Ilse. And there is no way anyone could know about
you in other matters…. Very well, this evening then.
I’m dining at the Stei
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 305
genberger at nine o’clock. I’ll stop at the Schlosspark
at eight-fifteen or thereabouts. You can buy me a
gift with your shall we say ill-conceived new
riches.”
“I’ll meet you in the lobby.’
“My driver will accompany me.”
“Ach, bring twenty men!”
‘He’s worth twenty-five,” Leifhelm said.
Fitzpatrick sat in the chair in the small
conference room on the second floor of the hotel
and examined the gun, the manual of instructions on
his lap. He tried to match what the clerk had told
him to the diagrams and instructions, and was
satisfied that he knew enough. There were basic
similarities to the standard Navy issue Colt .45, the
only handgun he was familiar with, and the technical
information was extraneous to his needs. The
weapon he had purchased was a Heckler & Koch
PGS auto pistol, about six inches long its caliber
nine millimeters, and with a nine-shell magazine clip.
The instructions emphasized such points as
“polygonal rifling” and “sliding roller lock functions’;
he let the manual slip to the floor, and practiced
removing the clip and slapping it back into place. He
could load the weapon, aim it and fire it; those were
all that was necessary and he trusted the last would
not be necessary.
He glanced at his watch) it was almost eight
o’clock. He shoved the automatic into his belt,
reached down for the instructions and stood up,
looking around the room, mentally checking off the
movements and the locations he had designated for
himself. As he had expected, the Fishbein woman
had told him Leifhelm would be accompanied by
someone, a “driver” in this case, and it could be
assumed the man had other functions. If so, he
would have no chance to perform them.
The room one of twenty-odd conference rooms
in the hotel that he had reserved under the name
of a fictitious company was not large, but there were
structural arrangements that could be put to
advantage. The usual rectangular table was in the
center, three chairs on each side and two at the
ends, one with a telephone. There were additional
chairs against the walls for stenographers and
observers all this was normal. However, in the center
of the left wall was a doorway that led to a very
small room apparently used for private con-
versations. Inside was another telephone, which
when off the
306 ROBERT LUDIUM
hook caused a button on the first telephone on the
conference table to light up; confidentiality had its
limits in Bonn. The hallway door opened onto a
small foyer, thus prohibiting those entering from
scanning the room while standing in the corridor.
Connalfolded the Heckler & Koch instructions,
put them in his jacket pocket, and walked over to
the table to survey his set pieces. He had gone to an
oflfice-supply store and purchased the appropriate
items. On the far end of the table by the
telephone which was placed perpendicular to the
edge, the buttons in clear view were several file
folders next to an open briefcase (from a distance
its dark plastic looked like expensive leather).
Scattered about were papers, pencils and a yellow
legal pad, the top pages looped over. The setting
was familiar to anyone who had ever had an
appointment with an attorney, said learned counsel
having put his astute observations down on paper
prior to the conference.
Fitzpatrick retraced his steps to the chair, moved
it forward several feet, and crossed to the door of
the small side room. He had turned on the
lights two table lamps flanking a short couch) he
went to the one above the telephone and turned it
off. He then walked back to the open door and
stood between it and the wall, peering through the
narrow vertical space broken up by upper and lower
hinges. He had a clear view of the foyer’s entrance;
three people would pass into the conference room
and he would come out.
There was a knock on the hallway door the
rapid, impatient tapping of an heiress unable to
control herself. He had told the Fishbein woman the
location of the room, but nothing else. No name or
number, and in her anxiety she had not asked about
either. Fitzpatrick went to the telephone table in the
small room, lifted the phone out of its cradle and
placed it on its side. He returned to his position
behind the door, angling himself so as to look
through the crack, his body in the shadows. He took
the pistol from his belt, held it in front of him and
shouted in a friendly voice, loud enough to be heard
outside in the hotel corridor. “Bitte, kommen Sie
herein! Die Tare ist offer. Ich telefoniere gerade!”
The sound of the door as it opened preceded
Ilse Fishbein as she walked rapidly into the room,
her eyes directed at the conference table. She was
followed by Erich LeifLelm, who glanced about and
then turned slightly, nodding his head. A third man
in the uniform of a chauffeur came into view, his
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 307
hand in the pocket of his black jacket. Connal then
heard the second sound he needed to hear. The
hallway door was slammed shut.
He yanked back the small door and quickly
stepped around it, the gun extended, aimed directly
at the chauffeur.
“You!” he cried in German. “Take your hand out
of your pocket! Slowly!” The woman gasped, then
opened her mouth to scream. Fitzpatrick interrupted
harshly. “Be quiet! As your friend will tell you, I
haven’t anything to lose. I can kill the three of you
and be out of the country in an hour, leaving the
police to look for a Mr. Parnell who doesn’t exist.”
The chauffeur, the muscles of his jaw rippling,
removed his hand from his pocket, his fingers rigid.
Leifhelm stared in anger and fear at Connal’s gun,
his face no longer ashen but flushed. “You dare?”
“I dare, Field Marshal,” said Fitzpatrick. “Just as
you dared forty years ago to rape a young kid and
make damned sure that she and her whole family
never walked out of the camps. You bet your ass I
dare, and if I were you, I wouldn’t give me the
slightest cause to be any angrier than I am.’ Connal
spoke to the woman. “You. Inside that briefcase on
the table are eight strands of rope. Start with the
driver. Bind his hands and feet; I’ll tell you how.
Now! Quickly!”
Four minutes later the chauffeur and Leifhelm
sat in two conference chairs, their ankles and wrists
bound, the driver’s weapon removed from his pocket.
Connal checked the ropes the knots having been tied
under his instructions. Everything was secure; the
more one writhed, the tighter the knots would
become. He ordered the panicked Fishbein woman
into a third chair; he lashed her hands to the arms
and her feet to the legs.
Rising, Connal picked up the automatic from the
table and approached Leifhelm, who was sitting in
the chair next to the lighted telephone. “Now,” he
said, the gun pointed at the German’s head. “As
soon as I hang up the phone in the other room we re
going to make a call from here.” He walked quickly
into the small side room, hung up the telephone, and
returned. He sat down next to the bound Leifhelm
and took a scrap of paper out of the open briefcase.
On it was written the phone number of the general’s
estate on the Rhine beyond Bad Godesberg.
“What do you think you’ll accomplish? ‘ asked
Leifhelm.
308 ROBERT LUDLUM
“Trade-off,” replied Fitzpatrick, the barrel of the
gun pressed against the German’s temple. “You for
Converse.”
“Mein Gott!” whispered Ilse Fishbein as the
chauffeur writhed, his hands straining against the
ropes, which were now biting into his wrists.
“You believe anyone will listen to you, much less
carry out your orders?”
“They will if they want to see you alive again.
You know I’m right, General. This gun isn’t so
loud I made sure of that. I can turn on the radio
and kill you and be on a plane out of Germany
before you’re found. This room is reserved for the
night with instructions that we’re not to be disturbed
for any reason whatsoever.” Connal shifted the
weapon to his left hand, picked up the telephone,
and dialed the number written on the scrap of
paper.
“Guten Tag. Hier bet General LeifAelm.”
“Put someone in authority on this phone,” said
the Navy lawyer in perfect German. ‘ I have a gun
less than a foot away from General Leifhelm’s head
and I’ll kill him right now unless you do as I say.’
There were muffled shouts over the line as a
hand was held against the mouthpiece. In seconds a
crisp British accent was speaking slowly, deliberately