Robert Ludlum - Aquatain Progression.txt
Page 85
Suddenly, without any warning, Valerie's aunt
rose quickly out of the chair and struck him across
the face. "Such evasive tactics will not serve you
here!" she screamed, striking him again, the ring on
her finger breaking his skin. "We know you
understand every word that's been spoken! Why do
you Czechs and Poles always think you can fool us.
You collaborated ! We have proof
The old women began to shout, their lined,
contorted faces filled with hate. Converse got to his
feet; he understood. Hermione Geyner and everyone
else in that room were mad or senile or both. They
were living in a violent time that was forty years in
the past.
And then, as if on some demented cue, a door
opened across the room and two men came out. One
in a raincoat had his right hand in his pocket and
was carrying some kind of package in his left. The
second man held a topcoat over one arm, no doubt
concealing a weapon. And then a third man
appeared, and Joel closed his eyes, pressing them
shut tight, the pain in his chest unbearable. The third
man had a bandage across his forehead and one arm
in a sling. Converse had caused those wounds; he
had last seen the man in a freight car filled with
frantic animals.
The first man came up to him and held out the
package, a thick manila envelope with no stamps on
the cover. It was the brief he had sent to Nathan
Simon in New York.
"General Leifhelm sends you his regards, even his
respects," said the man, pronouncing the word
"general" with the hard German g
32
Peter Stone watched as the CIA-approved doctor
put the third and final stitch into the corner of the
Army officer's mouth as the captain sat straining in
the chair.
546 ROBERT LUDLUM
"The bridge will have to be repaired," said the
doctor. "I have a man in the laboratory who'd do it
in a few hours and a dentist on Seventy-second
Street, he'll do the rest. "I'll call you later when I've
made the arrangements."
"Son of a bitch!" roared the captain, as loud as
he could with half his mouth Novocained. "He was
a tank, a tucking black tank! He couldn't have been
working for her, he was just a goddamned
cabdriver! Why the hell?"
"Maybe you triggered him," said Stone, walking
away as he looked at several pages of notes. "It
happens."
"What happens?" yelled the officer.
"Cut it out, Captain. You'll break the stitches."
The doctor held up a hypodermic needle; it was a
threat.
"Okay, okay." The officer spoke in a softer voice.
"What does 'trigger' mean in that esoteric language
of yours?"
"It's perfectly clear English." Stone turned to the
doctor. "You know I'm not employed any longer, so
you'd better give me a bill."
"When you're in town a dinner will do. The lab
and the dentist are different, though. I'd suggest
cash. And get him out of uniform."
"Will do."
"What . . . ?" The captain stopped, seeing
Stone's hand held unobtrusively in front of his
chest, telling the officer to be quiet.
The doctor put his instruments in the black bag
and went to the door. "By the way, Stone," he said
to the former CIA agent, "thanks for the Albanian.
His wife is spending Moscow's rubles like mad for
every ache I can find a name for."
"The ache is her husband. He has an apartment
in D.C. she doesn't know about and some very
strange sex habits."
"I'll never tell."
The doctor left, and Stone turned back to the
captain. "When you're with men like that, don't say
any more than you have to, and that includes
questions. They don't want to hear and they don't
want to know."
"Sorry. What did you mean I triggered that hulk?"
"Come on. An attractive woman being chased
down the street by a beribboned Army officer. How
many memories black memories do you think are
out there with less than fondness for your ilk."
"ilk? I never thought of myself as an ilk, but I
see what you mean.... You were on the phone when
I got here, and
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 547
then there were two other calls. What is it? Any line
on the Converse woman?"
"No." Stone again looked down at his notes,
shuffling the pages. "We can assume she came back
to reach someone someone she and her ex-husband
trust."
"He knows his way around Washington. Maybe
someone on the Hill, or even in the administration,
or State."
"I don't think so. If he knew anyone like that and
thought his story would get out before his head was
shot off, he would have surfaced days ago.
Remember, he's been tried, convicted, and
condemned. Can you think of anyone in Washington
who wouldn't play it play him strictly by the rules?
He's contaminated. Too many 'authoritative sources'
have confirmed it, even diagnosed the disease."
"And by now he's learned what we foumd out
months ago. You don't know where they are or who
you're talking to."
"Or whom they've hired," added Stone. "Or whom
they've blackmailed into doing what they want
without giving away any trade secrets." He sat down
opposite the Army officer. "But a couple of other
things have fallen into place. We're getting a pattern
and a few additional names. If we could pull
Converse out and combine what he's learned with
what we've got it might just possibly be enough."
"What?" The captain shot forward in the chair.
"Take it easy. I said just possibly. I've been
calling in some old debts, and if we could put it all
together, there are one or two left I can trust."
"That's why we called you in," said the officer
quietly. "Because you know what to do, we don't....
What have you got?"
"To begin with, have you ever heard of an actor
named Caleb Dowling actually, it's Calvin, but
that's not important except for the computers."
"I know who he is. He plays the father on a
television show called Santa Fe. Don't shout it from
the rooftops, but my wife and I watch it now and
then. What about him?"
Stone looked at his watch. "He'll be here in a few
mix! uses."
"No kidding? I'm impressed."
"You may be more impressed after we've talked to
him."
'Jesus, fill me inl"
"It's one of those odd breaks we all look for that
seem to come out of left field but are perfectly
logical. It's the timing
548 ROBERT IUDLUM
that's not logical.... Dowling was in Bonn filming a
picture and struck up a friendship with Peregrine.
American celebrity, et cetera. He also met Converse
on a pla
ne and got him a hotel room when they
were tough to find. Most significant, Dowling was
the initial contact between Peregrine and Con-
verse which didn't work out because Fitzpatrick
stepped in.',
"So?"
"When Peregrine was killed, Dowling called the
embassy a number of times trying to get an
appointment with the acting ambassador, but he was
put on hold. Finally he sent a note to Peregrine's
secretary saying he had to see her, that it was
important. The secretary met with him, and this
Dowling dropped a bomb on her lap. Apparently he
and Peregrine had an agreement that if Converse
called the embassy and contact was to be made,
Dowling would go along. He didn't think Peregrine
would go back on his word. Secondly, Peregrine told
Dowling that something was rotten in the embassy
ranks some very odd behavior. One incident
Dowling witnessed himself. He said there were too
many things that didn't make sense from
Converse's sane and lucid conversations to the fact
that he, Dowling, hadn't been officially questioned,
as if people were avoiding one of the last people to
see Converse. The bottom line was that he didn't
think Converse had anything to do with Peregrine's
murder. The secretary damn near fainted but told
him he would be contacted. She knew the Agency's
station chief in Bonn and called him. So did I, two
days ago, telling him I was brought in deep down by
"He confirmed all of this?"
"Yes. He called Dowling in, listened to him, and
has begun digging himself. He's coming up with
names, one of which we know, but there'll be
others. I was on the phone with him when you got
here. Dowling flew in yesterday, he's at the Pierre
and will be here by eleven-thirty."
"That's movement," said the captain, nodding.
"Any
"Two other things. You know how stymied we
were when Judge Anstett caught it and how strong
the case was made for a mob killing. Hell, we
weren't even sure why Halliday used Anstett in the
first place. Well, the computer boys at the Army
data banks have come up with the answer. It goes
back to October of 1944. Anstett was a legal officer
in Brad
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 549
fey's First Army, where Delavane held a battalion
command. Delavane railroaded a sergeant who'd
cracked through a court-martial. The charge was
desertion under fire, and Colonel Delavane wanted
an example both for his own troops and for the
Germans, to let the first know they were being led by
a ramrod, and the second that they were fighting
one. The verdict was guilty, the sentence execution."
"Oh, my God," exclaimed the Army officer.
"Slovik all over again."
"Exactly. Except that a lowly lieutenant named
Anstett heard about it and came rolling in with all
his legal barrels smoking. By using psychiatric
evaluation reports he not only got the sergeant sent
home for treatment but literally turned the
proceedings around and put Delavane himself on
trial. Using the same kind of psychological
evaluations stress mainly he called into question
Delavane's fitness for command. It damned near
ruined an illustrious military career, and would have
if it wasn't for the colonel's friends in the War
Department. They buried the report so well it was
under another Delavane's name and wasn't picked
up until all the records were computerised in the
sixties."
'That's one hell of an explanation, Stone."
"It's only part of it. It didn't explain Anstett's
killing itself. And make no mistake, it was the Mafia
down to the man with the gun. ' Stone paused and
turned a page. "So there had to be a connection
somewhere, somehow a link, probably going back
years. The boys with the disks looked further, and I
think we've got it. Guess who was Colonel
Delavane's chief aide in the First Army. No, don't
bother, you couldn't. He was a Captain Parelli,
Mario Alberto Parelli. '
"Good Christ! The senator?"
"The five-term senator, thirty years in that august
body. Up-from-the-bootstraps Mario, with a slight
push from the G.I. Bill, some early benefactors and
a few lucrative legal retainers."
"Wow . . ." said the captain softly, without
enthusiasm, as he leaned back in the chair. "That's
heavy, isn't it?"
"It's there. It fits. And I don't mind telling you
that in '62 and '63, during the Let's-get-Fidel days,
Parelli was a frequent visitor at the White House,
courtesy of both the Kennedy boys."
"Even in the Senate. He's one of the biggest
cannons on the Hill."
550 ROBERT LUDLUM
"While you're staring, let me give you the last
item. We've found Commander Fitzpatrick."
"Whatfl"
"At least we know where he is," completed
Stone. "As to whether we can bring him out, or
even want to try, that's another question."
Valerie got in the cab at McCarran Airport in
Las Vegas and gave the driver the address of a
restaurant on Route 93 repeated twice by Sam
Abbott over the phone. The driver, creasing his
forehead, looked at her in his rearview mirror. Val
was used to men scrutinizing her; she was neither
flattered nor annoyed anymore. Frankly, she was
just bored by the childishness of it all, by the
fantasies of grown-up children abusing themselves
with their eyes.
"Are you sure, miss?" asked the driver.
"I beg your pardon?'
"That isn't a restaurant like I mean a
restaurant. It's a diner, a pit stop for trucks."
"It's where I wish to go,', said Val coolly.
"Sure, okay, fine." The taxi pulled out into the
departing traffic.
The driver was right. A half-acre of asphalt
surrounded the long, low, L-shaped diner; a dozen
huge trucks dwarfed the cars, which were parked at
respectful distances from the intimidating rigs. Val
paid the driver and went inside; she looked around
and walked past the cashier's counter toward the
L-shaped section. Sam had told her he would be in
one of the booths m that area.
He was, at the rear of the second aisle. As
Valerie approached she looked at the man she had
not seen in nearly seven years. He had not changed
much, the brown hair had a fringe of grey around
the temples, but the strong, relaxed face was not
very different perhaps the eyes were a little
deeper, a few more lines at the sides and the
cheekbones a touch more pronounced. It was a
better face for a portrait now, she thought; the
character beneath was emerging. Their eyes met,
and the brigadier general got out of the booth, his
clothes denying his rank and profession. He was
dress
ed in an open sport shirt, tan summer slacks
and dark loafers. He was somewhat shorter than
Joel, but not by much. His grey eyes said she was a
welcome sight.
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 551
"Val. " Abbott held her briefly, obviously not
wanting to call attention to them.
"You look well, Sam," she said, sitting down
across from him, putting the carry-on beside her.
"You look merely outstanding, which is military
for all those other adjectives." Abbott smiled. it's
funny, but I come out here a lot because no one
pays any attention to me, so I thought, hell, it's the
perfect place. I should have remembered you walk
through that arcade of gorillas and eggs get put in
ears with coffee spoons."
'Thanks. I could use some confidence."
"I could probably use a strong alibi. If someone
does recognize me, word will go back that the
brigadier's pulling outside duty."
"You're mamed, Sam?"
"Five years ago. Late, but with all the fixings. A
lovely bride and two beguiling daughters."
I'm so happy for you. I hope I get a chance to
meet her, meet them but not this trip. Definitely
not this trip."
Abbott paused, looking into her eyes, a touch of
sadness in his. Thank you for understanding," he
said.
'There's nothing to understand, or rather, there's
everything to understand. The fact that you're willing
to meet me after all that's happened is more than we