she had been far more Specific.. She had said “my
only darling.” Was it a response corn of the panic?
Not knowing was the worst of it, thought
Converse, tudying the road signs in the wash of the
headlights. He had Steen driving for nearly seven
hours after picking up a map in the city of Hagen
while refilling the tank seven hours, and according
to the map he was still a long way from the border
crossing he had chosen. The reason lay in his
ignorance, in not knowing whether Hermione
Geyner’s car had been the object of a search in the
first few hours out of Osnabruck. It undoubtedly was
now officially by the police but during those sarly
hours he could have made better time on the
highways he dared not use in case Aquitaine had
raced to Geyner’s house with Val’s call. He had
traveled circuitous backcountry ~roads, his pilot’s
eye on the sun, veering always south until he reached
Hagen. Now the back roads were a necessity;
whether they were before he would never know.
Now, however, Hermione Geyner and her band of
lunatics must have gone to the police to report her
stolen car. Joel had no idea what they could possibly
say that would convince the Polizei that Valerie’s
aunt was an injured party, but a stolen car was a
stolen car, whether driven by Saint Francis of Assisi
or Jack the Ripper. He would stay on the back roads.
Lennestadt to Kreuztal, crossing the Rhine at
Bendorf and following the west bank of the river
through Koblenz, Oberwesel, and Bingen, then south
to Neustadt and east to
572 ROBERT IUDLUM
Speyerand the Rhine again. And again south
through the bor der towns of Alsace-Lorraine, finally
to the city of Kehl. It we’ where he would cross into
France, a decision based on the fact that several
years agoJohn Brooks had sent him to Strasbourg
the French city across the river border, to a terribly
dull con ference at which eight lawyers argued so
continuously wit! each other over minor aspects of
language and translation that nothing of substance
was accomplished. As a result, Joe had walked the
city and driven out to the countryside, awec by its
beauty. He had taken several boat trips up and down
the Rhine, and now he remembered the ferries that
shuttle: back and forth between the piers of
Germany and France Above all, he remembered the
crowds in Strasbourg. Always the crowds had helped
him he needed them especially now
It would take another three to four hours of
driving, but somewhere he would have to stop and
sleep for a while. He was exhausted; he had not
slept for so long he could not accu rately remember
when he had last closed his eyes. But there was
Chamonix and Val ahead. He had told her he loved
her he had said it. He had gotten it out after so
many years: the relief was incredible, but the
response even more incredi” ble. “My darling my
only darling.” Did she mean it? Or was she
supporting him again, the artist’s emotions riding
over reason and experience?
Aquitaine! Push everything out of your mind and
get into Francet
The polar flight from Los Angeles to Paris was
uneventful, the moonscapes of ice over the
northernmost regions of, the world hypnotically
peaceful, suspending thought by the sheer expanse
of their cold infinity. Nothing seemed to matter to
Val as she looked down from the substratosphere.
But what’ ever tranquility the flight produced, it
came to an end in Paris.
“Are you in France on business or on holiday,
madame?” asked the immigration official, taking
Valerie’s passport and typing her name into the
computer.
“En pen de l’un et de l’autre.”
“Vous parley franpais?”
“C’est ma lance preferee. Mes parentsetaient
parisiens, ” explained Val, and continued in French,
“I’m an artist and I’ll be talking with several
galleries. Naturally, I’ll want to travel ” She
stopped, seeing the ofllcial’s eyes glance up
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 573
from his screen, studying her. “Is anything the
matter? ‘ she asked.
“Nothing of concern, madame,” said the man,
picking up his telephone and talking in a low voice,
the words indishnguishable in the hum of the huge
customs hall. “There is someone who wishes to speak
with you.”
“That’s of considerable concern to me, ” objected
Valerie frightened. “I’m not travelingunder my own
name for a very good reason which I suspect that
machine of yours has told you, and I will not be
subjected to interrogations or the indignity of the
press! I’ve said all I have to say. Please reach the
American embassy for me.”
‘ There is no need for that, madame,” said the
man, replacing the phone. “It is not an interrogation
and no one of the press will know you are in Paris
unless you tell them. Also there is nothing in this
machine but the name on your passport and a
request.”
A second uniformed official hurriedly entered the
roped-offaisle from a nearby office. He bowed
politely. “If you will come with me, madame,” he said
quietly in English, obviously noticing the fear in her
eyes and assuming her reluctance. “You may, of
course, refuse, as this is in no way official but I hope
you will not. It is a favor between old friends.”
“Who are you?”
“Chief inspector of immigrations, madame.”
“And who wishes to speak with me?”
“It would be up to him to tell you that his name
does not appear on the request. However, I’m to
give you another name. Mathlon. He says you two
were old friends and he respected him a great deal.”
“Mamlon?”
“If you will be so kind as to wait in my office, I
will personally clear your luggage.”
“This is my luggage,” said Val, her thoughts on
someone who would bring up Rene’s name. “I’ll want
a police officer nearby, one who can watch through
a glass door.”
“PourquoiP. . . Why, madame?”
“One mesure de surety, ” replied Valerie.
“Out, bier sur, mais ce n’est pas necessaire.”
‘7’insiste ou je pars. ”
“D’accord. ”
It was explained that the person who wished to
speak with her was driving out to De Gaulle Airport
from the center
574 ROBERT LUDLUM
of Paris; it would take thirty-five minutes. Waiting,
she had coffee and a small glass of Calvados. The
man walked through the door. Of late middle age,
he was dressed in rumpled clothing, as if his
appearance did not matter any longer. His face
seemed lined as much from weariness as from age,
and when he spoke his voice was tired but
nevertheless precise.
“I will keep you but a few minutes, madame. I’m
sure you have places to go, people to see.”
“As I explained,” said Val, looking hard at the
Frenchman, “I’m in Paris to talk with several
galleries ”
“That is no concern of mine,” interrupted the
man, holding up his hands. “Forgive me, I do not
care to hear. I care to hear nothing unless madame
wishes to speak after I’ve spoken to her.”
– “Why did you use the name of Mattilon?”
“An introduction. You were friends. May I go
back before Monsieur Mattilon?”
“Go back by all means.”
“My name is Prudhomme. I am with the Surete.
A man died in a hospital here in Paris several weeks
ago. It is said your former husband, Monsieur
Converse, was responsible.”
“I’m aware of that.”
“It was not possible,” said the Frenchman calmly,
sitting down and taking out a cigarette. “Have no
fear, this office is not ‘tapped’ or ‘bugged.’ The chief
inspector and I go back to the Resistance.”
“That man died after a brutal fight with my
former husband,” said Val cautiously. “I read it in
the newspapers, heard it on the radio. Yet you’re
telling me he wasn’t responsible for his death. How
can you say that?”
“The man did not die in the hospital, he was
killed. Between two-fifteen and two-forty-five in the
morning. Your husband was on a flight from
Copenhagen to Hamburg during those hours. It has
been established.”
“You know this),”
“Not officially, madame. I was removed from the
case. A subordinate, a man with little police
experience but with the Army later in the Foreign
Legion, no less was given the assignment while I
was shifted to more ‘important’ matters. I asked
questions; I will not bore you with details, but the
man’s lungs collapsed a sudden trauma unrelated
to his wounds. The man was suffocated. It was not
in the report. It was removed.”
576 ROBERT LUDLUM
“I gather that. It’s Stone.”
“Mah wand, the Tatiana re-route!” exclaimed the
Southerner. “Someday you must tell me about this
here fascinatin’ family of yours, Brer Rabbit.”
‘ Someday I will.”
“I seem to recollect having heard the name
somewheres around the late sixties, but I didn’t
know what it meant.”
“Trust whoever used it.”
“Why should I do that?”