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Robert Ludlum - The Parcifal Mosaic.txt

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by The Parcifal Mosaic [lit]


  not harassed. The minimum police force had maximum arms and a communications

  system that proportionately rivaled that of the Pentagon, where it was prob-

  ably designed. Fox Hollow was an island in a landlocked area of Virginia as

  surely as if its square mileage were surrounded by an impassable sea.

  The air had been warmed by the Potomac River, and the snow bad receded on

  the outskirts of Harpers Ferry. It had turned into a cold drizzle at

  Leesburg, by which time Havelock had prepared his scenario for Raymond

  Alexander. Its bureaucratic plausibility lent it conviction, plausibility

  based on genuine anxiety where present or past covert operations were

  concerned. There had been a killing in New York-if Alexander had not heard

  of it~ be would by morning; be was a voracious reader of newspapers-and the

  killer had mocked

  THE PARsiFAL MosAic397

  up an impersonation, including an ID and an appearance uncomfortably close

  to Michaers own. The State Department had flown him back from London on

  military transport; any assistance the retired foreign service officer could

  give Consular Operations would be appreciated; also, be had been in London,

  hadn't he?

  The Bradford ploy would be refined as their conversation progressed, but

  the basic thrust would be that the once controversial undersecretary of

  State was about to be rehabilitated and put back in the limelight. In

  London, Havelock would say, he had been given a detailed report of

  Bradfor&s extensive but secret negotiations in the touchy matter of NATO

  missile deployment; it was a major shift in policy. It was also

  sufficiently explosive to get Alexander's juices running. It was the sort

  of advance leak he thrived on, giving him time to put together an

  exhaustive analysis of the pros and cons. But if the old warborse wished to

  interview Emory Bradford-with on-site but unseen verification, possibly

  confrontation-be bad to persuade the undersecretary to come out to Fox

  Hollow in the morning. Havelock had a reservation on the afternoon flight

  back to London-and, of course, time and schedules permitting, he wanted to

  drop in on his old mentor Anthony Matthias, if only for a few-minutes. If

  Alexander knew where he could find him.

  As for Bradford, he had no choice. If summoned by the redoubtable

  journalist, he would comply. Other things-such as Costa Brava-might be

  paramount, but he still had to maintain his low profile at all costs, and

  one way to lose it was to refuse to be interviewed by Raymond Alexander.

  And when he came into the house in Fox Hollow, with his guards remaining

  outside in a limousine, Michael would take him. His disappearance would

  baffle the liars and the guards hired by the liars. The journalist's large,

  rambling house was surrounded by miles of dense woods, overgrown fields and

  steep ravines. No one knew forests the way Mikhail Havh6ek knew them; he

  would take Bradford through them until they came to a backeountry road

  somewhere, and a car, and the woman that Bradford had used in Barcelona.

  After his meeting with Alexander, they would have all night to study the

  map and travel the roads, watching for the Fox Hollow pohoe, explanations

  at the ready if they were stopped. They could do it. They had to do it.

  398 ROBEnT LunLum

  "Ies lovelyl" cried Jenna, charmed by the gas-lit streets and the small

  alabaster columns of the storefronts.

  "Ies wired," said Michael, spotting a blue-and-white patrol car at the curb

  in the middle of the block.

  "Cet downl" he ordered. "Stay out of sight."

  "What?"

  Pleme.-

  Jenna did as she was told, curling up on the floor.

  He slowed down, pulling alongside the police car, he saw the officer in the

  window, then eased to his right, and parked directly in front.

  "What are you doing?" whispered Jenna, bewildered.

  "Showing my credentials before anyone asks for them."

  "That's very good, Mikhail."

  Havelock got out of the coupe and walked back to the patrol car. The police

  officer rolled down the window, first studying the license plate on

  Michael's rented car. It was precisely what Michael wanted him to see; it

  could be of value later that night if a "suspicious vehicle" was reported.

  "Officer, could you tell me where there~s a pay phone around here? I

  thought there was one on the comer, but then I havenI been back here in a

  couple of years."

  - "You~ve been here before?" asked the policeman, his voice friendly, his

  eyes not.

  "Oh, sure. Used to spend weekends out here a lot."

  "You have business in Fox Hollow, sir?"

  "Well . . ." Havelock paused, as if the question bordered on impertinence.

  Then he shrugged, as if to say, After all the police have a job to do. He

  spoke in a slightly lower tone. "All right, I understand. My business is

  with an old friend, Raymond Alexander. I want to call and tell him I'm

  here. . . . just in case someone's dropped in on him hed prefer I not meet.

  It's standard procedure with Mr. Alexander, Officer, but you probably know

  that. I could drive around for a while. niprobably have to later on

  anyway."

  The pohceman~s posture had visibly improved at the mention of Alexander's

  name. Limousines and military staff cars were common sights on the road to

  the venerated political oDmmentatoes retreat. There was no such vehicle in

  front of him now, but the operative phrases were printed in the officees

  eyes: "An old frienT; "Used to spend weekends . . .*

  THE PARsiFAL Mosmc399

  ~Yes, sir. Of course, sir. There's a restaurant five blocks up with a phone

  in the lobby."

  "The Lamplighter?" said Havelock, remembering.

  "That's it."

  "I don't think so, Officer. It could be a busy night. Isn~t there a booth

  on the street?"

  "There's one over on Acacia."

  "If you'll tell me how to get there, both R.A. and I would appreciate it."

  "You can follow me, sir."

  Manks very much." Michael started for his car, then stopped and returned

  to the window. "I know this sounds silly, but I was usually driven out

  here. I think I know the way to his home. I take a left on Webster to

  Underhill Road, then straight out for two or three miles, isn't that it?"

  "Ies nearer six miles, sir."

  "Oh? Thanks."

  "After you make your call, I could lead you out, sir. Ies quiet in town

  tonight."

  "That's very kind of you. But really, I couldn't ask you."

  "No problem. That's what we're here for."

  "Well, thanks again. I appreciate it."

  The call to Raymond Alexander brought fortb the response Havelock expected.

  Nothing would do but that he drop in and see the journalist if only for a

  drink. Michael said be was glad Raymond was free, not only to renew an old

  friendship but because be had learned something in London that Alexander

  n-dght want to know about. It might even make up partially for a great many

  expensive dinners Havelock had enjoyed at Raymond's expense.

  On the way back to his car from the booth, Michael stopped at the police

  officees window. "Mr. Alexander wanted me
to get your name. He's very

  grateful to you."

  "Ies nothing, sir. My name's Lewis. Officer Lewis; there!s only one."

  Lewis, he thought. Harry Lewis, professor of political science, Concord

  University. He could not think about Harry now, but he would have to think

  about him soon. Lewis must be convinced be had dropped out of civilization.

  He had, and to reenter it~ liars would have to be found and exposed.

  400 RoBERT LuDLum

  'Is something the matter, sir?"

  "No, nothing at all. I know a man named Lewis. I remembered I was to call

  him. Thanks once again. I'll follow you."

  Havelock climbed behind the wheel of the rented car and looked at Jenna.

  "How are you doing?'

  "Uncomfortable and frightened out of my mindl Suppose that man had come

  over?"

  "I would have stopped him, called to him from the booth, but I didn't think

  it was likely. The police in Fox Hollow stay close to their radios. I just

  don't want you seen, if we can help it. Not around here, not with me."

  The drive out to Alexander?s house took less than twelve minutes. The white

  post-and-rall fence marking the journalist!s property shone in the glare of

  the headlights of both cars. The home itself was set far back from the

  road. It was a tasteful combination of stone and wood, with floodlights

  shining down on the circular drive in front of wide slate steps that led to

  the heavy oak entrance door. The grounds were cleared in the front and on

  the sides of the house; thick, tall trees shot up at random about the

  close-cropped lawn. But where the lawn ended, on either side the dense

  woods abruptly began. From memory, Michael pictured the rear of the house;

  the woods were no farther away from the large back patio than they were

  from the sides of the building. He would use those woods and Bradford would

  enter them with him.

  "When you hear the police car leave," he said to Jenna, "get up and

  stretch, but don't get out. I don't know what kind of alarms Alexander has

  around here."

  "It's been a strange introduction to this free country of yours, Mikhail."

  "Also, don't smoke."

  Dgkuft.-

  "Yotere welcome."

  Havelock purposely touched the rim of the horn as he got out of the car;

  the sound was abrupt and short, easily explained. There were no dogs. He

  walked toward the patrol car in front, hoping the horn would serve its

  function before he reached the window. It did; the front door opened and a

  uniformed maid stood in the frame, looking out.

  "Hello, Margaret]" yelled Michael over the hood of the police car. "Be

  right there." He looked down at the police of-

  THE PAmiFAL MosAic401

  Beer, who had glanced at the door, the scene not lost on him. "Thanks again,

  Officer Lewis," he said, taking a bill from his pocket. 'Td like to-"

  "Oh, no, sir, thanks just the same. Have a good evening, sir." The officer

  nodded with a smile, pulled the gear in place, and drove off.

  Havelock waved; no police, no dogs, only unseen alarms. As long as Jenna

  stayed in the car, she was safe. He walked up the slate steps to the door

  and the maid.

  "Good evening, sir," said the woman in a distinct Irish brogue. "My name is

  Enid, not Margaret."

  "I'm terribly sorry."

  "Mr. Alexander is expecting you. I never heard of a Margaret; the girl

  before me was Gretchen. She lasted four years, may the Lord rest her soul."

  Raymond Alexander got up from the soft easy chair in his book-lined,

  wood-paneled library and walked - toward Michael, his hand outstretched.

  His gait was more lively than one might have expected from his portly

  figure; his cherubic face with the clear green eyes was topped by a mass of

  disheveled hair that managed to stay darker than the years normally

  permitted. In keeping with his anachronistic lifestyle, be wore a deep red

  velvet smoking jacket, something Havelock had not seen since his adolescent

  days in Greenwich, Connecticut.

  "Michael, how are you? My God, ies been four, five years nowl" cried the

  journalist in his clipped, high-pitched voice.

  "Theyve served you well, Raymond. You look great."

  'You dodtl Forgive me, young man, but you look like something one of my

  cats would have left outside. I don7t think retirement agrees with you."

  Alexander released Havelocles hand and quickly raised both of his own.

  "Yes, I know all about it. I keep track when friends answer questions. Four

  yourself a drink, you know the rules here and you look like you need one."

  1.1 will, thanks," said Michael, heading for the familiar copper dry-bar

  against the wall."

  I suppose you'd look better with some sleep. . .

  It was the opportune opening. Havelock sat down opposite the journalist and

  told him the story of the killing in New York and State's flying him back

  from London at 4:00 A.M., U.K. time.

  402RoBE:irr LuoLum

  "I read about that this morning," said Alexander, shaking his head.

  "Naturally, I thought of you-tbe name, of coursebut knew right away it was

  ridiculous. You, of all people, with your background? Did someone steal an

  old identification of yours?"

  "No, it was mocked, thaeswbat we think. At any rate, ies been a long two

  days. For a while I thought I was a prisoner."

  "Well, they never would have brought you over this way if Anton had been

  apprised, I can tell you that."

  Only Matthias's closest friends called him by his Czech first name, and

  because Michael knew it, the statement alarmed him. By necessity, it

  reversed the sequence that Havelock had intended, but it would have been

  unnatural not to inquire. The Bradford ploy would come last; Matthias now.

  "I wondered about that," said Havelock, revolving the glass in his hand,

  his voice casual. "I simply figured be was too damned busy. As a matter of

  fact, I was going to ask you if be was in Washington. I'd like to drop in

  and see him, but my time's limited. I have to get back to London, and if I

  call hiin myself ... well, you know Anton. He'd insist I spend a couple of

  days."

  Alexander leaned forward in the heavily cushioned chair, his intelligent

  face expressing concern. "You don~t know, then?'

  "Know what?"

  "Damn it, that's when government paranoia goes too farl Hes the closest

  thing you have to a father and you're the closest thing he has to a sonl

  You who've kept the secrets of a thousand operations and they haven't told

  you."

  "Told me what?"

  ",.knton's ill. I'm sorry you have to hear it from me, Michael."

  "How ill?"

  "The rumors range from serious to fatal. Apparently he's aware of whichever

  it is, and, true to form, thinks of himself last. When State learned that

  I'd found out, be sent me a personal note swearing me to secrecy."

  "How did you learn of it?"

  "One of those odd things you don't really think about . until you think

  about it. I was inveigled into going to a party

  THE PAnsiFAL MosAjc403

  In Arlington several weeks ago-you know how I detest those exhausting

  exercises in verbal endurance, but the hostess was
a close friend of my late

  wife."

  "I'm sorry," interrupted Havelock, only vaguely remembering the journalises

  wife, a willowy thing who had opted for gardens and flower arrangements. "I

  didn't know."

  "It's all right. It's been over two years now."

  "The party in ArlingtonF'

  "Yes, well to my embarrassment a youngish woman who was quite drunk

  virtually assaulted me. Now, if she'd been a predatory female intent on a

  sexual liaison, I could have understood her being drawn to the most

  desirable man on the prermses, but I'm afraid it wasn't the case.

  Apparently, she had marital difficulties of a most unusual nature. Her hus-

  band was an army officer absent from the household-read 'connubial be&-for

  nearly three months, and no one at the Pentagon would tell her where be

  was. She feigned illness, which I doubt took a great deal of

  self-persuasion, and he was brought back on emergency leave. When she got

  him in her net, she demanded to know where he'd been, what he was

  doing-read 'other woman.' He refused to tell her, so when soldier-boy was

  asleep she went through his clothes and found a security pass for a post

  she'd never heard of; I hadn't either, as a matter of fact. I gather she

  battered him awake and confronted him, and this time in self-defense he

  blurted out that it was the highest-priority classification. It was where

  a very important man was being treated, and he couldn!t say any more."

  "Anton?" broke in Michael.

  "I didn't piece it together until the next morning. The last thing she said

  to me-before some charitable or oversexed guest drove her home-was that the

  country should be told about such things, that the government was behaving

  like Mother Russia. That morning she phoned me, quite sober and in serious

  panic. She apologized for what she described as her 'ghastly behavior' and

  pleaded with me to forget everything she'd told me. I was entirely

  sympathetic, but added that perhaps her instincts were right, although I

  wasn't the person she should appeal to; there were others who would serve

  her better. She replied something to the effect that her husband could be

  ruined, a brilliant military career destroyed. So that was that."

  404RoiBERT LuDLum

  "That was what? How did you flnd out it was Matthias?"

 

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