What doesn’t say a damn thing, and you knowit,” said the actor. We can use lines like that inmovies and get away with it because we write in allthose reactions, but you’re not Helmut Dantine orMartin Kosleck and I’m not Elissa Landi. Spell itout.”
every well, I shall spell it out. Interpol. A mandied in a Paris hospital as a result of head injuriesinflicted by the American, Joel Converse. Hiscondition was diagnosed as improving, butunfortunately it was only temporary; he was founddead this morning. The death is attributed to anunpro
yoked attack by Herr Converse. We know he flewinto Koln-Bonn, and according to the airlinestewardesses, you sat with him for three and a halfhours. We want to know where he is. Perhaps youcan help us.”
Dowling removed his glasses, lowering his chinand swallowing as he did so. And you think I know?”
We have no idea, but you talked with him. Andwe hope you do know that there are severe penaltiesfor withholding information about a fugitive,especially one sought for a killing.”
The actor fingered the stems of his glasses, hisinstincts in conflict, erupting. He walked over to thecot against the wall and sat down, looking up at thepolice officer.. “Why don’t I trust you?” he asked.
"Because you think of your wife and will trust noGerman,” replied the German. I am a man of lawand peace Herr Dowling. Order is something thepeople decide for themselves, myself among them.The report we have received states clearly that thisConverse may be a very disturbed man.”
“He didn’t sound disturbed to me. In fact, Ithought he had a damned good head on hisshoulders. He said a lot of very perceptive things.”
“That you wanted to hear?”
“Not all of them.”
“But a good percentage, leading up to all of them.”
“What does that mean?”
“A madman is convincing; he plays on all sides,eventually weighing everything in his favor. It’s theessence of his madness, his psychosis, his ownconvictions.”
Dowling dropped the glasses on the cot, exhalingaudibly feeling the pain of fear again in his stomach.PA madman?” he said without conviction. “I don’tbelieve that.”
“Then let us have a chance to disprove it. Do youknow where he is?”
The actor squinted at the German. “Give me acard or a number where I can reach you. He may getin touch with me.”
“Who was responsible?” The man in the red silkrobe behind the large desk sat in semidarkness, abrass lamp serving to throw a harsh circle of light onthe surface in front of him. The glow was sufficientto reveal the outlines of a huge map
cantered on the wall behind the man and the desk.It was a strange map, not of the global world but offragments of the world. The shapes of nations wereclearly defined yet oddly shadowed, eerily colored,as if an attempt had been made to create a singlelandmass out of disparate geographical areas. Theyincluded all of Europe, most of the Mediterraneanand selected portions of Africa. And as if the wideexpanse of the Atlantic Ocean were merely a paleblue connector, Canada and the United States ofAmerica were part of this arcane entity.
The man stared straight ahead. His lined,squarejawed face, with its aquiline nose and thin,stretched lips, seemed molded from parchment; hisclose-cropped salt-and-pepper hair was singularlyappropriate for a man with such a rigidly framedtorso. He spoke again; his voice was rather high,with no resonance but with a secure sense ofcommand. One could easily imagine this voiceraised in volume even to fever pitch like atomcat screeching across a frozen lake. It was notraised now, however; it was the essence of quieturgency. " Who was responsible?” he repeated. “Areyou still on the line, London?”
“Yes,” replied the caller from Great Britain.“Yes, of course. I’m trying to think, trying to befair.”
“I admire that, but decisions have to be made. Inall likelihood the responsibility will be shared, wesimply have to know the sequence.” The manpaused; when he continued, his voice suddenly tookon an intensity that was a complete departure fromhis previous tone. It was the shrill call of the catacross the ice-bound lake. “How was Interpolinvolved?”
Startled, the Englishman answered quickly, hisphrases clipped, the words rushing headlong overone another. “Bertholdier’s aide was found dead atfour in the morning Paris fame. Apparently he wasto receive hospital medication at that hour. Thenurse called the Surete “
“The Surete?” shouted the man behind the deskin front of the fragmented map. “Why the Surete’?Why not Bertholdier? It was his employee, not theSurete’s!”
“That was the lapse,” said the Britisher. “No onerealised instructions to that effect had been left atthe hospital desk apparently by an inspectornamed Prudhomme, who was awakened and told ofthe man’s death.”
“And he was the one who called in Interpol?”
“”Yes, but too late to intercept Converse atGerman immigration. “
" For which we can be profoundly grateful,” saidthe man, lowering his voice.
"Normally, of course, the hospital would havewaited and reached Bertholdier in the morning,telling him what happened. As you say, the patientwas an employee, not a member of the family. Afterthat, undoubtedly the arrondissement police wouldhave been informed and finally the Surete. By thenour people would have been in place and fullycapable of preventing Interpol’s involvement. We canstill stop them but it will take several days. Personneltransfers, new evidence, amendments to the case file;we need time.”
Then don’t waste any.”
" It was those damned instructions.”
“Which no one had the brains to look for,” saidthe man in front of the shadowed map. “ThisPrudhomme’s instincts were aroused. Too many richpeople, too much influence, the circumstances toobizarre. He smells something.”
“We’ll get him off the case, just a few days,” saidthe Englishman. “Converse is in Bonn, we know that.We’re closing in "t
“So possibly are Interpol and the German police.I don’t have to tell you how tragic that would be.”
“We have certain controls through the Americanembalm sy. The fugitive is American.”
“Thefugitive has information!” insisted the manbehind the desk, his fist clenched in the circle oflight. “How much and supplied by whom we don’tknow and we must know.”
“Nothing was learned in New York? The judge?”
“Only what Bertholdier suspected and what Iknew the moment I heard his name. After forty yearsAnstett came back, still hounding me, still wantingmy neck. The man was a bull, but only a go-between;he hated me as much as I hated him, and up to theend he shielded those behind him. Well he’s goneand his holy righteousness with him. The point isConverse is not what he pretends to be. Now, f ndhim!”
“As I say, we’re closing in. We have moresources, more informers than Interpol. He s anAmerican fugitive in Bonn who, we understand,doesn’t speak the language. There are only so manyplaces he can hide. We’ll find him; we ll break himand learn where he comes from. After which, we’llterminate immediately, of course.”
“No!” The sleek male cat again shrieked acrossthe frozen lake. “We play his game! We welcomehim, embrace him. In Paris he talked about Bonn,Tel Aviv, Johannesburg; therefore you’llaccommodate him. Bring him to LeifLelm evenbetter, have Leifhelm go to him. Fly in Abrahmsfrom Israel, Van Headmer from Africa, and, yes,Bertholdier from Paris. He obviously knows whothey are anyway. He claims ultimately to want acouncil meeting, to be a part of us. So we’ll hold aconference and listen to his lies. He’ll tell us morewith his lies than he can with the truth.”
"I really don’t understand.”
“Converse is a point, but only a point. He’sexploring, studying the forward terrain, trying tounderstand the tactical forces ahead of him. If hewere anything else, he’d deal directly throughlegitimate authorities and legitimate methods.There’d be no reason for him to use a false name orgive false information or to run away, forciblyovercoming a man he thinks is trying to stop him.He’s an infantry point who has certain informationbut doesn’t know where he�
��s going. Well, a pointcan be sucked into a trap, the advancing companyambushed. Oh, yes, we must give him hisconference!”
“I submit that’s extraordinarily dangerous. Hehas to know who recruited him, who gave him thenames, his sources. We can break him physically orchemically and get that information.”
“He probably doesn’t have it,” explained the manpatiently. “Infantry points are not privileged to knowcommand decisions; frankly, if they were, they mightturn back. We have to know more about thisConverse, and by six o’clock tonight I’ll have everyreport, every resume, every word ever written abouthim. There’s something here we can’t see.”
“We already know he’s resourceful,” said theBritisher. “From what we can piece together inParis, he’s considered an outstanding attorney. If hesees through us or gets away from us, it could becatastrophic. He will have met with our people,spoken with them.”
“Then once you find him don’t let him out ofyour sight. By tomorrow I’ll have otherinstruetions"r you.”
“Oh?”
“Those records that are being gathered from allover the country. For a man to do what Converse isdoing, he had to be manipulated very carefully, verythoroughly, a driving intensity instilled in him. It’sthe manipulators we have to find.
They’re not even who we think they are. I’ll be intouch tomorrow.”
George Marcus Delavane replaced the telephonein its cradle and slowly, awkwardly twisted his upperbody around in the chair. He gazed at the strange,fragmented map as the first light of dawn fired theeastern sky, its orange glow filling the windows.Then, with effort, his hands gripping the arms of thesteel chair, he pivoted himself around again, his eyeson the stark pool of light on the desk. He moved hishands to his waist and carefully, trembling,unbuttoned his dark-red velvet jacket, forcing hisgaze downward, ordering himself to observe theterrible truth once more. He stared past thefive-inch-wide leather strap that diagonally held himin place, now commanding his eyes to focus, toaccept with loathing what had been done to him.
There was nothing to see but the edge of thethick steel seat and, below it, the polished wood ofthe floor. The long, sturdy legs that had carried histrained, muscular body through battles in the snowand the mud, through triumphant parades in thesunlight, through ceremonies of honor and defiance,had been stolen from him. The doctors had told himthat his diseased legs were instruments of death thatwould kill the rest of him. He clenched his fists andpressed them slowly down on the desk, his throatfilled with a silent scream.
“Goddamn you, Converse, who do you think youareP” cried Connal Fitzpatrick, his voice low, furious,as he caught up with Joel, who was walking rapidlybetween the tall trees near the Alter Zoll.
“Someone who knew Avery Fowler as a boy andwatched a man named Press Halliday die a couple ofhundred years later in Geneva,’ replied Converse,quickening his pace heading toward the gates of thenational landmark where there were taxis.
“Don’t puff that crap on mel I knew Press far betterand
far longer than you ever did. For Christ’s sake, hewas married to my sister! We were close friends forfifteen years!”
“You sound like a kid playing one-upmanship. Getlost.”
Fitzpatrick rushed forward, pivoting in front ofJoel blocking him. “It’s true! Please, I can help, Iwant to help! I know the language: you don’t! I haveconnections here; you don’t.”
“You also have your own idea about a deadline,which I don’t. Get out of my way, sailor. "
“Come on,” pleaded the naval officer. I didn’t geteverything I wanted. Don’t crowd me out.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Fitzpatrick shifted his weight awkwardly. “You’vecome on strong before yourself, haven’t you,counselor?”
“Not if I didn’t know the circumstances.”
“Sometimes it’s a way of finding them out.”
“Not with me, it isn’t.”
“Then my error was in not knowing you; thecircumstances were beyond that scope. Withsomeone else it might have worked.”
“Now you’re talking tactics, but you meant it when yousaid "two days.’”
“You’re damned right I did,” agreed Connal,nodding. “Because I want whatever it is exposed, Iwant whoever it is to pay! I’m mad, Converse, I’mmad as hell. I don’t want this thing to linger and dieaway. The longer nothing is done the less peoplecare; you know that as well as I do and probablybetter. Have you ever tried to reopen an old case? Ihave with a few courts-martial where I thought thingshad been screwed up. Well, I learned something: thesystem doesn’t like it! You know why?”
“Yes I do,” said Joel. “There are too many newcases in the dockets, too many rewards in going afterthe current ones.”
“Bingo, counselor. Press deserves better than that.Meagen deserves better.”
“Yes, he does they do. But there’s acomplication that Press Halliday understood betterthan either of us. Put simply and cruelly his lifewasn’t terribly important compared with what he wasgoing after.”
“That’s pretty damned cruel,” said the officer..
“It’s very damned accurate,” said Converse. “Yourbrother-in-law would have wrestled you to the mat,burns and all,
for walking into this and trying to call the shots.Back off Commander. Go back to the funeral.”
“No. I want to come on board. I withdraw thedeadline.”
"4How considerate of you.”
“You call the shots,” said Fitzpatrick, noddingagain, exhaling in defeat. “I’ll do what you tell me todo.”
“Why?” asked Joel, their eyes locked.
The Navy lawyer did not flinch; he spoke simply.“Because Press trusted you. He said you were thebest.”
“Except for him,” Converse added, permitting hisexpression to relax slightly, with a hint of a smile.“All right, I believe you, but there are ground rules.You either accept them or, as you put it, on boardyou’re not.”
“Let’s hear them. I ll wince inside so you can’t seeit.”
“Yes,” agreed Joel, “you’ll wince. To begin with,I’ll tell you only what I think you have to know in agiven situation. Whatever you develop will be onyour own; that way it’s freewheeling, no way can youtip the evidence we’ve compiled.”
“That’s rough.”
“That’s the way it is. I’ll give you a name nowand then when I think it will open a door, but it willalways be a name you heard second or third hand.You’re inventive; figure out your own unidentifiablesources so as to protect yourself.”
“I’ve done that on quite a few waterfronts “
wohu heave? How good are you at playactin’g?”
“Never mind, I think you just answered that. Youdidn’t go down to those waterfronts in your dresswhites as a lieutenant commander.”
“Hell, no.”
“You’ll do.”
“You’ve got to tell me something.”
“I’ll give you an overview, a lot of abstractionsand a few facts. As we progress ii weprogress you’ll learn more. If you think you’ve putit together, tell me. That’s essential. We can’t riskblowing everything while you operate under wrongassumptions.”
“Who’s "we’?”
“I wish to hell I knew.”
“That’s comforting.”
“Yes, isn’t it.”
“Why don’t you tell me everything now?” askedfitzpatrick.
“Because Meagen Halliday lost a husband. Idon’t want to see her lose a brother.”
“I’ll accept that.”
“By the way, how long have you got? I meanyou’re on active duty.”
“My initial leave is thirty days, with extensions aswarranted. Christ, an only sister with five kids andher husband is killed. I could probably write myown ticket.”
“We’ll stick to the thirty days, Commander. It’smore than we’re allowed. We may not have eventwo weeks.”
“Start talking, Converse.”
“Let’s walk,” said Joel, heading back to the AlterZoll wall and
the view of the Rhine below.
The “overview” delivered by Converse describeda current situation in which like-minded individualsin various countries were coming together and usingtheir considerable influence to get around the lawsand ship armaments and technology to hostilegovernments and organisations.
“For what purpose?” asked Fitzpatrick.
“I could say ”profits,’ but you’d see through it.”
“As the only motive, yes,” said the Navy lawyerpensively. “Influential people as I understand theword "influential’ as related to existing laws wouldoperate singly or at best in small groups within theirown countries. That is, if profits were the primaryobjective. They wouldn’t coordinate outside; it isn’tnecessary. It’s a sellers’ market; they’d only waterdown the profits.”
“Bingo, counselor.”
“So?” Fitzpatrick looked at Joel, as they strolledtoward a break in the stone wall where a bronzedcannon was in place.
“Destabilization,” said Converse. “Massdestabilisation. A series of flash points in highlyvolatile areas that will call into question the abilityof democratic governments to cope with theviolence.”
“I’ve got to ask you again, for what purpose?”
“You’re quick,” said Joel, “so I’ll let you answerthat. What happens when an existing politicalstructure is crippled by disorder, when it can nolonger function, when things are out of control?”
The two men stopped by the cannon, the navalofficer’s eyes following the line of the huge,threatening barrel. “It’s
restructured or replaced,” he said, turning to look atConverse.
“Bingo again,” said Converse softly. “That’s theoverview.”
“It doesn’t make sense.” Fitzpatrick creased hiseyes in the sunlight, as well as in thought. “Let merecap. Am I allowed?”
“You’re allowed.”
” "Influential individuals’ connotes people inpretty good standing in very high places. Assumingwe’re not talking about an out-and-out criminalelement which the lack of a pure profit motivewould seem to eliminate we’re talking aboutreasonably respectable citizens. Is there anotherdefinition I’m not aware of?”
The Aquaintaine Progession Page 22
