01 doet caret I can’t stand it any longerl”
What could he do? What was he supposed to do? Oh, Goa Oh, God, you
son-of-a-bitching God] Te’j met TeU met
He looked over at the arbor. The oilcloth packet lay on the ground where he
had thrown it.
He had no choice now. He did not care now.
Nimrodf … Nimrod! Come to me now, Nimrodl Bring your goddamn army/ Come
on and get it, Nim-rodl rve got it herer
Through the followmg silence, he heard the footsteps.
Precue, surefooted, emphatic.
On the middle path, Nunrod came into view.
THE MATUXX PAPM 371
Adrian Sealfont stood on the edge of the flagstone circle.
Tin sorry, jamee
Matlock lowered the girrs head to the ground. His mind was incapable of
functionmg His shock was so total that no words came, he coul&1 assimilate
the terrible, unbelievable fact in front of him. He rose slowly to his feet
“Give it to me, James. You have your agreement We’ll take care of you.”
“No…. No. No, I doet, I woWt believe you! This iset so. This isn7t the
way it can be. . . ”
Tm afraid it is.” Sealfont snapped the fingers of his right hand. It was a
signal.
“No. . . . Not Not Not” Matlock found that he was screan-dng. The girl,
too, cried out. He tamed to Sealfont. “They said you were taken awayl I
thought you were deadl I blamed myself for your deathl*
“I wasn7t taken, I was escorted. Give me the diaries.” Sealfont, annoyed,
snapped his fingers again. “And the Corsican paper. I trust you have both
with You.”
There was the slightest sound of a muffled cough, a rasp, an interrupted
exclamation. Sealfont looked quickly behind him and spoke sharply to his
unseen forces.
“Get out beret” Why?-
“Because we had to. I had to. There was no alternative~”
“No alternative?” Matlock couldn’t believe he had heard the words. “No
alternative to what?*
“Collapsel We were financially exhaustedl Our last reserves were committed;
there was no one left to ap-
372 Robert Ludlum
peal to. The moral corruption was complete: the pleas of higher education
became an unprofitable, national bore. There was no other answer but to
assert our own leadership … over the corruptors. We did so, and we
survivedin
In the agonizing bewilderment of the moment the pieces of the puzzle fell
into place for Matlock. The unknown tumblers of the unfamiliar vault locked
into gear and the heavy steel door was opened… Carlyle!s extraordinary
endowment … But it was more than Carlyle; Sealfont had just said it. The
pleas had become a borel It was subtle, but it was therel
Everywherel
The raising of funds throughout all the campuses continued but there were
no cries of panic these days; no threats of financial collapse that had
been the themes of a hundred past campaigns in scores of colleges and
universities.
The general assumption to be made-if one bothered to make it-was that the
crises had been averted. Normality had returned.
But it hadWt. The norm had become a monster.
“Oh, my God,” said Matlock softly, in terrified consternation.
“He was no help, I can assure you,” replied Sealfont. “Our accomplishments
are extremely human. Look at us now. Independentl Our strength growing
systematically. Within five years every major university in the Northeast
will be part of a self-sustaining federation]”
“You’re diseased…. You7re a cancerl”
‘We survivel The choice was never really that difficult. No one was going
to stop the way things were. Least of all ourselves…. We simply made the
decision ten years ago to alter the principal players.”
THE MATLOCK PAPER 373
OBut you of all people …
‘Yes. I was a good choiM wasn’t Ir SeaNoit turned once again In the
direction of the restaurant. toward the sleeping hill with the old brick
path& He shouted. “I told you to come out herel Theres nothing to worry
about Our friend doeset cam who you are. HeM soon be on his way. Wou!t you#
James?-
“Yoxere insane. Toxere …
~Not for a minutel Theres no one saner. Or more practical. . . . History
repeats, you should know that The fabric Is torn, society divided into
viciously opposing camps. Doet be fooled by the dormancy; scratch the
surface-It bleeds profusely –
Yo,ere making it bleedl- Matlock screamed. Them was nothing left; the
spring had sprung.
“On the contraryl You pompous, self-righteous awF Sealfones eyes stared at
him in cold fury, his voice scathing. “Who gave you the right to nuke pro-
nounoements? Where were you when men like myself–in every
institution-faced the very red prospects of closing our doorsl You were
safe; we sheltered you. . . . And our appeals went unanswered. There wasn’t
room for our needs
“You diddt tryl Not hard enough. – ”
Uarl Foolr Sealfont roared now. He was a m-n possessed, thought Matlock.
Or a man tormente& What was W Endowments? Dwindlingl Them are other, more
viable tax incentives! … Foundations? Small-minded tyrants-smaller
allocationsl – – – The Government? Blindf Obscenel Its priorities am
boughtl or returned in kind at the ballot boxi We had no funds; we bought
no votesl For us, the system had collapsedl it was finishedl … And no one
knew
374 Robert Ludlum
it better than I did. For years … begging, pleading; palm outstretched to
the ignorant men and their pompous committees. . . . It was hopeless; we
were killing ourselves. Still no one listened. And always … always-behind
the excuses and the delays-there was the snickering, the veiled reference to
our common God-given frailty. After all … we were teachers. Not doers. .
. .”
Sealfones voice was suddenly low. And hard. And utterly convincing as he
finished. “Well, young man, were doers now. The system’s damned and rightly
so. The leaders never learn. Look to the children. They saw. They
understood…. And we’ve enrolled them. Our alliance is no coincidence.”
Matlock could do no more than stare at Sealfont. Sealfont had said it: Look
to the children…. Look, and behold. Look and beware. The leaders never
learn… Oh, Godl Was it so? Was it really the way things were? The Nimrods
and the Dunoises. The “federations,” the “elite guards.” Was it happening
all over again?
“Now James. Where is the letter you spoke of? Who has it?”
“Letter? What?’
“The letter that is to be mailed this morning. Well stop it now, won’t we?”
“I don’t understand.” Matlock was trying, trying desperately to make
contact with his senses.
“Who has the letterl”
“The letter?” Matlock knew as he spoke that he was saying the wrong words,
but he couldn~t help himself. He couldn7t stop to think, for he was
incapable of thought.
“The letterl … There is no letter, is there?l Theres
. no ‘incriminating statemene typed and ready to
THE mATLocK PAPER 375
be mailed at ten 4*lock in the morningl You were lyingl”
“I was lying. Lying.” His reserves had been used up. There was nothing now
but what was so.
Sealfont laughed softly. It wasnI the laugh Matlock was used to hearing
from him. There was a cruelty h4EM not heard before.
“Wereet you clever? But yotfre ultimately weaJL I knew that from the
begimung. You were the gDvernmenes perfect choice, for you have no really
&m commitments. They called it mobility. I knew it to be unconcerned
fleidbility You talk but thaes all you do. Its meaningless…. You~re very
representative, you know.” Sealfont spoke over his shoulder toward the
paths. “All right, all of youl Dr. Matlock won’t be in a position to reveal
any nalnes, any identities. Come out of your hutches, you rabbitsl”
Augh…-
11he guttural cry was short, punctuating the stillness. Sealfont whipped
around.
Then there was another gasp, this the unrn te able sound of a human
windpipe expunging its last draft of air.
And another, this coupled with the beginnings of a scream.
“Who is it? Who’s up there?” Sealfont rushed to the path from which the
last cry came.
He was stopped by the sound of a terrifying shout –cut short–from another
part of the sanctuary. He raced back; the beginnings of panic were jarring
his control.
Who’s up there?l Where are all of you? Comi down hereF
The silence returned. Sealfont stared at Matlock.
“What have you done? What have you done, you
376 Robert Ludlum
unimportant little man? Whom have you brought with you? Who is up there?
Answer mer
Even if he’d been capable, there was no need for Matlock to reply. From a
path at the far end of the garden, Julian Dunois walked into view.
“Good morning, Nimrod.”
Sealfont’s eyes bulged. “Who are you? Where are my men?f’
“ne name is Jacques Devereaux, Heysofi Daumier, Julian Dunois-take your
choice. You were no match for us. You had a complement of ten, I had eight.
No match. Your men are dead and how their bodies are disposed of is no
concern of yours.”