“Yes. It was an acceptable explanation for thosewho knew I did. A cover, I guess. A lot of peoplewho speak several languages do it all the time. It’scommon practice; it cuts con
versations short or at least keeps them to basicstatements, and you always know if you’remisquoted.”
“I forgot, that’s your business in a way.”
"It’s not where the idea came from. It came fromRoger.”
“Dad?”
“Yes. He flew in from Hong Kong a few days agoand some hungry clerk alerted the newspapers thathe was on the flight. When he got into Kennedy itwas a media blitz. He hadn’t read a newspaper orlistened to a radio or seen a television screen in twodays. He was in a panic and called me. I simplymade sure the wire services in West Berlin knew Iwas flying in.”
“How is Dad? He can’t handle this.”
“He’s handling it. So’s your sister less so thanyour father, but her husband stepped into the breachand took over. He’s a better man than you thought,Converse.”
“What’s happening to them? How are they taking it?”
“Confused, angry, bewildered. They’ve changedtheir telephone numbers. They speak throughattorneys supporting you, incidentally. You may notrealize it but they love you very much, although I’mnot sure you gave them much reason to.”
“I think we’re closer to home,” said Joel quietly,as they approached the Schellingwouder Brug. “Ouronce and former home.” They entered the dark spanof the bridge, diaphanous lights above, speckled dotsfar below on the water. Valerie did not respond tohis statement; it was not like her to avoid aprovocation. He could not stand it. “Why, Val?” hecried, “I asked you before, and I have to know! Whydid you fly over?”
“I’m sorry, I was thinking,” she said, her eyesleaving his face, staring straight ahead through thewindshield. “I guess it’s better I say it now whileyou’re driving and I don’t have to look at you. Youlook awful, you’re a mess, and your face tells mewhat you’ve gone through, and I don’t want to lookat you.”
“I’m hurt,” said Converse gently, trying genuinelyto lessen the impact of his appearance. “HelenGurley Brown called and wants me forCosmopolitan’s centerfold.”
“Stop that! It’s not remotely funny and you knowit worse, you don’t even feel like saying it!”
“I retreat. There were times when you never didread me right.”
“I always read you right, Joel!” Valerie continuedto focus on the road and the beams of theheadlights; she did not move her head. “Don’t playthe serious fool any longer. We haven’t time forthat; we haven’t time for your flip remarks. It wasalways a little sad to watch you put people off whoreally wanted to talk to you, but it’s finished now.”
"Glad to hear it. Then talk! Why the hell did youwalk into this?”
Their eyes met in anger, in abrupt recognition,in a love once remembered, perhaps. She turnedaway as Converse steered the car into the right exitoff the bridge, then peeled into the road that ranalong the coastline.
“All right,” said Valerie, hesitant but in completecontrol. “I’ll spell it out as best I can. I say "as bestI can’ because I’m not entirely sure there are toomany complications to be absolutely sure…. Youmay be a rotten husband and careless beyondstoning where another person’s feelings are con-cerned, but you’re not what they say you are. Youdidn’t kill those men.”
“I know that. You said you knew it, too. Whydid you come over here?”
“Because I had tO,-’ said Val, her voice firm,still staring straight ahead. “The other night afterthe news your picture was on every channel, sodifferent from what it was years ago I walkedalong the beach and thought about- you. Theyweren’t pleasant thoughts, but they were honestones…. You put me through my own personal hell,Joel. You were driven by terrible things in yourpast, and I tried to understand because I knew whathad happened to you. But you never tried tounderstand me. I, too, had things I wanted to do,but they faded, they weren’t important…. Okay, Ithought. Someday it’ll pass and the nightmares willgo away for him and he’ll stop and look at me andsay, “Hey, you’re you. ”Well, the nightmares wentaway and it never happened.”
“I concede my adversary’s logic,” said Conversepainfully. ”I still don’t understand.”
"I needed you, Joel, but you couldn’t respond.You were amusing as hell, even when I knew youdidn’t feel like it, and you were terrific in bed, butyour only real concerns were for you, always you.”
“Conceded again, learned counselor. Arld?”
" I remembered something I said to myself thatafternoon when you left the apartment, said itsilently as I watched you
leave. I promised myself that if ever a person I wasclose to needed me as much as I needed you then, Iwouldn’t walk away. Call it the one moralcommitment I’ve ever made in my life. Only theirony is that that person turned out to be you. You’renot a madman and you’re not a killer, but someonewants the world to think you are. And whoever it ishas done it very well. Even your friends who’veknown you for years believe what’s being said aboutyou. I don’t and I can’t walk away.”
“Oh Christ, Val “
"No strings, Converse. No playing an old sweetsong and hopping into bed. That’s out. I came hereto help you, not console you. And over here I can.My roots go back several generabons. They may bewithering underground but they were theunderground undergrounds and they’re willing tohelp. For once you need me, and that’s a twist, isn’tit, friend?”
" A veritable twist,” saidJoel, understanding herlast statement but little else, speeding down the coastroad toward the deserted fields. “Only a fewminutes,” he added. “I can’t be seen in the city andneither can you and you not a chance with me.”
“I wouldn’t worry so much. We’re being watchedby friends.”
“What? What "friends’?”
“Keep your eyes on the road. There were peoplein front of the Amstel, didn’t you see them?”
“I suppose so. No one got in a car and went afteryou.”
“Why should they? There were others on thestreets and over the canals to the consulate “
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“And an old man on a bicycle in the Museumplein.”
“I saw him Was he . . . ?”
“Later,” said Valerie, shifting the large cloth bagat her feet into another position and stretching herlong legs. “They may follow us out here but they’llstay out of sight.”
“Who are you, lady?”
“The niece of Hermione Geyner, my mother’ssister. You never knew my father, of course, but ifyou had he would have regaled you with tales ofMom during the war, but he would have choked atthe mention of my aunt. Even according to theFrench she went too far. The Dutch and Germanundergrounds worked together. I’ll tell you all aboutit later.”
“You’ll tell me later? Following us?”
“You’re new at this. You won’t see them.”
“Shit!”
“That’s expressive.”
“All right, all right! . . . What about Dad?”
“He’s weathering it. He’s staying at my place.”
“Cape Ann?”
“Yes. “
“I sent the envelope there! The ’sketches’ Imentioned on the phone. It’s i verything! Everythingabout what’s happened. It names the names, givesthe reasons. Everything!”
“I left three days ago. It hadn’t arrived by then.But Roger’s there.” Valerie s face paled. “Oh, myGod!”
“What?”
“I’ve been trying to call him! Two days ago, thenyesterday and again today!”
“Coddamn it!” In the distance there were thelights of a bay-front cafe. Joe} spoke rapidly, givingan order that could not be disobeyed. “I don’t carehow you do it, but you call Cape Ann! You comeback here and tell me my father’s all right, do youunderstand?”
“Yes. Because I want to hear it, too.”
Converse skidded to a stop in front of the cafe,knowing he should not have done s
o, but not caring.Valerie rushed out of the car, her purse open, hertelephone credit card in her hand. If there was aphone on the premises, she would use it; no onecould stop her. Joel lit a cigarette; the smoke wasacrid, stinging his throat; it was no relief. He staredout at the dark water, at the lights spanning thebridge in the distance trying not to think. It was nouse. What had he done? His father knew hishandwriting, and the instant he recognized it hewould rip open the envelope. He would be lookingfor exculpation for his son and he would find it. Hewould undoubtedly call Nathan Simonimmediately and therein was the horriblepossibility. Val would know enough from the mate-rial itself to say little or nothing on the phone, butnot his father, not Roger. He would blurt outeverything in a frenzy of anger and defense of hisson. And if others were listening on that line….Where was Val? She was taking too long!
Converse could not stop himself. He cracked thehandle of the door and leaped out of the car. Heraced toward the entrance of the cafe, then stoppedabruptly on the gravel. Valerie walked out, gesturingfor him to back away. He could see the tears rollingdown her cheeks.
"Get in the car,” she said, approaching him.
“No. Tell me what happened. Now.”
“Please, Joel, get back in the car. Two men inthere kept watching me while I was on the phone. Ispoke Cerman, but they knew I was placing a call tothe States, and they saw I was upset. I think theyrecognizedme. We have to get out of here.”
“Tell me what happened!”
“In the car.” Valerie tossed her head to the side,her dark hair flying over her shoulder as she brushedaway her tears, and walked past Converse to theautomobile. She opened the door and got in, sittingmotionless in the seat.
“Goddamn you!” Trembling, Converse ran tothe car, jumped in behind the wheel and started theengine, slamming the door shut as he pulled on thegearshift. Turning the wheel, he backed up, then shotforward into the road, the tires spinning on theborder of gravel. He kept his foot on the acceleratoruntil the dark scenery outside was a racing blur.
“Slow down,” said Val simply, without emphasis.“You’ll only call attention to us.”
He could barely hear her through his panic, buthe heard the order. He eased his foot off the pedal."He’s dead, isn’t he?”
" Yes.”
" Oh, Christ! What happened? What did theytell you? Whom did you talk to?”
“A neighbor, the name’s not important. We havekeys to each other’s house. She volunteered to takein the newspapers and check the place until thepolice reached me. She happened to be there whenI called. I asked her if there was a large envelopesent from Germany in the pile of mail. She saidthere wasn’t.”
"The police? What happened?”
“You know my house is on the beach. There’s ajetty of rocks about a hundred yards up-water. It’snot large or long really, just some kind of markingfrom years ago “
“Tell me!” shouted Joel, gripping the wheel.
“They say he must have gone for a walk lastnight, went out on the jetty and slipped on the wetrocks. There was a large bruise on his head. Hisbody was washed up onshore and found thismorning.”
“Lies! Lies! They heard him! They went afterhimI”
“My telephone? On the plane over here Ithought about that. "
“You would, he wouldn’t! I killed him. Goddamnit, I killed him!”
“ No more than I did,Joel,” insisted the ex-Mrs.Converse, touching his arm, wincing at the sight oftears in his eyes. ” And I loved him very much. Youand I left each other, but he was still a very " losefriend, perhaps my closest.”
“He called you "Valley,’” said Joel, choking,trying to push back the pain. “The bastards!Bastards!”
“Do you want me to drive?”
“No!”
“The telephone I have to ask you I thought thepolice or the FBI or people like that might get acourt order.’
“Of course they would! It s why I knew I couldnt call you. I was going to call Nate Simon.”
“But you’re not talking about the police or theFBI. You’re talking about someone else, some thingelse.”
“Yes. No one knows who they are where theyare. But they’re there. And they can do whateverthey want to do. Jesusl Even Dad! That’s what’s sogoddamned frightening.”
“And that s what you re going to tell me about,isn t it?” said Valerie, gripping his arm.
“Yes. A few minutes ago I was going to holdback and not tell you everything, instead try toconvince you to get Nate to fly over here so wecould meet and he could see I wasn’t crazy. But notnow. There’s no time now; they’re cutting off everyoutlet. They’ve got the envelope it was all I had!. . . I’m sorry, Val, but I am going to tell youeverything. I wish to God I didn t have to for yoursake but like you, I don’t have a choice anymore.”
“I didn’t come over here to give you a choice.
He drove into the field near the water’s edgeand stopped the car. The grass was high, the moona bright crescent over the bay, the lights ofAmsterdam in the distance. They got out and he ledher to the darkest spot he could find, holding herhand, suddenly realizir g that he had not held herhand in years the touch, the gyp, so comfortable,so much a part of them. He repelled the thought; hewas a provider of death.
“Here, I guess,” he said, releasing her hand.
“All right.” She lowered herself gracefully, like adancer,
and sat down on the soft grass, pushing the reedsaside. "How do you feel?” she asked.
"Awful,” said Joel, looking up at the dark sky. “Imeant what I said. I killed him. All the years oftrying his trying, my trying and I end up killinghim. If I’d only let him alone, let him be himself, notsomeone I wanted him to be, he’d probably bedrinking up a storm somewhere thousands of milesaway, telling his crazy stories, making everyonelaugh. But not in your house at Cape Annyesterday.”
“You didn’t force him to fly back from Hong Kong,Joel. "
“Oh, hell, not by pleading or giving him an order,if that’s what you mean. But the order was therenevertheless. After Mother died it was the unspokenwords between us. "Grow up, Dad! Have your littletrips but don’t stay away so long people worry. Beresponsible, father mine.’ Christ, I was so fuckingholier than thou! And I end up killing him.”
“You didn’t kill him! Others did! Now, tell meabout them.”
Converse swallowed, brushing the tears from hiseyes. “Yes, you’re right there isn’t time, even forold Roger.”
“There’ll be time later.”
“If there’s a later,” said Joel, breathing deeply,finding control. “You know about Rene, don’t you?”
“Yes, I read about it yesterday. I was sick…. LarryTalbot told me that you saw him in Paris. How evenRene thought you were disturbed, as Larry did whenyou talked to him. And Rene was killed for seeingyou. Larry must be going out of his mind.”
“That’s not the reason Rene was killed. Let’s talkabout Larry. The first time I reached him I neededinformation without asking him directly. He wasbeing used because of me, followed, and he didn’tknow it. If I’d told him, the jock in him would havereacted, and he’d have been shot down in the street.But the last time I spoke with him I walked into it.I’d broken away from the people who d caughtme I was exhausted, still frightened, and I was openwith him. I told him everything.”
“He mentioned it to me,” interrupted Val. “Hesaid you were reliving your experiences in NorthVietnam. There was a psychiatric term for it "
Converse shook his head, a short, derisive laughemerging from his throat. “Isn t there always? Isuppose there were similarities and I m sure Ialluded to them, but that’s all they
were, similarities…. didn’t hear what I was saying.He was listening for words that confirmed whatothers had said about me, what he believed wastrue. He pretended to be the friend I knew but hewasn’t. He was a lawyer trying to convince a clientthat he was sick, that for everyone’s safety the clientshould turn himself in. When I realized what he wasdoing and that l d told him where I was, I knewhe�
�d spread the word, thinking he was doing theright thing. I just wanted to get out of there, so Ihalfway agreed with him, hung up, and ran…. I waslucky. Twenty minutes later I saw a car drive up infront of the hotel with two of my would-beexecutioners.”
“You’re sure of that?”
Joel nodded. "Y’he next day one of them statedfor the record that he’d seen me at the AdenauerBridge with Walter Peregrine. I wasn’t anywherenear that bridge at least I don’t think so, I don’tknow where it is.”
" “I read that story in the Times. The man wasan Army officer, a major from the embassy namedWashburn.”
“That’s right.” Converse broke off a long bladeof grass, twisting it, tearing it in his fingers. "They’regreat at manipulating the media newspapers, radio,television. Every word they put out is cleansedthrough channels, branded authentic official. Theytake out lives as if people were pieces in a chessgame, including their own. They don’t care; theyonly want to win. And it’s the biggest game inmodern history. The terrifying thing is that they canwin it.”
“Joel, do you know what you’re saying? AnAmerican ambassador, the supreme commander ofNATO, Rene, your father . . . you. Then killers inthe embassy, a manipulated press, lies out ofWashington, Paris, Bonn all given official status.You’re describing some kind of Anschluss, some de-monic, political takeover!”
Converse looked at her in the moonlight, thebreezes off the water bending the tall grass. “That’sexactly what it is, conceived by one man and run bya handful of others, all completely sincere in theirbeliefs and as persuasive as any group ofprofessionals I’ve ester heard. But the bottom lineis that they’re fanatics, killers in a quest theyconsider nothing less than holy. They’verecruited are recruiting like-minded meneverywhere, other frustrated professionals who thinkthere’s nowhere else to turn. They grab at thetheories and the promises, accepting accepting,hell, extolling the
myths of efficiency and discipline and self-sacrifice,because they know it leads to power. Power toreplace the inefficient, the undisciplined, the corrupters and the corrupted. They’re blind; they can’tsee beyond their own distorted image ofthemselves…. If that sounds like a summation itprobably is. I haven’t slept much, but I do a lot ofthinking. "
The Aquaintaine Progession Page 57