call when I'm not there. Please tell her that I'm delayed but will arrive shortly."
"It's no problem, sir. R6gine and I are good friends."
"Certainly. You both conspire against me. The scrambler, please."
The low-toned hum on the line-three telephone completed, Moreau dialed his man in Bonn.
"Hallo," said the man in Germany.
"Ibr Mann in Frankreich."
"Go ahead and talk," the man in Bonn broke in.
"I'm so clean here, I'm wired into the Saudi Arabian Embassy."
"What?"
"I use their lines, not their receivership. Think of the money I save France. I should be given a bonus."
"You are a rogue."
"Why else would you pay me, Paris?"
"I read your communique to us. Several things were left out."
"Such as?"
"Who comprises that 'small, circle of conservatives who wink at their own oratory." You deliver no names, not even a hint of their affiliations."
"Naturally. Isn't that part of our very personal agreement? Do you really want the entire [email protected] Bureau to have the information? If so, your bank in Switzerland is entirely too generous to this rogue."
"Enough!" snapped Moreau.
"You do what you do, and I do what I do, and neither has to know what the other is doing. Is that understood?"
"I imagine it has to be. So what do you want to know?"
"Who are the people leading, or behind, this small circle you describe?"
"Most are nothing but opportunists with little ability who wish to catch on to a tail that will bring back the old days. Others are followers who march to past drums because they have none of their own-"
"Their leaders?" said Moreau curtly.
"Who are they?"
"That'll cost you, Claude."
"It will cost you if you don't spell them out. Monetarily and otherwise."
"I believe you. Alas, my presence would barely be missed.
You're a tough man, Moreau."
"And eminently fair," countered the [email protected] chief.
"You're well paid, both on and off the books, the former far more dangerous for you. I wouldn't have to leave this office, or issue a single order except one: "Quietly release selected top-secret information to our friends in Bonn." Your demise probably wouldn't even make the papers."
"And if I give you what I have?"
"Then a lovely, productive friendship will continue."
"It's not much, Claude."
"I trust that's not a prelude for your withholding anything."
"Of course it isn't. I'm not a fool."
"There's logic in your words. So give me this disappointing, limited information that concerns your 'small circle."
"My informants tell me that every Tuesday night a meeting is held at one or another's house along the Rhine, usually a large house, an estate. Each has docking facilities and all those coming together arrive by boat, never by automobile."
"A boat's wake is somewhat less identifiable than tire tracks," interrupted Moreau, "or vehicles with license plates.
"Understood. Therefore, these meetings are secret and the identities of those attending concealed."
"The houses, however, are not, are they? Or hadn't that fact occurred to your informants?"
"I was getting to them. For God's sake, give me some credit."
"I'm impatient. The owners' names, please."
"It's a mixed bag, Claude. Three are upstanding aristocrats whose families opposed Hitler and paid for it; three, possibly four, are part of the new rich who guard their assets from further government appropriations; and two are men of the cloth-one an old Catholic priest, the other a Lutheran minister who apparently takes his vows of non ostentation seriously. He's listed as the lessee of the smallest house on the river."
"The names, damn you!"
"I have only six-- "Where are the others?"
"The unknown three are also renters, and the leasing agents in Switzerland won't reveal anything. That's standard practice among the very rich who want to avoid taxes on outside income."
"Give me the six, then."
"Maximilian von L6wenstein, he owns the largest-" "His father, the general, was executed by the SS in the Wolfsschanze incident, the attempted assassination of Hitler. Next?"
"Albert Richter, once a playboy, now a converted, serious politician."
"He's still a dilettante, with property in Monaco. His family was about to cut him off unless he changed his ways. It's an act.
Next?"
"Gunter jAger, he's the Lutheran minister."
"I don't know him, at least nothing that comes to mind. Next?"
"Monsignor Heinrich Paltz, he's the priest."
"An ancient right-wing Catholic who covers his biases with sanctimonious drivel. Next?"
"Friedrich von Schell, he's the third of the rich people we've identified. His estate has more than-"
"He's smart," interrupted Moreau, "and -he's tough where the unions are concerned. A nineteenth-century Prussian in Armani suits. Next?"
"Ansel Schmidt, very outspoken; an electronics engineer who made millions in high-technology exports and fights the government at every turn."
"A pig who went from one firm to another stealing technology