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Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt

Page 47

by The Aquitaine Progression [lit]


  . was insane, thought the Navy lawyer as a legal

  phrase crept slowly into his consciousness, suddenly

  taking on a blurred viability. Trade-o~: It was a

  daily occurrence in pretrial examinations, both

  civilian and military. We'll drop this if you accept that

  We'll stay out of this area if you stay out of that one.

  Standard practice. Trade-off. Was it possible? Could

  it even be considered? It was crazy and it was

  desperate, but then nothing was sane, nothing held

  much hope. Since force was out of the question,

  could an exchange be made? LeifLelm for

  Converse. A general for a lieutenant.

  Connal did not dare analyze; there were too

  many negatives. He had to act on instinct because

  there was nothing else left, nowhere he could turn

  that did not lead to a blank wall or a bullet. He got

  up from the couch, went to the table with the

  telephone and and reached for the directory on the

  floor. What he had in mind was insane, but he could

  not think about that. He found the name. Fishbein,

  rise. The illegitimate daughter of Hermann Goring.

  The rendezvous was set: a back table at the

  Hansa-Keller cafe on the Kaiserplatz, the

  reservation in the name of Parnell. Fitzpatrick had

  had the presence of mind in California to pack a

  conservative civilian suit; he wore it now as the

  American attorney, Mr. Parnell, who was fluent in

  German and sent by his firm in Milwaukee,

  Wisconsin, to make contact with one use Fishbein in

  Bonn, West Germany. He also had the presence of

  mind in Bonn, West Germany, to have managed a

  single room at the Schlosspark on the

  Venusbergweg and placed Converse's attache case

  where it would be safe for a considerable length of

  time, a trail left for Converse should everything

  blow apart. A trail he would recognize if Joel was

  alive and able to hunt.

  Connal arrived ten minutes early, not merely to

  secure the table but to familiarise himself with the

  surroundings and silently practice his approach. He

  had done the same thing many times before,

  walking into military courtrooms before a trial,

  testing the chairs, the height of the tables, the scan

  of vision of the tribunal on the dais. It all helped.

  He knew it was she when the woman arrived and

  spoke to the mau^tre d' at his lectern. She was tall

  and heavy, not

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 301

  obese but fleshy in a statuesque way, conscious of

  her mature sensuality but smart enough not to

  parade it. She was dressed in a light-grey summer

  suit, the jacket buttoned above her generous breasts,

  a wide white collar demurely angled over the fabric.

  Her face, too, was full but not soft, the high cheek-

  bones lending an appearance of character that might

  not otherwise have been there, her hair was dark

  and shoulder-length, with slight streaks of premature

  gray. She was escorted to the table by the dining

  room's captain. Fitzpatrick rose as she approached.

  "Guten Tag, Frau Fishhein, " he said, extending

  his hand. "Bitte, setzen Sie sich. "

  ' It's not necessary for you to speak German,

  Herr Parnell," said the woman, releasing his hand

  and sliding into the chair under the guidance of the

  captain, who bowed and left. "I make my living as a

  translator."

  "Whatever you feel most comfortable with," said

  Connal.

  "I think under the circumstances I should prefer

  English, and spoken softly, if you please. Now, what

  is this incredible thing you alluded to over the

  telephone, Mr. Parnell?"

  "Quite simply an inheritance, Mrs. Fishbein,"

  replied Fitzpatrick, his expression sincere, his eyes

  steady. "If a few technical questions can be settled,

  and I'm sure they can be, as a rightful legatee you

  will receive a substantial sum of money."

  "From someone in America I never knew?"

  "He knew your father."

  "I did not," said use fishbein quickly, her eyes

  darting about at the adjacent tables. "Who is this

  man?"

  "He was a member of your father's staff during

  the war," answered Connal, lowering his voice still

  further. "With your father's help certain contacts in

  Holland he got out of Germany before the

  Nuremberg trials with a great deal of money. He

  came to the United States by way of London, his

  funds intact, and started a business in the Midwest.

  It became enormously successful. He died recently,

  leaving sealed instructions with my firm, his

  attorneys."

  "But why me?"

  "A debt. Without your father's influence and

  assistance our client would probably have withered

  for years in jail instead of flourishing as he did in

  America. As far as anyone was concerned, he was a

  Dutch immigrant from the Netherlands whose family

  business was destroyed in the war and who

  302 ROBERT LUDLUM

  sought his future in America. That future included

  considerable real estate holdings and a very

  successful meat-packing plant all in the process of

  being sold. Your inheritance is in excess of two

  million American dollars. Would you care for an

  aperitif, Mrs. Fishbein?"

  The woman could not at first reply. Her eyes

  had grown wide, her full jaw slackened, her stare

  was trancelike."I believe I will, Herr Parnell," she

  said in a monotone, finding her voice. "A large

  whisky, if you please."

  Fitzpatrick signaled the waiter, ordered drinks

  and tried several times to make idle conversation,

  commenting on the beautiful weather and asking

  what sites he should see while in Bonn. It was no

  use. Ilse Fishbein was as close to being in a

  catatonic state as Connal could imagine. She had

  gripped his wrist, clutching it in silence with

  extremely strong fingers, her lips parted, her eyes

  two blank glass orbs. The drinks came, the waiter

  left, and still she would not let go of him. Instead,

  she drank somewhat awkwardly, lifting the glass

  with her left hand.

  '~What are these questions to be settled? Ask

  anything, demand anything. Do you have a place to

  stay? Things are so crowded in Bonn."

  "You're very kind; yes, I do. Try to understand,

  Mrs. Fishbein, this is an extremely sensitive matter

  for my firm. As you can well imagine, it's not the

  sort of legal work American attorneys are too happy

  with, and, frankly, had our client not made certain

  provisos connecting the successful completion of

  this aspect of his last will and testament to the full

  execution of other aspects, we might have "

  '.The questions! What are the questions?"

  Fitzpatrick paused before answering, the

  thoughtful lawyer permitting the interruption but

  still intent on making his point. 'everything will be

  handled con
fidentially, the probate court operating

  in camera "

  '~With photographs?"

  'fin private, Mrs. Fishbein. For the good of the

  community, in exchange for specific state and local

  taxes that might not be paid in the event of

  confiscation. You see, the higher courts might

  decide the entire estate is open to question."

  "Yes, the questions! What are they?"

  "Really quite simple. I've prepared certain

  statements, which you will sign and to which I can

  swear to your signature. They establish your

  bloodline. Then there is a short de

  - THE AQUITAINE

  PROGRESSION 303

  position required substantiating the claim. We need

  only one, but it must be given by a former

  high-ranking member of the Cerman forces,

  preferably a man whose name is recognizable, whom

  the recent history books or war accounts establish as

  a working colleague of your natural father. Of course,

  it would be advantageous to have someone known to

  the American military in the event the judge decides

  to call the Pentagon and ask Who is this fellow?' '

  "I know the maul" whispered use Fishbein. "He

  was a field marshal, a brilliant General!"

  "Who is he?" asked the Navy lawyer, then

  instantly shrugging, dispensing with the question of

  identity as irrelevant. "Never mind. Just tell me why

  you think he's the right man, this field marshal."

  "He is greatly respected, although not everyone

  agrees with him. He was one of the grossmachtigen

  young commanders, once decorated by my father

  himself for his brilliancel"

  "But would anyone in the American military

  establishment know him?"

  "Mein Gott! He worked for the Allies in Berlin

  and Vienna after the war!"

  "Yes?"

  "And at SHAPE Headquarters in Brussels!"

  Yes, thought Connal, we're talking aloout the same

  man "Fine," said Fitzpatrick casually but seriously.

  "Don't bother giving me his name. It doesn't matter,

  and I probably wouldn't know it anyway. Can you

  reach him quickly?"

  "In minutes! He's here in Bonn."

  "Splendid. I should catch the plane back to

  Milwaukee by tomorrow noon."

  "You will come to his house and he will dictate

  what you need to his secretary."

  "I'm sorry I can't do that. The deposition must be

  countersigned by a notary. I understand you have the

  same rules over here -- and why not, you invented

  them and the Schlosspark Hotel has both typing and

  notary services. Say this evening, or perhaps early in

  the morning? I should be more than happy to send a

  taxi for your friend. I don't want this to cost him a

  pfennig. Any expenses he incurs my firm will be

  happy to repay."

  use Fishbein giggled a slightly hysterical giggle.

  "You do not know my friend, main Herr."

  304 ROBERT LUDLUM

  "I'm sure we'll get along. Now, how about lunch?"

  '.Ihave to go to the toilet," said the German

  woman, her eyes glass orbs again. As she rose,

  Connal rising with her, she whispered, "Mein Gott!

  Zwei Millionen Dollar!"

  "He does not even care to know your namer"

  cried Ilse Fishbein into the phone. "He's from a

  place called Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and is offering

  me two million dollarsAmerican!"

  "He did not ask who I was?"

  "He said it didn't matter! He probably wouldn't

  know you, in any event. Can you imagine? He

  offered to send a taxi for you! He said you should

  not spend a penny!"

  "It's true Goring was excessively generous during

  the last weeks," mused Leimelm. "Of course, he was

  more often drugged than not, and those who

  supplied him with narcotics which were difficult to

  obtain, were rewarded with the whereabouts of

  priceless art treasures. The one who later smuggled

  him the poisoned suppositories still lives like a

  Roman emperor in Luxembourg."

  "So you see, it's true! Goring did these things!"

  "Rarely knowing what he was doing, however,"

  agreed the general reluctantly. "This is really most

  unusual and very inconvenient, Ilse. Did this man

  show you any documents, any proof of his

  assignment?"

  "Naturally!" lied Fishbein, close to panic, picking

  remembered words out of the air. "There was a

  formal page of legal statements and a . . .

  deposition all to be handled by the courts

  confidentially! In private! You see, there is a ques-

  tion of taxes, which would not be paid if the estate

  was confiscated "

  "I've heard it all before, Ilse," Leifhelm broke in

  wearily. "There are no statutes for so-called war

  criminals and expatriated funds. So the hypocrites

  choke on their hypocritical rules the instant they

  cost money, and abandon them."

  "You are always so perceptive, my general, and

  I have always been so loyal. I've never refused you

  a single request whether it was professional in

  nature or far more intimate. Please. Two million

  American! It will take but ten or fifteen minutes!"

  "You've been like a good niece, I can't deny it,

  Ilse. And there is no way anyone could know about

  you in other matters.... Very well, this evening then.

  I'm dining at the Stei

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 305

  genberger at nine o'clock. I'll stop at the Schlosspark

  at eight-fifteen or thereabouts. You can buy me a

  gift with your shall we say ill-conceived new

  riches."

  "I'll meet you in the lobby.'

  "My driver will accompany me."

  "Ach, bring twenty men!"

  'He's worth twenty-five," Leifhelm said.

  Fitzpatrick sat in the chair in the small

  conference room on the second floor of the hotel

  and examined the gun, the manual of instructions on

  his lap. He tried to match what the clerk had told

  him to the diagrams and instructions, and was

  satisfied that he knew enough. There were basic

  similarities to the standard Navy issue Colt .45, the

  only handgun he was familiar with, and the technical

  information was extraneous to his needs. The

  weapon he had purchased was a Heckler & Koch

  PGS auto pistol, about six inches long its caliber

  nine millimeters, and with a nine-shell magazine clip.

  The instructions emphasized such points as

  "polygonal rifling" and "sliding roller lock functions';

  he let the manual slip to the floor, and practiced

  removing the clip and slapping it back into place. He

  could load the weapon, aim it and fire it; those were

  all that was necessary and he trusted the last would

  not be necessary.

  He glanced at his watch) it was almost eight

  o'clock. He shoved the automatic into his belt,

  reached down for the instructions and stood up,

  looking around the room, mentally checking off the

  movements and the locations he had designated for

/>   himself. As he had expected, the Fishbein woman

  had told him Leifhelm would be accompanied by

  someone, a "driver" in this case, and it could be

  assumed the man had other functions. If so, he

  would have no chance to perform them.

  The room one of twenty-odd conference rooms

  in the hotel that he had reserved under the name

  of a fictitious company was not large, but there were

  structural arrangements that could be put to

  advantage. The usual rectangular table was in the

  center, three chairs on each side and two at the

  ends, one with a telephone. There were additional

  chairs against the walls for stenographers and

  observers all this was normal. However, in the center

  of the left wall was a doorway that led to a very

  small room apparently used for private con-

  versations. Inside was another telephone, which

  when off the

  306 ROBERT LUDIUM

  hook caused a button on the first telephone on the

  conference table to light up; confidentiality had its

  limits in Bonn. The hallway door opened onto a

  small foyer, thus prohibiting those entering from

  scanning the room while standing in the corridor.

  Connalfolded the Heckler & Koch instructions,

  put them in his jacket pocket, and walked over to

  the table to survey his set pieces. He had gone to an

  oflfice-supply store and purchased the appropriate

  items. On the far end of the table by the

  telephone which was placed perpendicular to the

  edge, the buttons in clear view were several file

  folders next to an open briefcase (from a distance

  its dark plastic looked like expensive leather).

 

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