry. You went over to Anstett’s apartment afterRene’s call his second call. After he told the Suretewho I was.”
“That’s right.”
“How long was it?”
“How long was what?”
“Before you left for Anstett’s. After you spokewith Mattilon.”
“Well, let me see. Naturally, I wanted to talk toNathan first, but he was out to dinner, so I waited.Incidentally, he concurred and offered to join me “
“How long, Larry?”
“An hour and a half, two hours at the outside.”
Two hours plus three hours totaled five hours.More than enough time for the killer puppets to be putin place. Converse did not know how it had beendone, only that it had been done. Things hadsuddenly erupted in Paris, and in New York anagitated Lawrence Talbot had been followed to anapartment on Central Park South, where someone,somewhere, recognized a name and a man and thepart he had
played against Aquitaine. Were it otherwise, Talbotwould be the corpse, not Lucas Anstet
t. All the restwas a smoke screen behind which the disciples ofGeorge Marcus Delavane manipulated the puppets.
“"and the courts owed so much to him, thecountry owed so much.” Talbot was speaking, butJoelcould no longer listen.
“I have to go, Larry,” he said, hanging up.
The killing was obscene. That it was carried outso quickly, so efficiently and with such precisedeception was as frightening as anything Conversecould imagine.
Joseph Joey the Nice) Albanese drove hisPontiac down the quiet, tree-lined street in Syosset,Long Island, waving to a couple in a front yard. Thehusband was trimming a hedge under his wife’sguidance. They stopped what they were doing, smiledand waved back. Very nice. His neighbors liked him,thought Joey. They considered him a sweet guy andvery generous, what with letting the kids use his pooland serving their parents only the best booze whenthey dropped over and the biggest steaks moneycould buy when he had weekend barbecues whichhe did often, rotating the neighbors so no one shouldfeel left out.
He was a sweet guy, mused Joey. He was alwayspleasant and never raised his voice in anger toanyone, offering only a glad hand, a nice word anda happy smile to everybody, no matter how lousy hereally felt. That was it, goddamn it! thought Joey.Irra fuckin’ gardless of how upset he was, henever let it show! Joey the Nice was what they calledhim and they were right. Sometimes he figured hehad to be some kind of saint may Jesus Christforgive him for having such thoughts. He had justwaved to neighbors, but in truth he felt like smashinghis fist through the windshield and shoving the glassdown their throats.
It wasn’t them, it was last night that did it! Acrazy night, a crazy hit, everything crazy! And thatRumba they brought in from the West Coast, theone they called Major, he was the nuttiest fruitcakeof them all! And a sadist to boot, the way he beatthe shit out of that old man and the crazy questionshe asked, and shouting all the time. Tutti pazzi!
One minute he’s playing cards in the Bronx, andthe next the phone is ringing. Get down toManhattan fast! A bad heat is needed attualmente!So he goes and what does he find? It’s
that iron-balled judge, the one who closed the steeldoors on Delvecchio’s boy! What craziness! They’lltrace it back to the old man for sure. He’ll knowsuch a"izione from the cops and the courts he’ll belucky to own a small whorehouse in Paler mo if heever got back.
The Aquaintaine Progession Page 24