The Apocalypse Watch (55 page)

“You’re so full of bullshit, you could be a yellow
torero
. Stick with the uniform and the blond hair for another day; we’ve got you watched like a Derby racehorse. I’ll explain to the hotel brass that you’re a couple of computer freaks we can’t stand but have been ordered to use.” The colloquy had ended testily; Stanley Witkowski did not like being outflanked.

It was late afternoon and Latham was seated at the desk, reading the transcript of his older brother’s debriefing in London after his escape from the Brüderschaft valley. Karin had suggested he request it; there were too many mounting questions about Harry Latham’s list. “It’s right here,” said Drew, underlining words on a page. “Harry never claimed the names were written in cement.… Listen to this. ‘… I brought out the material, it’s your job to evaluate it.’ ”

“Then he had doubts himself?” asked Karin, sitting on the couch in the suite’s living room and lowering the newspaper in her hand.

“No, not really, but he allowed for the outside possibility, not a probability. When it was suggested that he might have been ‘fed dirt,’ he was mad as hell. Here. ‘… Why
would
they? I was a major contributor to their cause. They
believed
me!’ ”

“The same kind of anger he showed to me when I told him about the Brotherhood having a file on him.”

“He pounced on both of us for that. And right after,
when I asked him who Kroeger was, he said the words that’ll stay with me for the rest of my life.… ‘I don’t think I should tell you that, Alexander Lassiter can.’ He was two people, one moment himself, the next Lassiter. That’s
heavy
.”

“I know, my darling, but it’s over, he’s at peace.”

“I hope so, I really hope so. I’m not religious, as a matter of fact, I don’t like most religions. The violence done in their various names is about as God-like as Genghis Khan. But if death is the proverbial Big Sleep, I’ll settle for that, and so will Harry.”

“You never went to church as a child?”

“Sure. Mother’s an Indiana Presbyterian corrupted by academic New England, and therefore felt that Harry and I should attend regularly until we were sixteen. I made it to twelve, but Harry quit when he was ten.”

“Didn’t she protest?”

“Beth was never any good at conflicts, except where track and field events were concerned. There, she was a tiger.”

“What about your father?”

“Another piece of work.” Drew leaned back in the chair, smiling. “One Sunday, Mom had the flu and told Dad to drive us to church, forgetting that he had never been there. Naturally, he got lost, and Harry and I weren’t about to help him. Finally, he stopped the car and said, ‘Go on in there. It’s all pretty much the same, so hear it from somebody else.’ Only it wasn’t our church.”

“Well, it was at least
a
church.”

“Not exactly. It was a synagogue.” They both laughed as the telephone rang. Latham picked it up. “Yes?”

“It is I, Moreau.”

“Any word on your secretary? I mean, on who might have killed her?”

“Absolutely nothing. My wife is distraught; she’s making the arrangements. I shall never forgive myself for what I believed.”

“Get out from under the hairshirt,” said Drew. “It doesn’t help.”

“I know. Fortunately, I have other things to occupy me.
Our ambassador’s wife made her first move. About an hour ago she stopped at an expensive leather shop on the Champs-Élysées, dismissed her taxi, and then disappeared.”

“A leather shop?”

“Riding equipment, saddles, boots—they’re rather famous for their boots.”

“A
bootmaker
?”

“Yes, you could say that—”

“
That
was one of the items we found on the neo who tried to blow my head off!” interrupted Latham. “A repair receipt in the name of André.”

“Where is this receipt?”

“Witkowski’s got it.”

“I’ll send someone over to pick it up.”

“I thought you didn’t like sending Deuxième people to the embassy.”

“It’s only annoying when questions are asked.”

“Then don’t bother. Stanley’s having a car brought over to take Karin to the doctor. I’ll tell him to give the receipt to the marine escort—
wait
a minute!” Drew snapped his head up in sudden thought, his eyes creased as a person does when trying desperately to remember something. “You said Courtland’s wife disappeared …?”

“She went in and never came out. My people think she was taken somewhere else; they found a delivery entrance in the rear with a small parking area. Why?”

“It’s probably a losing long shot, Claude, but there was something else on our Bois de Boulogne Nazi. A free pass for an amusement park on the outskirts of the city.”

“A strange item for such a man—”

“That’s what we thought,” Latham broke in. “We were going to check it out, along with the bootmaker’s, when that arsenal at the Avignon Warehouse went up in smoke. It sidetracked us.”

“You think she might have been driven there?”

“As I say, it’s a long shot, but as we both agree, a free pass to a fun house is a pretty strange ticket for a Nazi killer to keep buried in his wallet.”

“It’s certainly worth a try,” Moreau said.

“I’ll reach Witkowski; he’ll be sending the car for Karin soon. When it gets here, I’ll have the receipt and the pass. In the meantime, you order up one of your fancy vehicles and wait for me at the side entrance of the hotel.”

“It is done. Have you a weapon?”

“Two. I didn’t give Stanley’s sergeant Alan Reynolds’s automatic last night. He was so pissed off at me for going out, I thought he’d wear gloves, shoot me, and say Reynolds did it.”

“Good thinking. One of my people probably would have.
A bientôt
.”

“Make it soon.” Drew hung up the phone and looked over at Karin, who was now standing in front of the couch, her expression none too pleasant. “I’m calling our colonel, want to say hello?”

“No, I want to go with you.”

“Come
on
, lady, you’re going to the doctor’s. You think you fooled me last night, but you didn’t. You got up and went to the bathroom, and you were there a hell of a long time. I turned on the light and saw the blood around your pillow. Later I found the bandage in the wastebasket. Your hand was bleeding.”

“It was nothing—”

“Let the doctor tell me that. And if it’s true, why is your right arm bent at the elbow so your hand is across your chest, somewhat ignoring gravity? Are you in the middle of a benediction, or would you rather not have the bandage soiled again?”

“You’re very observant, you bastard.”

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Only in spasms, and only now and then. You’re probably responsible.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said in quite a while.” Latham got up from the desk; they crossed to each other and embraced. “My God, I’m glad I found you!”

“It’s a two-way street, my darling.”

“I wish I could say things better, say the things I feel. I haven’t had much practice, not in a genuine way—I guess that’s a dumb thing to say.”

“Not at all. You’re a grown man, not a monk. Kiss
me.” They kissed, long and sensuously, searching their swelling arousal. Quite naturally, the telephone rang. “Answer it, Officer Latham,” said Karin, gently disengaging herself and looking up into his eyes. “Someone’s rightfully trying to stop us. There’s work to do.”

“Did that uniform make me a general?” said Drew, now in civilian clothes. “If so, whoever it is, the son of a bitch is going to do fifty years in Leavenworth.” He walked to the desk and picked up the telephone. “Yes?”

“If you were
really
under my command,” said Colonel Stanley Witkowski harshly, “you’d be spending the rest of your life in Leavenworth for dereliction of duty!”

“Exactly my thoughts, but in the reverse. Only I’ve lost my rank temporarily.”

“Shut up. Moreau just reached me and asked if I’d talked to you about the amusement park.”

“I was just going to call you. I had an acid attack—”

“
Thank
you,” whispered De Vries.

“Cut the crap!” the colonel continued over the line. “The car’s on the way for Karin, and the sergeant has what you need. I think I should be with you boys, but Sorenson wants me to stick around. We’re trying to figure out how to make Courtland’s homecoming as easy as possible.”

“How did he take the news?”

“How would you if Karin turned out to be a neo?”

“Don’t even think it.”

“Courtland did better than that. He was shattered but convinced. Wesley’s an old-timer, like me. He doesn’t pull a put-around unless he has sufficient background confirmation to make it irresistible.”

“You speak a funny language, but I understand you.”

“The bottom line is that the ambassador’s going along with us. He’s going to play his part.”

“Better you should get the actor Villier. That’s going to be one hell of a ‘homecoming’ bed tomorrow night.”

“That’s what we’re working on. Courtland’s frightened to be alone with her. We’re orchestrating a series of late-night emergencies.”

“Not bad. With the cumulative jet lag, it might work.”

“It has to. How’s your friend?”

“She continually lies to me. Her hand hurts and she won’t admit it.”

“A real soldier.”

“A real idiot.”

“Our car will be there in ten minutes. Wait till the marines are inside, then take her out.”

“Will do.”

“Have a good hunt.”

“I don’t want a useless one.”

Latham, in gray trousers and a blazer, climbed into the backseat of the armored Deuxième car beside Moreau and handed him the bootmaker’s receipt and the pass for the amusement park.

“This is my associate—Jacques Bergeron—Jacques will do,” said the head of the Deuxième, gesturing at the man in the front passenger seat. Amenities were exchanged. “And I believe you’ve met our driver,” added Moreau as the agent behind the wheel angled his head around.

“
Bonjour
, monsieur.” It was the driver who had saved his life on the avenue Gabriel, the man who insisted he get in the car only seconds before a fusillade of bullets pocked the windshield.

“Your name’s François,” said Drew, “and I’ll never forget it
or
you. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t—”

“Yes, yes,” Moreau interrupted, cutting Latham off. “We’ve all read the report and François has been sufficiently commended. He took the rest of the day off to calm his nerves.”

“
C’est merde
,” said the driver under his breath as he started the car. “Is it the park we determined, Monsieur Director?” he continued courteously in English.

“Yes, beyond Issy-les-Moulineaux. How long will it take?”

“Once we reach the rue de Vaugirard, not long. Perhaps twenty minutes or so. It’s the traffic until then.”

“Don’t overburden yourself with city regulations, François. It would be advantageous if you did not run over or
crash into someone, but short of that, get us there as quickly as possible.”

What followed belonged on the crassest television show, wherein automobiles replaced characters and became roaring machines hell-bent on self-destruction. The Deuxième vehicle not only weaved perilously in and around the cars in front, but twice François swung up on relatively empty pavements to avoid minor congestions, scattering what pedestrians there were, who ran for their lives.

“We’re going to get arrested!” said an astonished Latham.

“It might be attempted, but we haven’t got time for that,” disagreed Moreau. “Our automobile is equipped with an engine superior to any police car in Paris. We could even put in use the siren, but it startles people and could actually cause accidents, which we cannot afford.”

“This guy’s nuts!”

“Among François’s talents is an extraordinary ability as a driver. I suspect that before he came to us he was what you Americans call ‘the wheels’ in bank robberies—that sort of thing.”

“I saw that a couple of days ago on the Gabriel.”

“So don’t complain.”

Thirty-two minutes later, the foreheads of Drew, Jacques, and even Moreau dripping with sweat from the wild drive, they reached le Pare de Joie, a tawdry alternative to Euro Disney, popular because it was French and inexpensive. In fact, it was a poor distant relation to Disney’s spectacle, more carnival than park, with grotesque, outsize cartoon figures above the various rides and side-shows, the dirt paths littered with debris. The screams of delight from the crowds of children, however, defined the equality with its grandiose American competition.

“There are two entrances, Monsieur Director,” said the driver. “One north and one south.”

“You know this place, François?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve taken my two daughters here several times. This is the north entrance.”

“Shall we use the pass and see what happens?” asked Drew.

“No,” replied the Deuxième chief. “That can come later if we think it will be helpful.… Jacques, you and François go in together, two fathers looking for your wives and children. Monsieur Latham and I will go in separately through different gates. Where would you suggest we meet, François?”

“There is a carousel in the center of the park. It’s usually crowded and the noise from the excited children and the calliope makes it ideal.”

“You both have studied the photograph of Madame Courtland, no?”

“Certainly.”

“Then split up inside and walk around, looking for her. Monsieur Latham and I will do the same, and we’ll meet at the carousel in half an hour. If either of you see her, use your radios and we’ll move up the rendezvous.”

“I don’t
have
a radio,” complained Drew.

“You do now,” said Moreau, reaching into his pocket.

Madame Courtland had been ushered into a small building at the south end of the seven-acre amusement park. The anteroom was a slovenly mess, garish old posters tacked on the walls in no particular order and without concern for symmetry. Two desks and a long, rickety buffet table were piled high with assorted multicolored flyers, many stained by coffee rings and cigarette ashes, while three employees labored over a mimeograph machine and several stencils. Two were overly made-up women in belly dancer costumes and a young male in a strangely ambiguous outfit—soiled orange tights and a blue blouse—his gender revealed by a scraggly beard. There were four small windows on the upper-front walls, too high for those outside to look through, and the clattering of an ancient air conditioner seemed to be in syncopation with the mimeograph.