“You heard the man. Go smoke a cigan”
Mario looked both hostile and confused as he trudged slowly toward the
staircase. Stockton spoke.
“What do you want me to do? I told you, I don!t want trouble.*
“Were aU going to have trouble unless I reach a few delegates. That’s what
Wheeling was telling me.*
“What do you mean. . . delegatesr
“The meeting over at Carlyle. The conference with our people and the Nunrod
organization.”
aRA Robelt LUCUUM
T
7f`hafs not my affairl” Stockton spat out the words. 01 doift know a thing
about thatl”
*Tm. sure you d&t, you weren’t meant to. But now it concerns all of us….
Sometimes rules have to be broken; this is one of those times. Nimro&s gone
too far, thaes all I can tell you.”
‘You tell im? I live with those preacherst I parlay with them, and when I
complain, you know what our own people say? They say, That’s the way it Is,
old Howie, we all do businessl What ldnd of talk is that? Why do I have to
do business with them?”
‘Perhaps you won’t much longer. Thars why I have to reach some of the
others. The delegates.”
Mey doet include me in those meetings. I don’t ](now anyone-a
“Of course you don!t. Again, you weredt meant to. The conference is heavy;
very heavy and very quiet So quiet we may have screwed ourselves: we doet
know who’s in the area. From what organization; from what family? But I
have my orders. Weve got tD get through to-one or two.’
‘I caet help YOU.”
Matlock looked harshly at the southerner. “I think you can- Listen to me.
In the morning, get on the phone and pass the word. Careftdlyl We don’t
want panic. Doet talk to anyone you doet know and don’t use my namel just
say you’ve met someone who has the Corsican paper, the silver Corsican
paper. Hes got to meet quietly with someone else who has it, too. Well
start with one person if we have to. Have you got that?”
“I got it but I doet like itl les none of my busi-
WMr
Would you rather close down? Would you rather lose this magnificent relic
of yours and stare out of a
TIRE MATLOCK PAM 265
cell window for ten or twenty years? I understand prison funerals are very
touching.*
All rightl . . . All right. IT call my bag boy. Ill say I doet know
nothin.1 I’m just passie along a message- 0
*Uood enough. If you make a contact, tell whoever It is that I’ll be ~t the
Sail and Ski tonight or tomormw. Tell him to bring the paper. I woet talk
to anyone without the paperl”
‘Without the paper … ”
“Now let me have my keys.”
Stockton called Mario back. Matlock got his keys.
He swung south on Route 72 out of Mount Holly. He didn’t remember precisely
where, but he knew hed passed several highway telephone booths on his way
up from Hartford. It was funny how he was begixining to notice pubhe
telephones, his only connecting link with solidity. Everything else was
transient, hit or miss, unfamiliar and frightening. He’d phone Greenberg as
Charger Three-zero requested, but before he did, he was going to reach one
of Blackstones inen.
A rendezvous would have to be arranged immediately. He now had to have the
Corsican paper. He’d put out the word; he’d have to keep his end of the
bargain or he would learn nothing. rf Stockton’s message got through and if
someone did make contact that someone would kill or be killed before
breaking the oath of -OmmW unless Matlock produced the
paper.
Or was it all for nothing? Was he the amateur Kressel and Greenberg said be
was? He didnt know. He tried so hard to think things through, look at all
sides of every action, use the tools of his trained, aca-
2ffi Robert Ludluin
demic imagination. But was it enough? Or was ft possible that his sense of
commitment, his violent feelings of vengeance and disgust were only turning
him tnto a Quixote?
If that were so, hed live with it H6d do his goddamnedest and live with it
He had good reasons-a brother named David; a girl named Pat, a gentle old
man named Lucas; a nice fellow named Loring; a confused, terrified student
from Madison named Jeannie. The sickening whole scenel
Matlock found a booth on a deserted stretch of Route 72 and called the
inanimate receiver at the other end of 555-6868. He gave the number of the
telephone booth and waited for Charger Three-zero to answer his call.
A milk track lumbered by. The driver was singing and waved to Matlock
Several minutes later a huge Allied Van Lines sped past, and shortly after
a produce truck. It was nearing five thirty, and the day was brightening
Brightemng to a dull gray, for there were rain clouds in the sky.
The telephone rang.
“Hellolm
“What’s the problem, sirP Did you reach your friend in West Virginia? He
said he’s not kidding anymore.*
“I’ll call him in a few minutes. Are you the fellow named Cliff?” Matlock
knew it was not, the voice was different
.’ No, sir. rm Jim. Same name as yours.*
“All right, Jim. Tell me, did the other fellow do what I asked him to? Did
he get the paper for me?’
“Yes, sir. If ifs the one on silver paper, written in Italian. I think ies
Italian.”
“That’s the one. . . .”
Matlock arranged for the pickup in two hours. it
TEZ MATLOCK PAP= 267
was agreed that the Blackstone man named Cliff meet him at an all-night
diner on Scofield Avenue near the West Hartford town line. Charger
Three-zero inSisted that the delivery be made rapidly, in the parkIng IOL
Matlock described thq car he was driving andhung up the phone.
The next call would have to be Jason Greenberg in Vv%eeling. And Greenberg
was furious.
‘Schniuck! It 1=1 bad enough you break your word, you~ve got tDhire your
own armyl What the hell do you think those clowns can do that the United
States Government can’t?”
“llose clowns are costing me three hundred dollars a day, Jason. They’d
better be good.-
OYou ran outl Why did you do that? You gave me your word you wouldn’t. You
said you~d work with our manf”
“Your man gave me an ultimatum I couldn’t live withl And if it was your
idea, III tell you the same thing I told Houston.”
“What does that mean? What ultimatumPo
‘You know goddanin welll Don’t play that game. And you listen to me. . . .”
Matlock took a break be-
fore plunging into the lie, giving it all the authority he could summon.
“There’s a lwayer in Hartford who has a very precise letter signed by me.
Along the same lines as the letter I signed for you. Only the informatioes
a bit different: ifs straight. it describes in detail the story of my
recruitment, how you bastards sucked me in and then how you let me hang. How
you forced me to sign a lie…. You try anything, hell release it and
there’ll be a lot of embarrassed manipulators at the justice Departrnent .
. . You gave me the idea, Jason. It was a damn good idea. It might even make
a few militants decide to tear
268 Robert Ludlum
up the Cadyle campus. Maybe launch a string of nots, with luck, right across
the country. The academic scenes ready to be primed out of its dormancy.,
iset that what Seaffont sead? Only this time it woet be the war or the draft
or drugs. They’ll find a better 1”: government infiltration, police state.
. . Gestapo tactics. Are you prepared for thatr
“For Chrises sake, cut it outl It woet do you any good. Yoere not that
important. . . . Now, what the hell are you talking about? I briefed hind
There wereret any conditions except that you keep hun Informed of what you
were doing.”
OBullshid I waset to leave the campus; I wasn’t to talk to anyone on the
faculty or the staff. I was re. stricted to student inqumes, and I gathered
tbose were to be cleared firsW Outside of those minor restrictions, I was
free as a birdl Come onl You sav Patl You saw what they did to her. You
know what else they did-the word is rape, Greenbergl Did you people expect
me to thank Houston for being so wbderstandingr
“Believe me6* said Greenberg softly, in anger. “Ilose conditions were added
after the briefing. They should have told me, that’s true. But they were
added for your own protection. You can see that, caZt you?*
11jey weren!t part of our bargainf”
‘N% they weren% And they should have told me….
“Also, I wonder whose protection they were concerned with. Mine or theirs.”
“A good question. They should have told me. They caet delegate