Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt

by The Aquitaine Progression [lit]

  Mattilon arched his brows in mock astonishment,

  less in mockery than in astonishment. "The emperor

  has all his clothes," said the Frenchman, laughing

  quietly. "Regardless of who claims otherwise. You

  start at the top of the line, as they say in New York.

  No conflict, mon ami; he's not in our league as

  you also say."

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 79

  "Why not?"

  "He moves with saints and warriors. Warriors

  who would be saints, and saints who would be

  warriors. Who has time for such facades?'

  "You mean he's not taken seriously?"

  "Oh, no, he is. Very seriously, by those who have

  the time and the inclination to move abstract

  mountains. He is a pillar Joel, grounded in heroic

  marble and himself immovable. He is the De Gaulle

  who never followed the original, and some say it is

  a pity."

  "What do you say?"

  Mattilon frowned, then cocked his head in a

  Gallic shrug. "I'm not sure. God knows the country

  needed someone, and perhaps Bertholdier could

  have stepped in and steered a far better course than

  the one we embarked upon, but the times were not

  right. The Elysee had become an imperial court, and

  the people were tired of royal edicts, imperial

  sermons. Well, we don't have those any longer;

  they've been supplanted by the dull, grey banalities

  of the workers' credo. Perhaps it is a pity, although

  he could skill do it, I imagine. He began his climb up

  Olympus when he was very young."

  "Wasn't he part of the OAS? Salan's rebels in

  Algeria? They were discredited, called a national

  disgrace."

  "That is a judgment even the intellectuals must

  reluctantly admit could be subject to revision. The

  way all of North Africa and the Middle East has

  gone, a French Algeria could be a trump card

  today." Mattilon paused and brought his hand to his

  chin, his frown returning. "Why on earth would

  Talbot, Brooks and Simon walk away from

  Bertholdier? He may be a monarchist at heart, but

  God knows he's honor personified. He's regal,

  perhaps even pompous, but a very acceptable client

  for all of that.'

  "We've heard things," said Converse quietly,

  shrugging now himself, as if to lessen the credibility

  of hearsay evidence.

  "Mon Dieu, not his women?" exclaimed Mattilon,

  laughing. "Come now, when will you grow up?"

  "Not women."

  "What then?"

  'Let's say some of his associates, his acquaintances.',

  "I hope you make the distinction, 1oel. A man

  like Bertholdier can choose his associates certainly,

  but not his acquaintances. He walks into a room and

  everyone wants to be his friend most claim he is a

  friend."

  80 ROBERT LUDLUM

  ' That's what we want to find out. I want to

  bring up some names, see whether they are

  associates or unremembered acquaintances."

  "Bien. Now you're making sense. I can help, I

  will help We shall have lunch at L'Etalon Blanc

  tomorrow and the next day. It is the middle of the

  week and Bertholdier will no doubt choose one or

  the other to dine there. If not, there's always the

  day after."

  "I thought you couldn't in the door?"

  "Not by myself, no. But I know someone who

  can, and he will be most obliging, I can assure you."

  "Why?"

  "He wishes to talk with me whenever and

  wherever he can. He's a dreadful bore and,

  unfortunately, speaks very little English numbers

  mainly, and words like 'In and out,' or 'Over and

  out,' and 'Dodger-Roger' or 'Roger-Dodger' and

  'runway six' or 'Lift off five' and all manner of

  incomprehensible phrases."

  "A pilot?"

  "He flew the first Mirages, brilliantly, I might

  add, and never lets anyone forget it. I shall have to

  be the interpreter between you, which at least

  eliminates my having to initiate conversation. Do

  you know anything about the Mirage?"

  "A jet's a jet," said Joel. "Pull and sweep out,

  what else is there?"

  "Yes, he's used that one, too. Pull and sweep

  something. I thought he was cleaning a kitchen."

  "Why does he always want to talk with you? I

  gather he's a member of the club."

  "Very much so. We're representing him in a

  futile case against an aircraft manufacturer. He had

  his own private jet and lost his left foot in one of

  your crash landings "

  ' Not mine, pal."

  "The door was jammed. He couldn't

  ground~ject where he wished to, when the plane's

  speed was sufficiently reduced for him to avoid a

  final collision."

  "He didn't slap the right buttons."

  "He says he did."

  "There are at least two backups, including an

  instant manual, even on your equipment."

  "We've been made aware of that. It's not the

  money, you understand; he's enormously wealthy.

  It's his pride. To lose

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 81

  brings into question his current or if you will, lat-

  ter-day skills."

  "They'll be a lot more in question under

  cross-examination. I assume you've told him that."

  "Very gently. It's what we're leading up to."

  "But in the meantime every conference is a hefty

  fee."

  "We're also saving him from himself. If we did it

  swiftly or too crudely, he'd simply dismiss us and be

  driven to someone far less principled. Who else

  would take such a case? The government owns the

  plant now, and God knows it won't pay."

  "Good point. What'll you tell him about me?

  About the club?"

  Mattilon smiled. "That as a former pilot and an

  attorney you can bring an expertise to his suit that

  might be helpful. As to L'Etalon Blanc, I shall

  suggest it, tell him you'd be impressed. I shall

  describe you as something of an Attila the Hun of

  the skies. How does that appeal to you?"

  "With very little impact."

  "Can you carry it off?" asked the Frenchman. The

  question was sincere. "It would be one way to meet

  Bertholdier. My client and he are not simply

  acquaintances, they are friends."

  "I'll carry it off."

  "Your having been a prisoner of war will be most

  helpful. If you see Bertholdier enter, and express a

  desire to meet him, such requests are not lightly

  refused former POW's."

  "I wouldn't press that too hard," said Converse.

  "Why not?"

  "A little digging could turn up a rock that doesn't

  belong in the soil."

  "Oh?" Mattilon's brows arched again, neither in

  mockery nor in astonishment, simply surprise.

  "'Digging,' as you use it, implies something more

  than a spontaneous meeting with odd names

  spontaneously thrown about."

  "Does it?" Joel revolved his glass, annoyed with

  himself, knowing that
any argument would only

  enlarge the lapse. "Sorry, it was an instinctive

  reaction. You know how I feel about that topic."

  "Yes, I do, and I forgot. How careless of me. I

  apologise."

  "Actually, I'd just as soon not use my own name.

  Do you mind?"

  82 ROBERT LUDLUM

  "You're the missionary, not 1. What shall we call

  you?" The Frenchman was now looking hard at

  Converse.

  "It doesn't matter."

  Mattilon squinted. "How about the name of your

  employer, Simon? If you meet Bertholdier, it might

  appeal to him. Lieuc de Saint-Simon was the purest

  chronicler of the monarchy.... Henry Simon. There

  must be ten thousand lawyers named Henry Simon

  in the States."

  "Simon it is."

  "You've told me everything, my friend?" asked

  Rene, his eyes noncommittal. "Everything you care

  to."

  "Yes, I have," said Joel, his own eyes a

  blue-white walk "Let's have another drink."

  "I think not. It's late and my current wife has

  malaise if her dinner is cold. She's an excellent

  cook, incidentally."

  "You're a lucky man."

  "Yes, I am." Mattilon finished his drink, placed

  the glass on the table and spoke casually. "So was

  Valerie. I shall never forget that fantastic canard ~

  I'orange she fixed for us three or four years ago in

  New York. Do you ever hear from her?"

  "Hear and see," answered Converse. "I had lunch

  with her in Boston last month. I gave her the

  alimony check and she picked up the tab. By the

  way, her paintings are beginning to sell."

  "I never doubted that they would."

  "She did."

  "Unnecessarily.... I always liked Val. If you see

  her again, please give her my affectionate best."

  "I wit.

  Mattilon rose from the upholstered chair, his

  eyes no longer noncommittal. "Forgive me, I

  thought so often you were such a matched pair, I

  believe is the expression. The passions dwindle, of

  course, but not the de suite, if you know what I

  mean."

  "I think I do, and speaking for both of us, I

  thank you_for the misplaced concretion.""

  'ye ne comprends pas. "

  "Forget it, it's antiquated doesn't mean

  anything. I'll give her your affectionate best."

  "Merci. I'll phone you in the morning."

  L'Etalon Blanc was a pacifist's nightmare. The

  club's heavy dark wood walls were covered with

  photographs and

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 83

  prints, interspersed with framed citations and

  glistening medals red ribbons and gold and silver

  disks cushioned on black velvet. The prints were a

  visual record of heroic carnage going back two

  centuries, while the evolution in warfare was shown

  in photographs as the horses and caissons and sabers

  became motorcycles, tanks, planes and guns, but the

  scenes were not all that different because the theme

  was constant. Victorious men in uniform were

  depicted in moments of glory, whatever suffering

  there might have been was strangely absent. These

  men did not lose no missing limbs or shattered

  faces here; these were the privileged warriors. Joel

  felt a profound fear as he studied the martial array.

  These were not ordinary men; they were hard and

  strong and the word 'capability' was written across

  their faces. What had Beale said on Mykonos? What

  had been the judgment of the Red Fox of Inchon, a

  man who knew whereof he spoke?

  . . . I know what they can do when we ask them to

  do it Yet how much more could they do if they asked

  it of themselves? wondered Joel. Without the

  impediments of vacillating civilian authorities?

  'Luboque has just arrived," said Mattilon quietly,

  coming up behind Converse. "I heard his voice in the

  lobby. Remember, you don't have to overdo it I'll

  translate what I think is appropriate, anyway but

  nod profoundly when he makes one of his angry

  remarks. Also laugh when he tells jokes; they're

  dreadful, but he likes it."

  "I'll do my best."

  'I'II give you an incentive. Bertholdier has a

  reservation for lunch. At his usual place, table

  eleven, by the window."

  "Where are we?" asked Joel, seeing the

  Frenchman's pressed lips expressing minor triumph.

  "Table twelve. Now."

  "If I ever need a lawyer, I'll call you."

  "We're terribly expensive. Come now, as they say

  in all those wonderful films of yours, 'You're on,

  Monsieur Simon.' Play the role of Attila but don't

  overplay it."

  "You know, Rene, for someone who speaks

  English as well as you do, you gravitate to the tritest

  phrases."

  "The English language and American phrases

  have very little in common, Joel, trite or otherwise."

  "Smart ass."

  "Need I say more? . . . Ahh, Monsieur Luboque,

  Serge, mon amil"

  84 ROBERT LUDIUM - -

  Mattilon's third eye had spotted the entrance of

  Serge Luboque; he turned around as the thumping

  became louder on the floor. Luboque was a short,

  slender man; his physique made one think of those

  jet pilots of the early period when compactness was

  a requirement. He was also very close to being a

  caricature of himself. His short, waxed moustache

  was affixed to a miniaturised face that was pinched

  in an expression of vaguely hostile dismissal directed

  at both no one and everyone. Whatever he had

  been before, Laboque was now a poseur who knew

  only how to posture. With all that was brilliant and

  exciting buried in the past, he had only the memo-

  ries, the rest was anger.

  "Et relief l 'expert f udiefaire den Tom pannier

  aerJennes, -he said, looking at Converse and

  extending his hand.

  ' Serge is delighted to meet you and is sure you

  can help us," explained Mattilon.

  '4I'II do what I can," said Converse. "And

  apologize for my not speaking French."

  The lawyer obviously did so, and Luboque

  shrugged, speaking rapidly, incomprehensibly; the

  word anglais repeated several times.

  "He, too, apologizes for not speaking English,"

  said Mattilon, glancing at Joel, mischievousness in

  his look, as he added, "If he's Iying, Monsieur

  Simon, we may both be placed against these

  decorated walls and shot."

  "No way," said Converse, smiling. "Our

  executioners might dent the medals and blow up the

  pictures. Everybody knows you're lousy shots."

  "Qutest-ce que vous cites?"

  "Monsieur Simon tient a was mmercier pour le

  dejeuner, " said Mattilon, turning to his client. n en

  est. tresf error il estime que l'o,~icier fran,cais eat l'un

  ties meilleurs du monde. "

  "What did you say?"

  "I explained," said the lawyer, turning again,

  "that you were honored to be here, as you believ
e

  the French military especially the officer corps to

  be the finest on earth."

  "Not only lousy shots but rotten pilots," said

  Joel, smiling and nodding.

  "Est-il oral que was aver participe ~ nombKuses

  missions en Asie d u Sud?" asked Lubeque, his eyes

  fixed on Joel.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 85

  'He wants it confirmed that you are really an

  Attila of the skies, that you flew many missions."

  "Quite a few," answered Joel.

  "Beaucoup," said Mattilon.

  Luboque again spoke rapidly, even more

  incomprehensibly, as he snapped his fingers for a

  steward.

  "What now?"

  "He'd rather tell you about his exploits in the

  interests of the case, of course."

  "Of course," said Converse, his smile now fixed.

  "Lousy shots, rotten pilots and insufferable egos."

  "Ah, but our food, our women, our incomparable

  understanding of life."

  "There's a very explicit word in French one of

  the few I learned from my ex-wife but I don't think

  I should use it." Joel's smile was now cemented to