“I don’t speak German.”
“Actually, it’s an old Spanish saying. Mi casa, sucasa. "My house is your house.’ Your comfort andwell-being are my most urgent concerns.”
“Mine, too,” said Joel, rising. “I wouldn’t think ofhaving anyone accompany me, or follow me. It’d becounterproductive. Of course, I’ll inform my clientas to my whereabouts telling him approximatelywhen he can expect my subsequent call. He’ll beanxious to hear from me.”
“I should think so.” Leifhelm and Conversewalked to the door; the German turned and oncemore offered his hand. “Until tomorrow, then. Andmay I again suggest while you’re here that you becareful, at least for several days.”
“I understand.”
The puppets in New York. The killing that had totee deals with the first of two obstacles, two sharp,sickening aches … his chat.
“By the way,” said Joel, releasing the fieldmarshal’s hand. “There was a news item on the BBCthis morning that interested me EO much that Iphoned an associate. A man was killed in NewYork, a judge. They say it was a revenge killing,
a contract put out by organised. Did you happen tohear anything about it?”
“Id” asked Leithelm, his blond-white eyebrowsraised, his warlike lips parted. “It seems people arekilled by the dozens every day in New York, judgesincluded, I presume. Why should I know anythingabout it? The answer, obviously, is no.”
“I just wondered. Thank you.”
“But . . . but you. You must have a . . .”
“Yes, General?”
“Why does this judge interest you? Why did youthink I would know him?”
Converse smiled, but without a trace of humor.“I won’t be telling you anything when I tell you hewas our mutual adversary enemy, if you like.”
“Our? You really must explain yourselfl”
“As you and as I said, I am what I wantpeople to think I am. This man knew the truth. I’mon leave of absence from my firm, workingconfidentially for a personal client. He tried to stopme, tried to get the senior partner to cancel my leaveand call me back.”
“By giving him reasons?”
“No, just veiled threats of corruption andimpropriety. He wouldn’t go any further; he’s on thebench and couldn’t back it up; his own conductwould be suspect. My employer is completelyignorant angry as hell and confused but I’vecalmed him down. It’s a closed issue; the less it’sexplored, the better for us all.” Joel opened the doorfor Leifhelm. “Till tomorrow ” He paused for abrief moment, loathing the man standing in front ofhim but showing only respect in his eyes. “FieldMarshal,” he added.
“Gate Nacht,” said Erich Leifhelm, nodding hishead sharply once in military acknowledgment.
Converse persuaded the switchboard operator tosend someone into the dining room for theAmerican, Commander Fitzpatrick. The task offinding the naval officer was not easy, for he was notin the dining room or the bar but outside on theSpanrsche Terrasse having a drink with friends,watching the Rhine at twilight.
“What goddamned friends?” demanded Joel overthe phone.
"just a couple I met out there. He’s a niceguy an executive type, pretty much into hisseventies, I think.”
“And she?” asked Converse, his lawyer’s antennastruck by a signal.
“Maybe thirty, forty years younger,” repliedConnal with less elaboration.
“Get up here, sailor!”
Fitzpatrick leaned forward on the couch, hiselbows on his knees, his expression a mixture ofconcern and astonishment as he looked over at Joel,who was smoking a cigarette in front of the openbalcony doors. “Let me run this again,” he saidwarily. “You want me to stop someone from gettingyour service record?”
“Not all of it, just part of it.”
“Who the hell do you think I am?”
“You did it for Avery for Press. You can do itfor me. You have tol”
“That’s backwards. I opened those files for him,I didn’t keep them closed.”
"Either way it’s control. You’ve got access; you’vegot a
“I’m here, not there. I can’t scissor somethingout you don’t like ten thousand miles away. Bereasonable!”
“Somebody can, somebody has tol It’s only ashort segment, and it’s got to be at the end. Thefinal interview.”
“An interview?” said Connal, startled, getting tohis feet. “In a service record? You mean some kindof operational report? Because if you do, itwouldn’t be “
“Not a report,” interrupted Converse, shaking hishead. “The discharge my discharge interview. Thatstuff Press Halliday quoted to me.”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute!” Fitzpatrick heldup his hands. “Are you referring to the remarksmade at your discharge hearing?”
“Yes, that’s it. The hearing!”
“Well, relax. They’re not part of your servicerecord, or anyone else’s.”
“Halliday had them Avery had theml I just toldyou, he quoted my words verbatim!” Joel walked toa table where there was an ashtray; he crushed outhis cigarette. “If they’re not part of the record, howdid he get them? How did you get them for him?”
“That’s different,” said Connal, obviouslyremembering as he spoke. “You were a POW, and alot of those hearings were put under a debriefingclassification, and I do mean classified. Even after allthese years, many of those sessions are still touchy.A lot of things were talked about that no one to thisday wants made public for everyone’s good, not justthe military’s.”
“But you got them! I heard my own words, goddamnill”
“Yes, I got them,” admitted the Navy lawyerwithout enthusiasm. “I got the transcript, and I’d bebusted to seaman third class if anyone knew about it.You see, I believed Press. He swore to me he neededit, needed everything. He couldn’t make anymistakes.”
“How did you do it? You weren’t even in SanDiego at the time, that’s what you saidl”
“By calling the vaults and using my legal-releasenumber to have a photostat made. I said it was aFour Zero emergency and I’d take responsibility. Thenext morning when the authorization came in bypouch for countersignature, I had the chief legalofficer at the base sign it with a lot of other things Itsimply got buried in the paper work.”
“But how did you know about it in the first place?”
“Selected POW records have flags on theirdischarge sheets.”
“Clarification, please?”
“Just what I said, flags. Small blue seals thatdenote additional information stilt held under tightsecurity. No flags, everything’s clean; but if there isone, that means there’s something else. I told Press,and he said he had to have whatever it was, so Iwent after it.”
“Then anyone else could, too.”
“No, not anyone. You need an officer with alegal-release number, and there aren’t that many ofus. Also there’s a minimum forty-eight-hour delay sothe material can be vetted. That’s almost always inthe area of weapons and technology data that stillmight be classified.”
“Forty“i’
“Spell it out.”
Joel turned aimlessly, shaking his head. “That’sfunny. I said the same thing to Avery. I said "Spellit out, Avery.’ . . . Sorry, his name was Press.”Converse turned back to the Navy lawyer, a militarylawyer with a mystifying military privilege called alegal-release number. “Listen to me and hear meclearly. A few minutes ago something happened thatI wasn’t sure would or could happen somethingyour brother-in-law was killed to prevent. Tomorrowat four o’clock in the afternoon I’m going to walkinto the midst of that group of men who’vecometogether to promote a kind of violence that’ll stunthis world, toppling governments, allowing thesesame men to step in and fill the voids. They’ll runthings
their way, shape the laws their way. One bigSupreme Court, each chair owned by a fanatic withspecific convictions as to who and what has valueand who and what doesn’t, and those who don’t cango to hell, no appeals on the agenda…. I’m going tomeet them Pace-to-face! I’m going to talk withthem, hear their words! I admit I’m the mostamateurish fox you’ve ever heard of in a chickencoop only, in this case it’s a vultures’ nest, and Imean the type that swoops down and tears the fleshoff your back with one pass. But I’ve got somethinggoing for me: I’m one hell of a good lawyer, and I’lllearn things they won’t know I’ve learned. Maybeenough to piece together a couple of cases that willblow it all apart blow them apart. I told you beforethat I rejected your deadline. I still reject it, butnow it doesn’t seem so out of the question.Certainly not two days, but perhaps not ten! Yousee, I thought I was going to have to fly to Tel Aviv,then Johannesburg. Prime everyone, frighten them.Now I don’t have to! We’ve already done it! They’recoming to me because they’re the ones who arefrightened now! They don’t know what to think, andthat means they’ve panicked.” Converse paused,sweat forming on his hairline; then he added, “Idon’t have to tell you what a good lawyer can dowith panicked hostile witnesses. The materials hecan collect for evidence.”
“Your plea’s accepted, counselor,” saidFitzpatrick, not without awe. “You’re convincing.Now, tell me why my intercession can help? Whatdoes it accomplish?”
“I want those men to think I’m one of them! Ican live with everything they can put together aboutme I’m not proud of it all; I’ve made mycompromises but I can’t live with that transcript ofmy discharge! Don’t you see? It’s whatAvery Press understood! I understand now. Heknew me
nearly twenty-five years ago, and when I think backwe were actually pretty damned good friends. Andno matter what happened to us individually, he wasbanking on the fact that I hadn’t really changed thatmuch, not in the deeper things. By the time we reachthe voting age we’re pretty well set, all of us. Thereal changes come later, much later, dictated by suchthings as acceptance or rejection and the state of ourwallets the prices we pay for our convictions, or tosupport our talents, defending success or explainingfailure. That transcript confirmed what Hallidaybelieved, at least enough to make him want to meetme, talk with me, and finally to recruit me. Only, hedid it finally by dying as I held his head. Icouldn’t walk away after that.”
Connal Fitzpatrick was silent as he walked out onthe balcony. He leaned over and gripped the railingas Converse watched him. Then he stood up, raisedboth his hands, and pulled back the sleeve of his leftwrist. “It’s twelve-fifteen in San Diego. No one inlegal goes to lunch before one o’clock; theCoronado’s bar doesn’t begin to jump until then.”
“Can you do it?”
“I can try,” said the naval officer, crossing throughthe French doors toward the telephone. “No, damnit, if you’ve got your times straight, I can do betterthan try, I can issue an order. That’s what rank’s allabout.”
The first five minutes were excruciating for Joel.There were delays on all overseas calls, but somehowthe hi-, trim, or quadri-lingual Fitzpatrick, speakingurgently, unctuously, in German, managed to getthrough, the word dringend repeated frequently.
“Lieutenant Senior Grade Remington, David.Legal Division, SAND PAC. This is an emergency,sailor, Commander Fitzpatrick calling. Break in ifthe lines are occupied.” Connal covered themouthpiece and turned to Converse. “If you’ll openmy suitcase, there’s a bottle of bourbon in themiddle.”
“I’ll open your suitcase, Commander.”
“Remington?… Hello, David, it’s Connal…. Yes,thanks very much, I’ll tell Meagen…. No, I’m not inSan Francisco, don’t call me there. But something’scome up I want you to handle, something on mycalendar that I didn’t get to. For openers, it’s a FourZero emergency. I’ll fill you in when I get back, butuntil I do you have to take care of it. Got a pencil?. . . There’s a POW service record under the nameof Converse, Joel, Lieutenant, one and a half stripes,Air Arm,
pilot carrier-based, Vietnam duty. He wasdischarged in the sixhes’ Fitzpatrick looked downat Converse, who held up his right hand and threefingers of his left “nineteen sixty-eight, to beexact.”Joel stepped forward, his spread right handstill raised, his left now showing only the indexfinger. “June of "68,” added the Navy lawyer,nodding. “Point of separation our old hometown,San Diego. Have you got all that? Read it back tome, please, David.”
Connal nodded sporadically, as he listened.“C-O-NV-E-R-S-E, that’s right…. June, "68, AirArm, pilot, Vietnam POW section, San Diegoseparation, that’s it, you’ve got it. Now here’s thewicket, David. This Converse’s SR is flag status; theflag pertains to his discharge hearing, no weaponsor high tech involved…. Listen carefully, David. It’smy understanding that there may be a requestpending accompanied by a legal-release code for thedischarge transcript. Under no circumstances is thattranscript to be released. The flag stays fixed andcan’t be removed by anyone without my authoriza-tion. And if the release has been processed it’ll stillbe within the forty-eight-hour vet-delay. Kill it.Understood?”
Again Fitzpatrick listened, but instead ofnodding, he shook his head. “No, not under anycircumstances. I don’t care if the secretaries ofState, Defense, and the Navy all sign a joint petitionon White House stationery, the answer is no. Ifanyone questions the decision, tell him I’mexercising my authority as Chief Legal Oflficer ofSAND PAC. There’s some goddamned article in the’shoals’ that says a station CLO can impoundmaterials on the basis of conceivably privileged in-formation relative to the security of the sector, etcetera, et cetera. I don’t recall the timeelement seventy-two hours or five days orsomething like that but find that statute. You mayneed it.’
Connal listened further, his brows creasing, hiseyes straying to Joel. He spoke slowly as Conversefelt the sickening ache again in his chest. “Wherecan you reach me . . . ?” said the naval officer,perplexed. Then suddenly he was no longerbewildered. “I take back what I said before, callMeagen in San Francisco. If I’m not with her andthe kids, she’ll know where to reach me…. Thanksagain, David. Sweep your decks and get right onthis, okay? Thanks . . . I’ll tell Meg. " Fitzpatrickhung up the phone and exhaled audibly. “There,” hesaid, slouched in relief, pushing his hand throughhis loose light-brown hair. “I’ll phone Meagen andgive her this num
her, tell her to say I’ve gone up to the Sonoma hills,if Reming ton calls Press had some property there.”
“Give her the telephone number,” said Joel, “butdon’t tell her anything else.”
“Don’t worry, she’s got enough on her mind. "The naval officer looked at Converse, frowning. “Ifyour hourly count is right, you’ve got your bme now.”
“My count’s all right. Is Lieutenant Remington?I mean that only in the sense that he wouldn’t letanyone override your order, would he?’
“Don’t mistake my officiousness where he’sconcerned,” replied Connal. “David isn’t easilypushed around. The reason I chose him and not oneof the four other senior lawyers in the department isthat he’s got a reputation for being a sUckler prick.He’ll find that statute and nail it to the forehead ofany four-striper who tries to countermand that order.I like Remington; he’s very useful. He scares the hellout of people.”
“We all have case partners like that. It’s calledthe good guy-bad guy routine.”
“David fits. He’s got an eye that keeps strayingto the right.” Fitzpatrick suddenly stood erect, hisbearing military. “I thought you were going to get thebourbon, Lieutenant?”
“Yes, sir, CommanderI” shot back Joel, headingfor fitzpatrick’s suitcase.
“And if I remember correctly, after you pour usa drink you’re going to tell me a story I want verymuch to hear.”
“Aye, aye, sir!” said Converse, lifting the suitcaseoff the floor and putting it on the couch. “And if Imay suggest, sir,” conUnuedJoel, “a room-servicedinner might be in order. I’m sure the Commanderneeds nourishment after his trying day at the wheel.”
/>
“Good thinking, Lieutenant. I’ll phone down tothe Em pfang. “
“Before calling your bookie, may I also suggestthat you first call your sister?”
“Oh, Christ, I forgot!”
Chaim Abrahms walked down the dark street inTel Aviv his stocky frame draped in his usual safarijacket, boots beneath his khaki trousers, and a beretcovering his nearly bald head. The beret was the onlyconcession he made to the night’s purpose; normallyhe enjoyed being recognised, accepUng the adulationwith well-rehearsed humility. In day
light, his head uncovered and held erect, andwearing his familiar jacket, he would acknowledgethe homage with a nod, his eyes boring in on hisfollowers.
“First a Jew!” was the phrase with which he wasalways greeted, whether in Tel Aviv or Jerusalem,in sections of Paris and most of New York.
The phrase had been born years ago when as ayoung terrorist for the Irgun he had beencondemned to death in absentia by the British forthe slaughter of a Palestinian village with the Arabcorpses put on display for Nakama! He had thenissued a cry heard around the world: “I am first aJew a son of Abraham! All else follows, and riversof blood will follow if the children of Abraham aredenied!”
The British, in 1948, not caring to createanother martyr commuted his sentence and gavehim a large moshav. Yet the acreage of thesettlement could not confine the militant sabre.Three wars had broken his agricultural shackles aswell as unleashing his ferocity and his brilliance inthe field. It was a brilliance developed and refinedthrough the early years of racing with a fugitive,fragmented army, for which the tactics of surprise,shock, hit and melt away were constant, when beingoutmanned and outgunned were the accepted oddsbut only victory was the acceptable outcome. Helater applied the strategies and the philosophy ofthose years to the ever-expanding war machine thatbecame the Army, Navy and Air Force of a mightyIsrael. Mars was in the heavens of Chaim Abrahm’svision and, the prophets aside, the god of war washis strength, his reason for being. From Ramat Avivto Har Hazeytim, from Rehovot to Masada of theNegev Nakama! was the cry. Retribution to theenemies of Abraham’s children!
The Aquaintaine Progession Page 26
