Robert Ludlum – Rhinemann Exchange

‘I can’t tell you. Don’t force me to.’

He sighed. 11 don’t think you understand. I’m. an Intelligence officer

assigned to Clandestine Operations – I’m not telling you anything you don’t

know. You made it possible for my hotel room to be searched; you lied; you

went into hiding; for all I know, you were responsible for several assaults

which nearly cost me my life. Now, you turn up in Buenos Aires, four

thousand

276

miles away from that Park Avenue apartment. You followed me four thousand

miles I … Why?

‘I can’t tell you! I haven’t been told what I can tell you!’

‘You haven’t been … Christ! With what I can piece together – and testify

to – you could spend twenty years in prison!’

‘I’d like to get out of the car. May IT she said softly, snuffing out her

cigarette in the ashtray.

‘Sure. Go ahead.’ David opened his door and rapidly came around the

automobile. Leslie walked to the railing, the waters of the Rio Lujin far

below in the distance.

‘It’s very beautiful here, isn’t it?9

‘Yes…. Did you try to have me killed?’

‘Oh, God!9 She whirled on him, spitting out the words. ‘I tried to save

your life I I’m here because I don’t want you killed!’

It took David a few moments to recover from the girl’s statement. Her hair

had fallen carelessly around her face, her eyes blinking back tears, her

lips trembling.

‘I think you’d better explain that,’ he said in a quiet monotone.

She turned away from him and looked down at the river, the villas, the

boats. ‘It’s like the Riviera, isn’t iff

‘Stop it, Leslie!’

‘Why? It’s part of it.’ She put her hands on the railing. ‘It used to be

all there was. Nothing else mattered. Where next; who next? What a lovely

party! … You were part of it.’

‘Not really. You’re wrong if you thought that. Just as you’re wrong now….

I won’t be put off.’

‘I’m not putting you off.’ She gripped the railing harder; it was a

physical gesture telegraphing her indecision with her words. ‘I’m trying to

tell you something.’

‘That you followed me because you’wanted to save my Ufe?’ He asked the

question with incredulity. ‘You were filled with dramatics in New York,

too, if I recall. You waited, how long was it? Five, six, eight years to

get me on the boathouse floor again. You’re a bitch.’

‘And you’re insignificantV She flung the words at him in heat. And then she

subsided, controlling herself. ‘I don’t mean you … you. Just compared to

everything else. We’re all insignificant in that sense.’

‘So the lady has a cause.’

Leslie stared at him and spoke softly. ‘One she believes in very deeply.-

277

.’Then you should have no reservations explaining it to me.’

‘I will. I promise you. But I can’t now…. Trust meV

‘Certainly,’ said David casually. And then he suddenly whipped out his

hand, grabbing her purse, which hung from her shoulder by a leather strap.

She started to resist; he looked at her. She stopped and breathed deeply.

He opened the purse and took out the envelope she had been given at the

fountain in the Plaza de Mayo. As he did so, his eyes caught sight of a

bulge at the bottom of the bag, covered by a silk scarf. He held the

envelope between his fingers and reached down. He separated the scarf from

the object and pulled out a small Remington revolver. Without saying

anything, he checked the chamber and the safety and put the weapon in his

jacket pocket.

‘I’ve leamed to use it,’ said Leslie tentatively.

‘Good for you,’ replied Spaulding, opening the envelope.

‘At least you’ll see how efficient we are,’ she said turning, looking down

at the river.

There was no letterhead, no origin of writer or organization. The heading

on the top of the paper read:

Spaul&ny. David. Lt. Col. Military Intelligence.

U.S. Army. Ciassification 4-0. Fairfax.

Beneath were five complicated paragraphs detailing every move he had made

since he was picked up on Saturday afternoon entering the embassy. David

was pleased to see that ‘Donald Scanlan’ was not mentioned; he’d gotten

through the airport and customs undetected.

Everything else was listed: his apartment, his telephone, his office at the

embassy, the incident on the C6rdoba roof, the lunch with Jean Cameron at

La Boca, the meeting with Kendall at the hotel, the assault on the Avenida

Parani, his telephone call in the store on Rodriguez Pefia.

Everything.

Even the ‘lunch’ with Heinrich Stoltz at the Langosta del Mar, on the

border of Lezurna. The meeting with Stoltz was estimated to last ‘a minimum

of one hour.’

It was the explanation for her leisurely pace on the Avenida de Mayo. But

David had cut the meeting short; there’d been no lunch. He wondered if he

had been picked up after he’d left the

278

restaurant. He had not been concerned. His thoughts had been on Heinrich

Stoltz and the presence of a Gestapo Stoltz knew nothing about.

‘Your people are very thorough. Now, who are they?’

‘Men . . . and women who have a calling. A purpose. A great calling.’

‘That’s not what I asked you. . . .

There was the sound of an automobile coming up the hill below the parking

area. Spaulding reached inside his jacket for his pistol. The car came into

view and proceeded upward, past them. The people in the car were laughing.

David turned his attention back to Leslie.

‘I asked you to trust me,’ said the girl. ‘I was on my way to an address on

that street, the boulevard called Julio. I was to be there at one thirty.

They’ll wonder where I am.’

‘You’re not going to answer me, are you?’

‘I’ll answer you in one way. I’m here to convince you to get out of Buenos

Aires.’

4’Why?.

‘Whatever it is you’re doing – and I don’t know what it is, they haven’t

told me – it can’t happen. We can’t let it happen. It’s wrong.’

‘Since you don’t know what it is, how can you say it’s wrong?’

‘Because I’ve been told. That’s enough!’

‘Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Ffihrer,’ said David quietly. ‘Get in the car!’

‘No. You’ve got to listen to me! Get out of Buenos Aires! Tell your

generals it can’t be doneV

‘Get in the car I’

There was the sound of another automobile, this time coming from the

opposite direction, from above. David put his hand once more under his

jacket, but then removed it casually. It was the same vehicle with the

laughing tourists that had passed by moments ago. They were still laughing,

still gesturing; probably drunk with luncheon wine.

‘You can’t take me to the embassy I You can’t V

‘If you don’t get in the car, you’ll just wake up there I Go on.’

There was the screeching of tires on the gravel. The descending automobile

had turned abruptly – at the last second – and swung sharply into the

parking area and come to a stop.

David looked up and swore to himself, his hand immobile

279

inside his jacket.

17wo high-powered rifles protruded from the open windows of the car. They

were aimed at him.

The heads of the three filen inside were covered with silk stockings, the

faces flattened, grotesque beyond the translucent masks. The rifles were

held by one man next to the driver and by another in the back.

The man in the rear opened the door, his rifle held steady. He gave his

command in a calm voice in English.

‘Get in the car, Mrs. Hawkwood. . . . And you, colonel. Remove your weapon

by the handle – with two fingers.’

David did so.

‘Walk to the railing,’ commanded the man in the back seat, and drop it over

the side, into the woods.’

David complied. The man got out of the car to let Leslie climb in. He then

returned to his seat and closed the door.

There ‘ was the gunning of the powerful engine and the sound once more of

spinning tires over the loose gravel. The car lurched forward out of the

parking area and sped off down the hill.

David stood by the railing. He would go over it and find his pistol. There

was no point in trying to follow the automobile with Leslie Hawkwood and

three men in stocking masks. His rented car was no match for a Duesenberg.

280

29

The restaurant had been selected by Jean. It was out of the way in the north

section of the city, beyond Palermo Park, a place for assignation. Telephone

jacks were in the wall by the booths; waiters could be seen bringing phones

to and from the secluded tables.

He was mildly surprised that Jean would know such a restaurant. Or would

choose it for them.

‘Where did you go this afternoon?’ she asked, seeing him looking out over

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *