dialed.
The recorded words were like the lash of a whip across his face.
“Charger Three-zero is canceled.”
Then there was silence. As Blackstone had promised, there was nothing else
but the single sentencestated but once. There was no one to speak to, no
appeal. Nothing.
But there had to bel He would not, could not, be cut off like thisl If
Blackstone was canceling him, he had a right to know whyl He had a right to
know that Pat was safel
It took several minutes and a number of threats before he reached
Blackstone himself.
“I doet have to talk to youl” The sleepy voice was belligerent. “I made
that clearl … But I doet mind because if I can put a trace on this call
I’ll tell them where to find you the second you hang upi”
“Don7t threaten mel You~ve got too much of my
33o Robert Ludlum
money to threaten me…. Why am I canceled? rve got a right to know that.-
‘Because you stinki You stink like garbagel*
“Thaes not good enoughl That doesn1 mean any~ thingf-
“I’ll give you the rundown then. A warrant is out for you. Signed by the
court and . . .-
“For what, goddamn it? Protective custody?l Preventive detention?/”
“For murder, Matlockl For conspiracy to distribute narcoticsI For aiding
and abetting known narcotics distributors! . . . You sold outl Like I said,
you smelU And I hate the business yoxfre in!”
Matlock was stunned. Murder? Conspiracyl What was Blackstone talking about?
“I don~t know what you’ve been told, but ifs not true. None of it7s truel
I risked my life, my life, do you hear me[ To bring what I’ve got. . .”
“You~re a good talker,” interrupted Blackstone, “but you~re carelessl
You’re also a ghoulish bastardl There’s a guy in a field outside of Carlyle
with his throat slit. It didn~t take the government boys ten minutes to
trace that Ford wagon to its owned”
“I didn1 kiU that manl I swear to Christ I didt* kill himl”
“No, of course notl And you didn’t even see the fellow whose head you shot
off at East Gorge, did you? Except that there’s a parking lot attendant and
a couple of others whove got you on the scenel . . . I forgot Yotfre also
stupid. You left the parking ticket under your windshield wiperl”
“Now, wait a minutel Wait a minutel This is all crazyl The man at East
Gorge asked to meet me therel He tried to murder mel”
‘Tell that to your lawyer. We got the whole thing
THE MATLOCK PAPER 333L
–straight-from the justice boysl I demanded that I’ve got a damned good
reputation…. III say this. When you sell out, you sell hight Over sixty
thousand dollars in a checking account. Like I said, you wwU, Matlockl”
He was so shocked he could not raise his voice. When he spoke, he was out
of breath, hardly audible. “Listen to me. Yoeve got to listen to me.
Everything you say … there are explanations. Except the man in the field.
I doet understand that. But I doet care if you believe me or not. It
doesn’t matter. I’m holding in my hand all the vindication I’ll ever
need…. What does matter is that you watch that girl/ Doet cancel me outl
Watch herl”
“Apparently you don’t understand English very well. You are canceledl
Charger Three-zero is canceledt”
“What about the girl?”
“We~re not irresponsible’. said Blackstone bitterly. “SVs perfectly safe.
She’s under the protection of the Carlyle police.”
There was a general commotion at the bar. The bartender was closing up and
his customers resented it. Obscenities were shouted back and forth over the
beer-soaked, filthy mahogany, while cooler or more drunken heads slowly
weaved their way toward the front door.
Paralyzed, Matlock stood by the foul-smelling telephone. The roaring at the
bar reached a crescendo but he heard nothing; the figures in front of his
eyes were only blurs. He felt sick to his stomach, and so be held the front
of his trousers, the oilcloth packet with Lucas Herroes notebook between
his hands and his belt. He thought he was going to be sick as he had
332 Robert Ludlum
been sick beside the corpse on the East Gorge slope.
But-there was no time. Pat was held by NunroTs private army. Me had to act
now. And when he acted, the spring would be sprung. There would be no re-
winding-
The horrible truth was that he diddt know where to begin.
Whaes the matter, mister? The sandwichesr
“What?”
‘Ya look like yoxere gonna throw up.”
‘Oh? … No.” Matlock saw for the first time that almost everyone had left
the place.
The notebookl The notebook would be the ransoml There would be no tortured
decision-not for the plastic men] Not for the nwnipulatorsl Nimrod could
have the notebookl The indictmend
But then what? Would Nimrod let her live? Let him live? . . . What had
Lucas Herron written: “The new Nimrod is a monster … ruthless. He orders
executions. . . ”
Nimrod had murdered with far less motive than someoniA knowledge of Lucas
Herron~s diahes.
“Look, mister. I’m sorry, but I gotta close up.”
“Will you call a taxi for me, please?”
“A taxi? Its after three o’clock. Even if there was one, he wouldnt come
down here at three o’clock in the morning.”
“Have you got a car?”
“Now wait a minute, mister. I gotta clean up and ring out. I had some
action tonight. The registeell, take me twenty minutes.”
Matlock withdrew his bills. The smallest denomination was a hundred. “I’ve
got to have a car-right away. How much do you want? I’ll bring it back in
an hour-maybe less.”
= MATLOCK PAPER 333
The bartender looked at Matlock’s money. It wasn’t a normal sight. “It’s a
pretty old heap. You might have trouble driving it.”
“I can drive anythingl Herel Heres a hundredl If I wreck it you can have
the whole roll. Herel Take it, for Christ’s sakel”
“Sure. Sure, mister.” The bartender reached under his apron and took out
his car keys. “The square ones the ignition. Ies parked in the rear.
Sixty-two Chevy. Go out the back door.”
“Thanks.” Matlock started for the door indicated by the bartender.
“Hey, misterl”
~What?”
-What’s your name again? … Something ‘rock’? I forgot. I mean, for
Christ’s sake, I give you the car, I don’t even know your namel”
Matlock thought for a second. “Rod. Nimrod. The name’s Nimrod.”
“That’s no name, mister.” The burly man started toward Matlock. “That’s a
spin fly for catchin’ trout. Now, whats your name? You got my car, I gotta
know your name.”
Matlock still held the money in his band. He peeled off three additional
hundreds and threw them on the floor. It seemed right. He had given Kramer
four hundred dollars for his station wagon. There should be symmetry
somewhere. Or, at least, meaningless logic.
“That’s four hundred dollars. You couldn’t get four hundred dollars for a
’62 Chevy. I’ll bring it backl” He ran for the door. The last words he
heard were those of the grateful but confused manager of Bilrs Bar & Grill.
“Nimrod. Fuckid jokerl”
&-34 Robert Ludlum
The car was a heap, as its owner had said. But it moved, and that was all
that mattered. Sealfont would help him analyze the facts, the alternatives.
Two opinions were better than one; he was afraid of assuming the total
responsibility-he waset capable of it. And Sealfont would have people in
high places he could contact Sam KresseI, the liaison, would listen and ob-
ject and be terrified for his domain. No matter; he’d be dismissed. Pat’s
safety was uppermost. Sealfont would see that
Perhaps it was fame to threaten-as Herron ultimately had threatened. Nimrod
had Pat; he had Herroes indictment. The life of one human being for the
protection of hundreds, perhaps thousands. Even Nimrod had to see their
bargaining position. It was irrefutable, the odds were on their side.
He realized as he neared the railroad depot that this kind of thinking, by
itself, made him a manipulator, too. Pat had been reduced to quantity X,
Herron!s diaries, quantity Y. The equation would then be postulated and the
mathematical observers would make their decisions based on the data
presented. It was the ice-cold logic of survival; emotional factors were
disregarded, consciously despised.
Frighteningl
He turned right at the station and started to chive up College Parkway.
Sealfont’s mansion stood at the end. He went as fast as the ’62 Chevy would
go, which wasn’t much above thirty miles an hour on the hill. The streets
were deserted, washed clean by the storm. The store fronts, the houses, and
finally the campus were dark and silent.
He remembered that Kressel’s house was just a half block off College
Parkway on High Street. The detour would take him no more than thirty
second& It was