The Aquaintaine Progession
Page 82
“As the days and weeks go by as this terriblething is put behind us the facts will be placedbefore you. For this has been our warning, the tolltaken in blood and in the shaken confidence of ourinstitutions. I remind you, however, that ourinstitutions have prevailed. They will prevail.
"in an hour from now a series of meetings will starttaking
place involving the White House, the departmentsof State and Defense, the majority and minorityleaders of the House and the Senate, and theNational Security Council. Beginning tomorrow, inconcert with other governments, reports will beissued on a daily basis until all the facts are beforeyou.
“The nightmare is over. Let the sunlight of truthguide us and clear away the darkness.”
On the following morning Deputy Director PeterStone of the Central Intelligence Agency,accompanied by Captain Howard Packard andLieutenant William Landis, were brought to theOval Office for a private ceremony. The specifichonors awarded them were never made public, asthere was no reason to do so. Each man, with deeprespect and grahtude but with noregrets declined to accept, each stating thatwhatever honors were involved belonged to a mannot currently residing in the United States.
A week later, in Los Angeles, California, anactor named Caleb Dowling stunned the producersof a television show called Santa Fe by giving themhis notice effective before the start of the newseason. He refused all inducements, claiming simplythat there was not enough time to spend with hiswife. They were going to travel. Alone. And if theresiduals ever ran out, hell, she could always typeand he could always teach. Together. Ciao, friends.
The Aquaintaine Progession
EPILOGUE
Geneva. City of bright reflections and inconstancy.
Joel and Valerie Converse sat at the table whereit had all begun, by the glistening brass railing in theChat Botte. The traffic on the lakeside Quai duMont Blanc was disciplined, unhurried purposemixed with civility. As the pedestrians passed by,both were aware of the glances directed at Joel.There he is, the eyes were saying. There is . . . theman. It was rumored he was living in Geneva, atleast for a while.
By agreement, the second report issued across thefree
world made a direct but on Conversesinsistence brief reference to his role in the tragedythat was Aquitaine. He was exonerated of allcharges. The labels were removed and refuted, thedebt to him acknowledged without specifics on thebasis of NATO security. He refused all interviews,and was not pleased when the media dredged up hisexperiences in Southeast Asia and speculated oncorrelations with the drama of the generals. But hewas consoled by the knowledge that just.as theinterest in him had dwindled years ago, it would doso again faster in Geneva, city of purpose.
They had leased a house on the lake, an artist’shouse with a studio built on the slope leading to thewater, the skylight catching the sun from earlymorning to dusk. The beach house in Cape Ann wasclosed, the lease paid in full and returned to the realestate agent in Boston. Vals friend and neighbor hadpacked her clothes and all her paints, brushes andfavorite easel, and sent everything air freight toGeneva. Valerie worked for several hours eachmorning, happier than she had ever been in her life,permitting her husband to evaluate her progress dailyHe judged it to be eminently acceptable, wonderingout loud whether there was a market for “lakescapes”as opposed to seascapes. It took him two days toremove the last dabs of paint from his hair.
Nor was Joel without employment; he was TalbotBrooks and Simons European branch all by himself.The income itself, however, was not a vital factor, asConverse never remotely considered himself in themold of those attorneys in films and on televisionwho rarely if ever collected fees. Since his legaltalents had been called upon for crucial evidence, hebilled the major governments a reasonable$40O,OOO apiece the minor ones, $250,000. No oneargued. The total came to something over $2.5million, safely deposited in an interestbearing Swissaccount.
“What are you thinking about?” asked Valerie,reaching for his hand.
"About Chaim Abrahms and Derek Belamy Theyhaven’t been found they’re still out there, and Iwonder if they will ever be found. I hope so, becauseuntil they are, it really islet over.
“Its over, Joel, you’ve got to believe it. But thatsnot what I meant. I meant you. How do you feel?”
“I’m not sure. I only knew I had to come hereand find out.” He looked into her eyes, and at thecascading dark hair
that fell to her shoulders, framing the face he lovedso much. “Empty, I think. Except for you.”
“No anger? No resentment?”
“Not against Avery, or Stone or any of theothers. That s past. They did what they had to do;there wasn’t any other way.”
“You re far more generous than I am, my darling."
“I’m more realistic, that’s all. The evidence hadto be gotten by penetrating the outside by anoutsider wandng to get inside. The core was tootight, too lethal.”
“I think they were bastards. And cowards.”
“I don’t. I think they should all be canonized,immortalized, bronzed and with poems writtenabout them for the ages.”
“That’s absolute rubbish! How can you possiblysay such a thing?”
Joel again looked into his wife’s eyes. “Becauseyou’re here. I’m here. And you’re paintinglakescapes, not seascapes. And I’m not in NewYork and you’re not in Cape Ann. And I don’t haveto worry about you, hoping that you’re worryingabout me.”
“If only there’d been another woman or anotherman. It would have been so much easier, so muchmore logical, darling. "
“There was always you. Only you.”
“Try to get away from me again, Converse.”
“No way, Converse.”
Their hands gripped, unashamed tears were intheir eyes. The nightmare was over.