The Aquitaine Progression (30 page)

“About what?”

“Influence.” Joel took out his cigarettes, shook one to his lips and lighted it. The younger man stared at the Seven Mountains of the Westerwald in the distance.

“They want
more
,” said Fitzgerald slowly, turning back to Converse.

“They want it all,” said Joel. “And the only way they can get it is to prove that their solutions are the only solutions, all others having proved worthless against the eruption of chaos suddenly everywhere.”

Connal’s expression was fixed, immobile, as he absorbed Converse’s words. “Holy
Mary
 …” he began, his voice a whisper, yet still a cry. “An international plebiscite—the peoples’ will—for the almighty state. Fascism. It’s multinational
fascism
.”

“I’m sick of saying ‘Bingo,’ so I’ll say ‘Right on,’ counselor. You’ve just said it better than any of us.”

“
Us
? Which is ‘
we
,’ but you don’t know who you are!” added Fitzpatrick, both bewildered and angry.

“Live with it,” said Joel. “As I have.”

“Why?”

“Avery Fowler. Remember him?”

“Oh,
Jesus
!”

“And an old man on the island of Mykonos. That’s all we have. But what they said is true. It’s real. I’ve seen it, and that’s all I need to know. In Geneva, Avery said there was very little time left. Beale refined it; he called it a countdown. Whatever’s going to happen will happen before your leave is up—two weeks and four days is the earliest report. That’s what I meant before.”

“Oh my God,” whispered Fitzpatrick. “What else can you tell me—
will
you tell me?”

“Very little.”

“The embassy,” Connal interrupted. “It’s been a couple of years, but I
was there
. I worked with the military attaché. I don’t need any introductions. We can get help there.”

“We can also get killed there.”

“What?”

“It’s not clean. Those three men you saw at the airport, the ones from the embassy—”

“What about them?”

“They’re on the other side.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Why do you think they were at the airport?”

“To meet you, talk to you. There could be a dozen different reasons. Whether you know it or not, you’re considered a hotshot lawyer on the international scene. Foreign service personnel frequently want to touch base with guys like you.”

“I’ve had this conversation before,” said Converse, irritated.

“What does
that
mean?”

“If they wanted to see me, why didn’t they go to the gate?”

“Because they thought you’d come into the terminal like everybody else.”

“And when I didn’t—according to you—they were upset, angry. That’s what you said.”

“They were.”

“All the more reason to meet me at the gate.”

Fitzpatrick frowned. “Still, that’s kind of flimsy—”

“The woman. Do you remember the woman?”

“Of course.”

“She spotted me in Copenhagen. She followed me. Also, there’s something else. Later, on the platform, all four were picked up by a car belonging to a man we know—we
know
—is part of everything I’ve described to you. They drove to
the embassy, and you’ll have to take my word for that. I saw them.”

Connal fixed his gaze on Joel, accepting what he had heard. “Oh,
Jesus
,” he said. “Okay, no embassy. What about Brussels, SHAPE? There’s a Navy intelligence unit; I’ve dealt with those people before.”

“Not yet. Maybe not at all.”

“I thought you wanted to use the uniform, my connections.”

“Maybe I will. It’s nice to know they’re there.”

“Well, what do you want me to do? I’ve got to do
something
.”

“Are you really fluent in German?”

“
Hochdeutsch, Schwäbisch, Bayerisch
, and several dialects in between. I told you, I can handle five languages—”

“You’ve made it obnoxiously clear,” interrupted Converse. “There’s a woman named Fishbein here in Bonn. That’s the first name I’m going to give you. She’s involved; we’re not sure how, but she’s suspected of being a conduit—a relayer of information. I want you to meet her, talk with her, establish a relationship. We’ll have to think of something that’ll be convincing in order for you to do it. She’s in her forties, and she’s the youngest daughter of Hermann Göring. She married a survivor of the holocaust for obvious reasons; he’s long gone. Any ideas?”

“Sure,” said Fitzpatrick without hesitating. “Inheritance. There are a couple of thousand last wills and testaments every year that the deceased want processed through the military. They’re from crazies who leave everything they’ve got to the
other
survivors. The true Aryan Germanic stock and all that horseshit. We bounce them back to the civil courts, which don’t know what to do with them, so they end up in limbo and eventually in the Treasury Department’s coffers.”

“No kidding?”

“
Eins, zwei, drei
. Believe me, those people mean it.”

“Can you use the device?”

“How about a million-plus legacy from a small Midwest brewer of lager beer?”

“You’ll do,” said Joel. “You’re on board.”

Converse did not mention Aquitaine or George Marcus Delavane or Jacques-Louis Bertholdier or Erich Leifhelm, or twenty-odd names at the State Department and the Pentagon. Nor did he describe the network as it appeared in the dossiers, or as described by Dr. Edward Beale on Mykonos.
He gave Connal Fitzpatrick the barest bones of the body of information. Joel’s reasoning was far less benign than he had stated: if the Navy lawyer was taken and interrogated—no matter how brutally—there was little of substance he could reveal.

“You’re not really telling me a hell of a lot,” said Fitzpatrick.

“I’ve told you enough to get your head blown off, and that’s not a phrase normally in my lexicon.”

“Nor mine.”

“Then consider me a nice fellow,” said Converse, as the two men headed for the entrance gate of the Alter Zoll.

“On the other hand,” continued Halliday’s brother-in-law, “you’ve been through a lot more than I ever have. I read that stuff about you in the security files—files, not file—they were cross-correlated with the files of a lot of other prisoners. You were something else. According to most of the men in those camps, you held them together—until they put you into solitary.”

“They were wrong, sailor. I was shaking and scared to death and would have fucked a Peking duck to save my skin.”

“That’s not what the files say. They say—”

“I’m really not interested, Commander,” said Joel as they passed through the ornate gate, “but I’ve got an immediate problem you can help solve.”

“What is it?”

“I gave my word I’d call Dowling on some mobile phone line. I wouldn’t know how to ask for it.”

“There’s a booth over there,” said Connal, pointing to a white plastic bubble that protruded from a concrete pylon on the pavement abutting the drive. “Do you have the number?”

“It’s here somewhere,” replied Converse, rummaging through various pockets. “Here it is,” he said as he separated the scrap of paper from several credit-card charges.

“
Vermittlung, bitte
.” The naval officer sounded authentic as he spoke crisply into the telephone. “
Sieben, drei, vier, zwei, zwei. Bitte, Fräulein
.” Fitzpatrick then inserted a series of coins into the metal box and turned to Joel. “Here you are. They’re ringing.”

“Stay there. Ask for him—say it’s his lawyer calling, the one at the hotel.”

“
Guten Tag, Fräulein. Ist Herr
—Oh, no, I speak English. Do you speak English? No, I’m not calling from California, but it’s an emergency.… Dowling, I have to reach—”

“
Caleb
,” said Joel quickly.

“Caleb Dowling.” The Navy man covered the mouthpiece. “What kind of name is that?”

“Something to do with Gucci shoes.”

“What?… 
Ja
—yes, thanks.” Fitzpatrick handed the phone to Converse. “They’re getting him.”

“Joe?”

“Yes, Cal. I said I’d call you after I met with Fowler. Everything’s okay.”

“No, it’s not, Mr. Lawyer,” said the actor quietly. “You and I had better have a very serious talk, and I don’t mind telling you a hunk of beef named Rosenberg will be just a few feet away.”

“I don’t understand.”

“A man died in Paris. Does that clear things up for you?”

“Oh,
God
.” Converse felt the blood draining from his head and a hollowness in his throat. For a moment he thought he was going to be sick. “They came to you?” he whispered.

“A man from the German police a little over an hour ago, and this time I didn’t have any doubts about my visitor. He was the real item.”

“I don’t know what to say,” stammered Joel.

“Did you do it?”

“I … I guess I did.” Converse stared at the telephone dial, seeing the bloodied face of the man in the alleyway, feeling the blood on his own fingers.

“You
guess
? That’s not something you guess about.”

“Then yes.… The answer is yes. I did it.”

“Did you have a reason?”

“I thought I did.”

“I want to hear it, but not now. I’ll tell you where to meet me.”

“No!” exclaimed Joel, confused but emphatic. “I can’t involve you. You can’t be involved!”

“This fellow gave me a card and wants me to call him if you got in touch with me. He was very specific about withholding information, how it’s considered aiding a fugitive.”

“He was right,
absolutely
right! For God’s sake, tell him everything, Cal! The truth. You got me a room for the night because you thought I might not have a reservation and we had a pleasant few hours on the plane. You put it in your name because you didn’t want me to pay. Don’t hide
anything
! Not even this call.”

“Why didn’t I tell him before?”

“That’s all right, you’re telling him now. It was a shock and I’m a fellow American and you’re in a foreign country. You wanted time to think, to reflect. My phone call shook you into behaving rationally. Tell him you confronted me with the accusation and I didn’t deny it. Be honest with him, Cal.”

“How honest? Should I include my session with Fowler?”

“That’s all right, too, but it’s not necessary. Let me back up and clarify. Fowler’s a false name and he’s not relevant to Paris, I give you my word. Bringing him in is only volunteering an unnecessary complication.”

“Should I tell him you’re at the Alter Zoll?”

“It’s where I’m calling you from. I just admitted it.”

“You won’t be able to go back to the Königshof.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Joel, speaking rapidly, wanting to get off the phone and start thinking. “My luggage is at the airport and I can’t go back there either.”

“You had a briefcase.”

“I’ve taken care of that. It’s where I can get it.”

The actor paused, then spoke slowly. “So your advice to me is to level with the police, to tell them the truth.”

“Without volunteering extraneous and unrelated material. Yes, that’s my advice, Cal. It’s the way you can stay clean and you
are
clean.”

“It sounds like fine advice, Joe—Joel, and I certainly wish I could take it, but I’m afraid I can’t.”

“What?
Why
?”

“Because bad men like thieves and killers don’t give advice like that. It’s not in any script I ever read.”

“That’s nonsense! For Christ’s sake, do as I tell you!”

“Sorry, pardner, it’s not good dramaturgy. So you do as I tell
you
. There’s a big stone building at the university—beautiful place, a restored palace actually—with a layout of gardens you don’t see very often. They’re on the south side with benches here and there on the main path. It’s a nice place on a summer’s night, kind of out of the way and not too crowded. Be there at ten o’clock.”

“Cal, I won’t involve you in this!”

“I’m already involved. I’ve withheld information and I’ve aided a fugitive.” Dowling paused again. “There’s someone I want you to meet,” he said.

“No.”

There was a click and the line went dead.

Converse hung up the phone and braced himself on the sides of the plastic booth, trying to clear his head. He had killed a man, not in a war anyone knew about, and not in the heat of survival in a Southeast Asian jungle, but in a Paris alleyway because he had to make an instant decision based on probabilities. Rightly or wrongly the act had been done and he could not dwell on it. The German police were looking for him, which meant that Interpol had entered the picture, transmitting the information from Paris somehow supplied by Jacques-Louis Bertholdier, who remained out of sight, beyond the scope of the hunt. Joel recalled his own words spoken only minutes ago. If Press Halliday’s life was not terribly important compared with what he was going after, neither was the life of a minion who worked for Bertholdier, Delavane’s disciple, Aquitaine’s arm in France. There were no options, thought Converse. He had to go on; he had to stay free.

“What’s the matter?” asked Fitzpatrick, standing anxiously near him. “You look like you got kicked by a mule.”

“I got kicked,” agreed Converse.

“What happened to Dowling? Is he in trouble?”

“He
will
be!” exploded Joel. “Because he’s a misguided idiot who thinks he’s in some kind of goddamned movie!”

“That wasn’t your opinion a little while ago.”

“We met; it came out all right. This can’t, not for him.” Converse pushed himself away from the booth and looked at the Navy lawyer, his mind now trying desperately to concentrate on the immediate. “I may tell you and I may not,” he said, glancing around for an available taxi. “Come on, we’re going to put your awesome linguistic abilities to work. We need shelter, expensive but not showy, especially
not
a place where the well-heeled tourists go who don’t speak German. If there’s one thing they’ll spread about me, it’s that I can’t talk my way through the five boroughs of New York. I want
a rich hotel that doesn’t need foreigners, doesn’t cater to them. Do you know the kind of place I mean?”