Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt

by The Aquitaine Progression [lit]

  and the magic hour arrives, meals are suspended."

  "I'd suggest those people upgrade their kitchens."

  The woman smiled. "You're too modest, but that's

  not

  434 ROBERT LUDLUM

  what I mean. You don't sound at all like the man

  on the television screen."

  "Because I'm not he, Miss Heathley," said the

  former university professor, his expression serious,

  his intelligent eyes level with hers. "I assume we

  share certain traits because I've the physical

  instrument through which his fictions are filtered,

  but that s the extent of any similarity."

  "I see. That's very well put."

  "I ve had practice saying it. But I didn't ask you

  here to expound on theories of acting. It s a subject

  with limited appeal."

  "Why did you ask me?"

  "Because I don't know whom else to go to. Well,

  I do, but I can t get near him."

  "Who's that?"

  "The acting ambassador, the one who flew over

  from Washington."

  "He's up to his ears "

  "He should be told," interrupted Caleb. "Warned."

  "Warned?" The woman's eyes grew wide. "An

  attempt on his life? Another killing that maniac,

  Converse?"

  "Miss Heathley," began the actor, his posture

  rigid, his voice quiet. "What I'm about to say may

  shock you, even offend you, but as I said, I don't

  know another person I can go to at the embassy.

  However, I do know there are people over there I

  can't go to."

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I'm not convinced that Converse is either a

  maniac or that he killed Walter Peregrine."

  "What? You can't be serious! You've heard what

  they say about him, how unbalanced he is. He was

  the last person with Mr. Peregrine. Major Washburn

  established that!"

  "Major Washburn is one of those people I'd

  rather not see."

  "He's considered one of the finest officers in the

  United States Army," objected the secretary.

  "Then, for an officer he has a strange concept of

  taking orders from a superior. Last week I brought

  Peregrine to meet someone. The man ran and

  Walter told the major to stop him. Instead,

  Washburn tried to kill him."

  "Oh, now I understand," said Enid Heathley, her

  tone unpleasant. "That was the night you arranged

  a meeting with Converse it was you, I remember

  now! Mr. Peregrine told

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 435

  me. What is this, Mr. Dowling? A Hollywood actor

  protecting his image? Afraid he'll be held responsible

  and his ratings, or whatever they are, will

  plummet that is the word, isn't it? This

  conversation is despicable. 'The woman moved her

  chair back, prepared to leave.

  "Walter Peregrine was a man of his word, Miss

  Heathley," said Caleb, still immobile, staring at the

  secretary. I think you'll agree with that."

  'And?"

  He made a promise to me. He told me that if

  Converse reached him and asked to meet with him,

  I'd come along. Me, Miss Heathley. Specifically not

  Major Washburn, whose achons that night at the

  university were as bewildering to him as they were to

  me."

  The middle-aged woman held her place, her eyes

  narrowed, concerned. `He ureas upset the next

  morning," she said softly.

  Damned angry better describes him, I think. The

  man who ran away wasn t Converse and he also

  wasn't crazy. He was dead serious, with the speech of

  someone used to authority. There was or is some

  kind of confidential investigation going on involving

  the embassy. Peregrine didn't know what it was, but

  he intended to find out. He mentioned that he was

  going to call Washington on a scrambler phone. I'm

  not up on the technology, but I don't think a person

  places a call like that unless he's worried that

  someone might try to tap the line."

  He did place a scrambler call. He told you that?"

  Yes, he did. And there's something else, Miss

  Heathley. As you correctly stated, I'm the one

  responsible for Walter Peregrine ever having heard

  of Converse, and I don't feel very good about it. But

  isn't it odd that in spite of the fact that it wasn't a

  secret you knew, Washhurn knew nobody has

  come to question me since Walter was killed?"

  No one?" asked the woman incredulously. "But

  I included your name in my report."

  "Whom did you give it to?"

  'Well, Norman was handling everything...." Enid

  Heathley stopped.

  "Washburn?"

  "Yes."

  "Didn't you speak to anyone else? Weren't you

  questioned?"

  436 ROBERT LUDIUM

  "Yes, of course. An inspector from the Bonn

  police. I'm sure I mentioned your name I'm

  positive I did."

  "Was anybody else in the room?"

  'Yes," said the murdered ambassador's secretary.

  "Norman," she whispered.

  "Strange behavior for a police department, isn't

  it?" Caleb leaned forward, but only slightly. "Let me

  reemphasize something you just said, Miss Heathley.

  You asked me if I was a Hollywood actor trying to

  protect his image. It's a logical question, and if you

  ever saw the unemployment lines in Los Angeles

  you'd understand just how logical it is. Don't you

  think other people believe the same thing? I haven't

  been questioned because specific people here in

  Bonn think I'm shaking in Pa Ratchet's boots,

  keeping silent so as to protect that image and the

  ratings that make it possible. Oddly enough, that

  reasoning is my best physical protection. You don't

  kill off a Pa Ratchet unless you want the wrath of

  millions of viewers who, in my judgment, would

  latch on to the flimsiest connection to raise

  hysterical questions. National Inquirer, you are

  there."

  "But you're not keeping silent," said Enid Heathley.

  "I'm not talking loudly, either," corrected the

  actor. "But not for the reasons I've described. I owe

  Walter Peregrine I know that better than anyone

  else. And I can't pay that debt if a man I think is

  innocent is hanged for his murder. But here's where

  I step back into my own confusion. I can't be

  certain. I could be wrong."

  The woman returned Dowling's stare, then

  slowly frowned, keeping her eyes on him. "I'm going

  to leave now, but I'd like you to stay here for a

  while, if you wouldn't mind. I'm going to call

  someone I think you should see. You'll understand.

  He'll reach you here no paging, of course. Do as

  he says, go where he wants you to go."

  "Can I trust him?"

  "Mr. Peregrine did," said Enid Heathley,

  nodding. "And he didn't like him."

  "That's trust," said the actor.

  The phone call came and Caleb wrote out the

  address. The doorman at the Konigshof secured him

  a tax
i, and eight minutes later he got out in front of

  an ornate Victorian house on the outskirts of Borm.

  He walked up to the door and rang the bell.

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 437

  Two minutes later he was ushered into a large

  room once a library, perhaps but now with shades

  covering the obvious bookshelves. Shades that were

  detailed maps of East and West Germany. A man

  wearing glasses got up from behind a desk. He

  nodded perfunctorily and spoke. "Mr. Dowling?"

  "Yes."

  'I appreciate your coming out here, sir. My name

  is not important why not call me George?"

  "All right, George."

  "But for your own confidential information and

  I must stress confidential I am the station chief for

  the Central Intelligence Agency here in Bonn."

  "All right, George."

  "What do you do, Mr. Dowling? What's your line

  of work?"

  "Ciao, baby," said the actor, shaking his head.

  25

  The first indefinite light of dawn crept up the

  lower wall of the eastern sky, and along the river pier

  boats bobbed in their slips, straining their lines,

  creating an eerie symphony of creaks and thumps.

  Joel walked beside the young merchant seaman, his

  hand unconsciously straying to his face, to the new

  soft hair that was the outgrowth of a stubble. He had

  not shaved in four days, not since Bonn, and now he

  had the beginnings of a short, neat beard, not yet full

  but no longer an unkempt bristle. One more day and

  he would have to begin clipping it, shaping it,

  another plane of removal from the photograph in the

  newspapers.

  And in one more day he would have to decide

  whether or not to phone Val at Cape Ann. Actually,

  he had made his decision negative. His instructions

  had been clear enough and the possibility that her

  telephone was tapped was more than he could

  handle. Yet he wanted so terribly to hear her voice,

  to hear the support he knew he would find in it.

  Negative. To hear it was to involve her. Negative!

  438 ROBERT LUDIUM

  "It is the last boat on the right,' said the seaman,

  slowing his pace. "I must ask you again, because I

  gave my word. You carry no drugs."

  "I carry no drugs."

  "He may want to search you."

  "I can't permit that," Converse broke in, thinking

  of his money belt. What could be mistaken for a

  cache of narcotics would reveal many times the

  amount of money for which most of the dregs on

  the riverfront would kill.

  "Maybe he want to know why. Drugs bring bad

  penalty, long time in prison."

  "I'll explain to him privately," said Joel, thinking

  again. He would do so with his gun in one hand and

  an additional $500 bill in the other. "But I give you

  my word, no drugs."

  "It iS not my boat."

  "But you made the arrangements, and you know

  enough about me to come after me if they came

  after you."

  "la, I remember. Connect-teecut I been to visit

  friends in Bridge-port. A broker house, a

  vice-president. I find you if I have to."

  "I wouldn't want that. You're a nice fellow who's

  helping me out and l m grateful. I won t get you in

  trouble.

  "Ja," said the young German, nodding his head.

  "I believe you. I believe you last night. You talk

  very good, very high class, but you were stupid. You

  did a stupid thing and your face is red. A red face

  costs more than you want to pay so you pay much

  more to make it go away."

  "Your homilies are getting to me. '

  "Was ist?"

  "Nothing. You're right. It's the story of

  upper-level management. Here.' Joel had the bills in

  his left-hand pocket; he pulled them out. "I

  promised you fifteen hundred dollars. Count it, if

  you like."

  "dye? If is not there I talk loud and you stay

  here. You are too afraid to risk that."

  "You're a natural-born lawyer."

  "Come, I bring you to the captain. To you, he is

  only'captain.' You will be dropped off where he

  says.... And be careful. Watch the men on the boat.

  They will think you have money."

  "That's why I don't want to be searched,"

  admitted Converse.

  "I know. I do my best for you."

  THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 439

  The seaman's best was not quite good enough.

  The captain of the filthy barge, a short hulk of a man

  with very poor teeth, brought Joel up to the

  wheelhouse, where he told him in broken but

  perfectly clear English to remove his jacket.

  "I explained to my friend on the dock that I can't

  do that. '

  "Two hundred dollars Amer~kaner," said the captain.

  Converse had the money in his right-hand pocket.

  He reached down for it, his eyes briefly glancing at

  the portside window where he saw two other men

  climb on board below in the dim light. They did not

  glance up; they had not seen him in the wheelhouse

  shadows.

  The blow came suddenly, without warning, the

  impact such that Joel doubled over, his breath

  knocked out of him, and gripped his stomach. In

  front of him the surly bull of a captain was shaking

  his right hand the grimace on his face indicating

  sharp pain. The German s fist had crashed into the

  gun lodged in Converse's belt. Joel staggered back

  into the bulkhead, leaned against it, and lowered

  himself to the floor as he reached under his jacket

  and took out the weapon. On his haunches, his legs

  bracing him against the wall, he aimed the automatic

  at the captain's huge chest.

  "That was a rotten thing to do," said Converse,

  breathing hard, still holding his stomach. "Now, you

  bastard, your jacketl"

  "Was... 9"

  "You heard mel Take it off, hold it upside down,

  and shake the goddamned thingI"

  The German slowly, reluctantly, slid off his

  waist-length coat, twice darting his eyes to the left of

  Joel, toward the wheelhouse door. "I look only for

  drugs."

  "I'm not carrying any, and if I were, I suspect

  whoever sold them to me would have a better way to

  get across the river than with you. Turn it upside

  down! Shake it!"

  The captain held his coat by the bottom edge and

  let it fall away. A short, ugly revolver plummeted to

  the floor, clacking on the wood, followed by the

  lighter sound of a long knife encased in a flat bone

  handle, flared at the end. As it struck the deck the

  blade shot out.

  "This is the river," said the German without

  elaboration.

  "And I just want to cross it without any

  trouble and trouble to someone as nervous as I am

  is anyone walking through that door." Converse

  angled his head, gesturing at

  440 ROBERT LUDLUM

  the wheelhouse entrance on his left. ' In my state of

  mi
nd, I'd fire this gun. I'd probably kill you and

  whoever else came in here. I'm not as strong as you,

  Captain, but I'm afraid, and that makes me much

  more dangerous. Can you understand that?"

  "Ja. I not hurt you. I look only for drugs.''

  "You hurt me plenty," corrected Joel. "And that

  frightens me."

  "Nein. Bitte . . . please."

  "When do you take the boat out?"

  "When I say."

  "How many crew?"

  "One man, that is all."

  "Liar/" whispered Converse sharply, the gun

  thrust forward.

  "Zwei. Two men . . . today. We pick up heavy

  crates in Elten. On my word, is normal only one

  man. I can t pay more."

  "Start the engine," ordered Joel. "Or engines. I

  only know Chris-Crafts and Bertrams, which is a

  silly fucking thing to say."

  "What?"

  "Do it!"

  "Die Mannschaft. The . . . crew. I must give orders."

  "WaitI" Converse crawled sideways past the

  wheelhouse door, glancing above to his left at the

  thick wooden paneling of the pilot's window, his gun

  never once wavering from its line of fire into the