"But then you had to get to Cologne-Bonn."
"I was there in forty minutes and called him
back. No Converse had been admitted, and unless
you were crossing the border incognito which I
suspect I know more about than you do you had to
fly in sooner or later."
"You're tenacious."
"I've given you my reasons."
"What about Dowling and that embassy routine
at the hotel."
"Lufthansa had you listed on the passenger
manifest from Hamburg you'll never know how
relieved I was. I hung around the counter in case
there was a delay or anything like that when these
three embassy guys showed up flashing their ID's,
the head man speaking rotten German."
"You could tell?"
"I speak German and French, Italian, and
Spanish. I have to deal with different nationalities."
"I'll let that pass."
"I suppose that's why I'm a lieutenant
commander at thirty-four. They move me around a
lot."
Pass again. What caught you about the embassy
peo
"Your name, naturally. They wanted
confirmation that you were on flight
Eight-seventeen. The clerk sort of glanced at me and
I shook my head; he cooperated without a break in
his conversation. You see, I'd given him a few
deutsche marks but that wasn't it. These people
don't really dig the of ficial U.S. over here."
'1 heard that last night. From Dowling. How did he
come
"Dowling himself, but later. When the plane
arrived I stood at the rear of the baggage claim; the
embassy boys were by the entrance to the gates
about fifty feet away. We all
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 177
waited until there was only one piece of luggage on
the conveyor belt. It was yours, but you never
showed up. Finally a woman came out and the
embassy contingent surrounded her, everyone
excited, upset I heard your name mentioned, but
that's all I heard because by that time I had decided
to go back and speak to the clerk.
"To see if l d really been on the plane?' asked
Converse. "Or whether I turned out to be a no-show.
"Yes," agreed Fitzpatrick. "He was cute; he made
me feel like I was suborning a juror. I paid him, and
he told me this Caleb Dowling whom I think I was
expected to know had stopped at the desk before
going out to the platform.'
"Where he left instructions," said Joel,
interrupting quietly.
"How did you know?"
"I picked up a set at the hotel."
"That was it, the hotel. Dowling told him he'd
met this lawyer on the plane, a fellow American
named Converse who'd sat with him since
Copenhagen. He was worried that his new friend
might not have accommodations in Bonn, and if he
asked Lufthansa for suggestions, the clerk should
send him to the Konigshof Hotel.'
"So you totaled up the figures and decided to
become one of the embassy people who'd lost me,"
said Converse, smiling. "To confront Dowling. Who
among us hasn't taken advantage of a hostile
witness?"
"Exactly. I showed him my naval ID and told him
I was an attache. Frankly, he wasn't very
cooperative."
"And you weren't very convincing, according to
his theatrical critique. Neither was I. Strangely
enough, that's why he got us together." Joel stopped,
crushed out his cigarette against the wall and threw
it over the stone. "All right, Commander, you've
passed muster or roster or whatever the hell you call
it. Where do we stand? You speak the language and
you've got government connections I don t have.
You could help."
The naval of ficer stood motionless; he looked
hard at Joel, his eyes blinking in the glare of the
sunlight, but not from any lack of concentration. "I
ll do whatever I can," he began slowly, "as long as it
makes sense to me. But you and I have to un-
derstand each other, Converse. I'm not backing away
from the two days. That's all you've got~'ve got if I
come on board."
178 ROBERT LUDLUM
"Who made the deadline?"
"I did. I do now."
"It can't work that way."
"Who says?"
"I did. I do now." Converse started walking
along the wall.
'You're in Bonn," said Fitzpatrick, catching up,
neither impatience nor supplication in his gait or in
his voice, only control. "You've been to Paris and
you came to Bonn. That means you have names,
areas of evidence, both concrete or hearsay. I want
it all."
"You'll have to do better than that, Commander."
"I made a promise."
"To whom?"
"My sister! You think she doesn't know? It was
tearing Press apart! For a whole goddamned year
he'd get up in the middle of the night and wander
around the house, talking to himself but shutting
her out. He was obsessed and she couldn't crack
the shell. You'd have to know them to appreciate
this, but they were good, I mean good together. I
know it's not very fashionable these days to have
two people with a passer of kids who really like
each other, who can't wait to be with each other
when they're apart, but that's the way they were."
"Are you married?" asked Joel without breaking
his stride.
"No," answered the Navy man, obviously
confused by the question. "I expect to be. Perhaps.
I told you, I move around a lot."
"So did Press . . . Avery."
"What's your point, counselor?"
"Respect what he was doing. He knew the
dangers and he understood what he could lose. His
life."
"That's why I want the facts! His body was flown
back yesterday. The funeral's tomorrow and I'm not
there because I gave Meagen a promise! I'm
coming back too, but with everything I need to blow
this whole tucking thing apartl"
"You'll only implode it, sending it way down
deep if you're not stopped before that."
"That's your judgment."
"It's all I've got."
"I don't buy it!"
"Don't. Go back and talk about rumors, about a
killing
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 179
in Geneva that nobody win admit was anything but
a robbery or a murder in New York that remains
and probably will remain something it wasn't. If you
mention a man on Mykonos believe me, he'll
disappear. Where are you, Commander? Are you
just a freak, after all, a philosophical blood brother
of Press Halliday who stormed the Presidio and
burned his draft card in the good old days of
muscatel and grass?"
' That's a crock of shit!"
"It's on the record, Commander. By the way, as
a judge advocate, how many officers did you
prosecute?"
"What?"
"
And as defense counsel, how many cases did you
lose?"
"I've had my share of wins and losses, mostly
wins, frankly.'
"Mostly? Frankly? You know there are certain
people who can take fifteen numbers, insert what
they call variables and make the statistics say
anything they want them to say."
"What's that got to do with anything? How is it
connected to Press's death, his murder?"
"Oh, you'd be surprised, Commander Fitzpatrick.
Beneath that brass could be a very successful
infiltrator, perhaps even an agent provocateur in a
uniform you shouldn't be
wearing."
"What the hell are you talking about? . . . Forget
it, I don't want to know. I don't have to listen to you,
but you have to listen to me! You've got two days,
Converse. Am I on board or not?"
Joel stopped and studied the intense young face
beside him young and not so young, there were
hints of creases around the angry eyes. "You're not
even in the same fleet," said Converse wearily. "Old
Beale was right. It's my decision and l choose to tell
you nothing. I don't want you on board sailor.
You're a hotheaded piss ant and you bore me."
oel turned and walked away.
"All right, curl That's a print! Nice work, Cal, I
almost believed that drivel." The director, Roger
Blynn, checked the clipboard thrust in front of him
by a script girl and issued instructions to the camera
crew's interpreter before heading over to the
production table.
Caleb Cowling remained seated on the large rock
on the slope of the hill above the Rhine; he patted
the head of an odoriferous goat, which had just
defecated on the toe of his
180 ROBERT LUDLUM
boot. "I'd like to kick the rest of the shit out of you,
li'l partner, ' he said quietly, "but it wouldn't fit my
well-developed image."
The actor got up and stretched, aware that the
onlookers beyond the roped-off set were staring at
him, chattering away like tourists in a zoo. In a few
minutes he would walk over no, not walk, amble
over and pull the rope off the carriage of an arc
light so he could mingle with the fans. He never
tired of it, probably because it came so late in his
life and was, after all, symbolic of what he and his
wife currently could afford. Also every now and
then there was a bonus: the appearance of one of
his former students, who usually approached him
cautiously, obviously wondering if the good-natured
rapport he had established in the classroom had
survived the onslaught of national recognition or
been drowned in the hdal wave of so-called
stardom. Cal was good at remembering faces, and
not too bad with at least one of a person's two
names, so when these occasions arose, he invariably
would eye his former charge and ask him if he had
completed yesterday's assignment. Or would walk
up to him or her and pedagogically inquire
something like "Of the chronicles Shakespeare drew
from for his histories, which had the greatest impact
on his language, Daniel, Holinshed, or Froissart?"
If the answer came back naming the last, he would
slap his thigh and exclaim words akin to "Hot damn,
li'l wrangler, you busted a tough bronc there!"
Laughter would follow, and frequently drinks and
reminiscences later.
It was a good life these days, almost perfect. If
only some sunlight would reach into the painfully
dark corners of his wife's mind. If it could, she'd be
here on a hillside in Bonn chatting in her quietly
vivacious way with the people beyond the
rope mostly women, mostly those around her
age telling them that her husband was really quite
like their own. He never picked up his socks and
was a disaster in the kitchen; people liked to hear
that even if they didn't believe it. But the sunlight
did not reach those far, dark corners. Instead, his
Frieda remained in Copenhagen, walking along the
beaches of Sjaelland Island, having tea in the
botanical gardens, and waiting for a call from her
husband saying that he had a few days off and
would come out of hated Germany. Dowling looked
around at the efficient, enthusiastic crew and the
curious spectators; laughter punctuated their
conversations, a certain respect as well. These were
not hateful people,
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 181
' Cal?" the voice belonged to Blynn, the film's
director who was walking rapidly across the slope of
the hill. "There's someone here to see you."
'`1 hope more than one, Roger. Otherwise the
men who go under the dubious title of our
employers are grossly overpaying me."
'Not for this pile of kitsch." The director's smile
disappeared, as he approached the actor. Are you
in any trouble, Cal?
~Constantly, but not so it's noticeable."
T'm serious. There's a man here from the
German po.lt,ce the Bonn police He says he has to
talk to yo I i
What about?" Dowling felt a rush of pain in his
stomach it was the fear he lived with.
'He wouldn't tell me. Just that it was an
emergency and he had to see you alone."
~Oh, Chrzst!" whispered the actor. Freddie! .
. . where is he?"
`Over in your trailer."
"In my "
Rest easy," said Blynn. '`That stunt jock Moose
Rosenberg's with him. If he moved an ashtray, I
think that gorilla would throw him through the wall."
Thanks, Roger."
`He meant it when he said 'alone'!"
Dowling did not hear this; he had started running
across the hill toward the small camper he used for
brief periods of relaxation. He prayed to no one in
particular for the best, preparing himself for the
worst.
It was neither, simply another complication in an
enigma. Fneda Dowling was not the subject; instead
it was Joel Converse, an American attorney-at-law.
The stunt man climbed out of the trailer, leaving
Caleb and the police officer alone. The man was in
civilian clothes, his English fluent, his manner
vaguely officious yet courteous.
"I'm sorry to have upset you, Herr Dowling," said
the German in response to Caleb's initial, intense
inquiry about his wife. "We know nothing of Frau
Dowling. Is she ill, perhaps?"
She's had a few spells lately, that's all. She's in
Copenhagen."
182 ROBERT LUDLUM
"Yes, so we understand. You fly there
frequently, don't you?"
'Whenever I can.,'
She does not care to join you here in Bonn?''
Tier was Oppenfeld, and the last time she was in
Germany she wasn't considered much of a human
being. Her memories are, let's say, memorable in
the extreme. They come back with a lot of acid."
&nbs
p; `Yes," said the police officer, his eyes as steady
as Caleb's. "We will live with that for generations."
"I hope so," said the actor.
"I wasn't alive, Herr Dowling. I'm very happy
she survived, I mean that."
Dowling was not sure why but he lowered his
voice, the words nearly inaudible, if not involuntary.
"Germans helped her."
"I would hope so," said the German quietly. "My
business, however, concerns a man who sat next to
you last night on the planes from Copenhagen to
Hamburg and from Hamburg to Bonn. His name is
Joel Converse, an American attorney."
"What about him? By the way, may I see your
identification?"
"Certainly." The police officer reached into his
pocket removed his plastic ID case, and handed it
to the actor, who had his glasses firmly in place. "I
trust everything is in order," added the man.
"What's this Sonder Dezernat?" asked Dowling,
squinting at the small print on the card.
"It is best translated as 'special' 'branch' or
department.' We are a unit of the Bundespolizei,
the federal police. It is our job to look into matters
the government feels are more sensitive than the
normal jurisdictional complaints."
What doesn't say a damn thing, and you know
Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt Page 28
