know. I’ve simply left a confidential memorandum on my desk. The charge
will be listed on your billing as … additional surveillance.*
He went out the door, closing it firmly behind him. Matlock rose from the
black leather chair and crossed behind the desk. He turned the paper over
and read the typed heading.
FOR SURVEn.LANCE: HJUn70RD–NFW HAVEN AXIS
pRrvATE CLUBS: LOCATIONS AND CONTACTS (M&NACERS) As OF 3-15. NOT TO BE
REMOVED FROM OFFICE
Beneath the short, capitalized paragraph were twenty-odd addresses and
names.
Nimrod was closer now.
19
The Luxor-Elite Rental Agency on Asylum Street, Hartford, had been
cooperative. Matlock now drove a Cadillac convertible. The manager had
accepted the explanation that the Lincoln was too funereal, and since the
registration papers were in order, the switch was perfectly acceptable.
So was the twenty-dollar tip.
Matlock had analyzed Blackstone’s list carefully. He decided to concentrate
on the clubs northwest of Hartford for the simple reason that they were
nearer the Carlyle area. They werenI the nearest, however. Two locations
were within five and seven miles of Carlyle respectively-in opposite
directions-but Matlock decided to hold them off for a day or so. By the
time he reached them-if he did so-he wanted the managements to know he was
a heavy plunger.
Not a mark, just heavy. The network gossip would take care of that-if he
handled himself properly.
He checked off his first location. It was a private swimming club west of
Avon. The contact was a man named Jacopo Bartolozzi.
At nine thirty Matlock drove up the winding drive. way to a canopy
extending from the entrance of the Avon Swim Club. A uniformed doorman
signaled a parking attendant, who appeared out of nowhere and
192 Robert Ludlum
slid into the driver’s seat the moment Matlock stepped onto the pavement
Obviously no parking ticket was to be givem
As he walked toward the entrance, he looked at the exterior of the club.
The main building was a sprawling, one-story white brick structure with a
tall stockade fence extending from both ends into the darkness. On the
right, quite far behind the fence, was the iridescent glow of greenish blue
light and the sound of water splashing. On the left was a huge tentlike
canopy under which could be seen the shimmering light of dozens of patio
torches. The former was obviously an enormous pool, the latter some kind of
dining area. Soft music could be heard.
The Avon Swim Club appeared to be a very luxurious complex.
The interior did nothing to dispel this observation. The foyer was thickly
carpeted and the various ebairs and odd tables against the damask walls
seemed genuine antiques. On the left was a large checkroom, and further
down on the right was a white marble counter not unlike a hotel information
desk. At the end of the narrow lobby was the only incongruous structure. It
was a black, ornate wrought-iron gate, and it was closed, obviously locked.
Beyond the grilled enclosure could be seen an open-air corridor, subtly lit
with an extended covering supported by a series of thin Ionic pillars. A
large man in a tuxedo was standing at attention behind the iron gate.
Matlock approached him.
‘Your membership card, sir?’
Tm afraid I don’t have one.*
&Sorry, sir, this is a private swimming club. Members onlp”
TBE MATLOCK PAPER 193
47 was told to ask for Mr. Bartolozzi.”
Ile man behind the grill stared at Matlock, frisking him with his eyes.
“You’d better check the front desk sir. Right over there.”
Matlock walked back to the counter, to be greeted
by a middle-aged, slightly paunchy desk clerk who had not been there when he
first came in.
“May I help you?”
~You may. I’m fairly new in the area. rd like tD become a member.”
‘We’re sorry. Membership’s full right now. However, if youll fill out an
application, well be glad to can you if there’s an opening…. Would that
be a family application or individual, sir?” The clerk very professionally,
reached below the counter and brought up two application forms.
“Individual. I’m not married…. I was told to ask for Mr. Bartolozzi. I
was told specifically to ask for him. Jacopo Bartolozzi.”
The clerk gave the name only the slightest indication of recognition.
“Here, fill out an application and IT put it on Mr. Bartolozzi’s desk.
He’ll see it in the morning. Perhaps he’ll call you, but I don~t know what
he can do. Membership’s full and theres a waiting list”
“Iset he here now? On such a busy night?” Matlock said the words with a
degree of incredulity.
“I doubt it, sir.”
‘Why don’t you find out? Tell him we have mutual friends in San Juan.”
Matlock withdrew his money clip and removed a fifty-dollar bill. He placed
it in front of the clerk, who looked at him sharply and slowly picked up
the money.
194 Robert Ludlum
‘San Juan?”
San Juan.-
Matlock leaned against the white marble counter and saw the man behind the
wrought-iron gate watching him. If the San Juan story worked and he got
through the gate, he realized that he would have to part with another
large-sized bill. The San Juan story should work thought Matlock. It was
logical to the point of innocence. He had spent a winter vacation In Puerto
Rico two years ago, and although no gambler, he’d traveled with a
crowd–and a girl-who made the nightly rounds of the casinos. Hed met a
number of people from the Hartford vicinity, although he couldWt for the
life of hini remember a single name.
A foursome emerged from inside the grilled entrance, the girls giggling,
the men laughing resignedly. The women had probably won twenty or thirty
dollars, thought Matlock, while the men had probably lost several hundred.
Fair exchange for the evening. The gate closed behind them; Matlock could
hear the electric click of the latch. It was a very welllocked iron gate.
‘Excuse me, sir?” It was the paunchy desk clerk, and Matlock turned around.
“Yes?”
‘If youT step inside, Mr. Bartolozzi will see you.’
‘Where? How?’ There was no door except the wrought-iron gate and the clerk
had gestured with his left hand, away from the gate.
*~Over here, sir.”
Suddenly a knobless, frameless panel to the right of the counter swung
open. The outline was barely discermble when the panel was Rush against the
damask wall, when shu4 no border was in evidence. Mat-
THE MATLOCK PAPER 195
lock walked In and was taken by the clerk to the office of Jacopo
Bartolozzi.
‘We got mutual friends?” The obese Italian spoke hoarsely as he leaned back
in his chair behind the desk. He made no attempt to rise, gave no gesture
of welcome. Jacopo Bartolozz! was a short; squat caricature of himself.
Matlock couldn’t be sure, but he had the feeling that Bartolozzfs feet
wereet touching the floor beneath his chair.
“It amounts to the same thing, Mr. BartolozZi.”
“What amounts? Who’s in San Juan?”
‘Several people. One fellow’s a dentist in West Hartford. Anothees got an
accounting firm in Constitution Plaza.”
“Yeah…. Yeah?” Bartolozzi was trying to associate people with the
professions and locations Matlock described. “Whats the names? They members
here?”
“I guess they are. They gave me your name.”
“This is a swim club. Private membership…. Who are they?”
“Look Mr. Bartolozzi, it was a crazy night at the Condado casino. We all
had a lot to drink and…”
ney don7t drink in the Puerto Rican casinos. les a lawl” The Italian spoke
sharply, proud of his incisive knowledge. He was pointing his fat finger
at Matlock.
“More honored in the breach, believe me.”
“What?”
‘We dmr& Take my word for it. rm just telling you I don’t remember their
names…. Look, I can go downtown on Monday and stand all day outside the
Plaza and IT find the CPA. I could also go out to West Hartford and ring
every dentises doorbell. What difference does it make? I like to play and
I’ve got the money.”
3L96 Robert Ludlum
Bartolozzi smiled. ‘niis is a swim club. I don’t know what the hell you’re
talking about.”
“O.K..” said Matlock with a disgruntled edge to his voice. “Ilis place
happened to be convenient, but if you want to show three lemons, there are
others. My San Juan friends also told me about Jinuny Lacata’s down in
Middletown, and Sammy Sharpes in Windsor Shoals…. Keep your chips, fink.”
He turned to the door.
‘Hold itl Wait a minutel”
Matlock watched the fat Italian get, out of the chair and stand up. He’d
been right. Bartolozzrs feet couldiYt have been touching the floor.
“What for? Maybe your limit’s too small here
‘You know Lacata? Sharpe?”
‘Know of them, I told you. . . . Look, forget it. Yoxeve got to be careful.
IT find my CPA on Monday and we’ll both come back some other time- I just
felt like playing tonight.w
“0.3L O.K. Like you said, we gotta be careful.” Bartolozzi opened his top