risk-taker. An actor named Caleb Dowling.
“I want no money from you,” saidJohann, his
English guttural with fear.
‘ You think it’s tainted, makes you a true accessory,
is that
“You are the lawyer, I am merely a student.”
“Let me set you straight. It’s not tainted because
I didn’t do whatever they said I did, and there’s no
such thing as an accessory to innocence.”
“You are the lawyer, sir.”
Converse pushed the newspaper in front of the
young German and with his right hand reached into
his pocket where he had put ten thousand deutsche
marks in ascending denominations for his immediate
use. He counted out seven thousand and reached
over, placing it in front of Johann. “Put that away
before I shove it down your throat.”
“I will not take your money!”
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 359
“You’ll take it and tell them I gave it to you, if
you want to. They’ll have to give it back.”
‘What do you mean?”
‘The truth, counselor. You’ll find out one day
that it’s the best shield you’ve got. Now, read me
what the paper saysI”
“‘The ambassador was killed sometime last
night,'” began the student haltingly as he awkwardly
put the deutsche marks in his pocket. “. . . The
approximate time of death is difficult to establish
until further examinations,'” he continued, translating
the words in the article in fits and starts, trying to
find the appropriate meanings. ” ‘. . . The fatal
wound was . . . ‘Scha’del’ cranial, a head wound ‘the
body in the water for many hours, washed up on the
riverbank in the Plittersdorf and found early this
morning…. The military charge d’affaires was quoted
as saying that the last person known to have been
with the ambassador was an American by the name
of Joel Converse. When that name appeared, there
were . . .’ ” The young German squinted, shaking his
head nervously. “How do you say it?”
“I don’t know,” said Joel coldly, his voice flat.
“What am I trying to say?”
“‘. . . very excited’ frantic ‘communications
between the governments of Switzerland, France and
the Federal Republic, all in coordination with the
International Criminal Police, otherwise known as
Interpol, and the . . . pieces of the tragic . . . Ratsel
. . . puzzle fell into place,’ became clear, it means.
‘Unknown to Ambassador Peregrine, the American
Converse has been the object of an Interpol . . .
Suche. . . search as a result of killings in Geneva and
Paris as well as several attempted murders not yet
clarified.’ ” Johann looked up at Converse. There was
a throbbing in his throat.
“Go on,” ordered Joel. “You don’t know how
enlightening this is. Go on 1”
“‘According to the ambassador’s office, a
confidential meeting was arranged at the request of
this man Converse, who claimed to have information
injurious to American interests and which has
subsequently proven to be false. The two men were
to meet at the entrance of the Adenauer Bridge
between seven-thirty and eight o’clock last evening.
The charge d’affaires who accompanied Ambassador
Peregrine confirmed that the two men met at
seven-fifty-one P.M. and started across the bridge on
the pedestrian walkway. It was the last time anyone
from the embassy saw the ambassador
360 ROBERT LUDLUM
alive.’ ” Johann swallowed, his hands trembling. He
took several deep breaths and went on, his eyes
rushing forward across the print, beads of
perspiration breaking out on his hairline. Below are
more complete . . . eingehendere . . . details as they
are known, but a statement issued by Interpol
described the suspect, Joel as an apparently normal
man who is in reality a … wandernde….'” The young
German lowered his voice to a whisper. “‘a walking
explosive with severe mental disturbances. He is
judged by several behavioral experts in the United
States to be psychopathically ill as a result of nearly
four years as a prisoner of war during the Vietnam
conflict….'”
As Johann stammered on, frightened by his own
voice, the telling words and damning phrases came
with staccato regularity, backed up by hastily
contacted departmental “sources” and unnamed,
faceless `authorities.” The portrait was that of a
mentally deranged man who had been thrown back
in time, his derangement triggered by some violent
event that left him with his intelligence intact but
without moral or physical control. In addition,
Interpolts search for him was spoken of in clouded
terms, implying a secret manhunt that had been in
progress for a number of days, if not weeks.
” ‘. . . His homicidal tendencies are channeled,’
” continued the now near-panicked student as the
article quoted another “authoritative” source. ” . . .
He has a pathological hatred for present or former
high-ranking military personnel, especially those
who had gained prominent public stature. . . .
Ambassador Peregrine was a celebrated battalion
commander in World War Two’s Bastogne
campaign, during which many American lives were
lost…. Authorities in Washington have speculated
that the disturbed man, who after several harrowing
attempts finally escaped from a maximum-security
camp in North Vietnam years ago, traveling over a
hundred miles through enemy. . . Dschungel . . .
jungle to reach his lines, is reliving his own
experiences…. His jusfffication for
survival according to a military psychiatrist is the
killing of superior officers, past or present, who
gave orders in combat, or, in the extreme, even
civilians who in his imaginings bore some
responsibility for the suffering he and others
endured. Yet he is outwardly a normal man, as so
many like him…. Guards have been placed in
Washington, London, Brussels, and here in Bonn….
As an international law
THE AQUITAINE PROGRESSION 361
yer,whois presumed to have access to numerous
criminal elements who deal in illegal passports . . .'”
It was a brilliantly executed trap, the crucial lies
supported by truths, half-truths, distortions and
complete falsehoods. Even the precise timing of the
evening was considered. The charge d’affaires at the
embassy stated unequivocally that he had seen Joel
at the Adenauer Bridge “at 7:51 P.M.,”
approximately twenty-five minutes after he had
broken out of the stone jailhouse on Leifhelm’s
estate, and less than ten minutes after he had
plunged into the Rhine. Every fragment of the hour
was accounted for. That he was ‘officially” placed at
the bridge by 7:51″ denied his story of capture and
escape any credibility.
The incident in Geneva the death of A. Preston
Halliday was introduced as a possible explanation
for the violent act that had hurled him back in time,
triggering Joel’s maniacal behavior. ‘. . . It has been
learned that the attorney who was shot to death had
been a well-known leader in the American protest
movement in the sixties….” The veiled conclusion
was that Converse might have hired the killers. Even
the death of the man in Paris was given a very
different and far more important dimension oddly
enough, based in reality. “. . . Initially the victim’s
true identity was withheld in hopes of aiding the
manhunt, as suspicions were aroused as a result of
an interview the Surete had with a French lawyer
who has known the suspect for a number of years.
The attorney who had lunched with the suspect that
day indicated that his American friend was in
‘serious troubles and needed ‘medical attention.’ . .
.” The dead man in Paris, of course, was an out-
standing colonel in the French Army, and an aide
successively to several “prominent generals.”
Finally, as if to convince any remaining
unbelievers in this public trial by “authoritative”
journalism, references were made not only to his
conduct but to the remarks he made upon his
separation from service over a decade and a half
ago. These were released by the United States
Department of the Navy, Fifth Naval District, which
included its own recommendation at the time that
one Lieutenant Converse be placed under voluntary
psychiatric observation; it was refused. His conduct
had been insulting in the extreme to the panel of
officers who wished only to help him, and his
remarks were nothing short of violent threats against
numerous
362 ROBERT LUDIUM
high-ranking military personnel, whom, as a carrier
pilot, he could have known nothing about.
It all completed the portrait as painted by the
artists of Aquitaine. Johann finished the article, the
newspaper now clutched in his hands, his eyes wide
and frightened. “That s all there is . . . sir.”
“I d hate to think there’s any more,” said Joel.
“Do you believe it?”
“I have no thoughts. I’m too frightened to think.”
“That s an honest answer. Uppermost in your
mind is the fact that I might kill you, so you can’t
face what you think. That’s what you’re really saying.
You’re afraid that by a look or a wrong word I
could take offence and pull a trigger.”
“Please, sir, I am not adequate!”
“Neither was 1.”
“Let me go. “