"Whoever it was," completed Kessler, "knows now that I am part of Geneva. So, you have your answer; for I have no choice. Im with you."

"Im sorry," said Holcroft "I wanted you to have a choice."

"I know you did, and I thank you for it. However, I must insist on one condition."

"Whats that?"

"My brother, Hans, in Munich, must be made part of the covenant."

Noel recalled Manfredis words; there were no restrictions in this respect. The only stipulation was that each family had one vote. "Theres nothing to prevent him, if he wants to."

"Hell want to. We are very close. Youll like him. Hes a fine doctor."

"Id say you were both fine doctors."

"He heals. I merely expound.... Im also driving aimlessly. Id ask you out to my house, but under the circumstances Id better not."

"Ive done enough damage. But you should get back as soon as you can."

"Why?"

"If were lucky, nobodyll give your name to the police, and it wont matter. But if someone does-a waiter or anybody who knows you-you can say you were on your way out when it happened."

Kessler shook his head. "Im a passive man. Such thoughts would not have occurred to me."

"Three weeks ago they wouldnt have occurred to me, either. Let me off near a taxi stand. Ill go to my hotel and get my suitcase."

"Nonsense. Ill drive you."

"We shouldnt be seen together anymore. Thats asking for complications."

"I must learn to listen to you. When will we see each other, then?"

"Ill call you from Paris. Im meeting with Von Tiebolt in a day or so. Then the three of us have to get to Geneva. Theres very little time left."

"That man in New York? Miles?"

"Among other things. Ill explain when I see you again. Theres a taxi on the corner."

"What will you do now? I doubt there are planes at this hour."

"Then Ill wait at the airport. I dont want to be isolated in a hotel room." Kessler stopped the car; Holcroft reached for the door. "Thank you, Erich. And Im sorry."

"Dont be, my friend Noel. Call me."

The blond-haired man sat rigidly behind the desk in Kesslers library. His eyes were furious, his voice strained and intense as he spoke.

"Tell me again. Every word. Leave out nothing."

"Whats the point?" replied Kessler from across the room. "Weve gone over it ten times. Ive remembered everything."

"Then we shall go over it ten more times!" shouted Johann von Tiebolt. "Thirty times, forty times! Who was he? Where did he come from? Who were the two men in Montereau? Theyre linked; where did all three come from?"

"We dont know," said the scholar. "Theres no way to tell."

"But there is! Dont you see? The answers in what that man said to Holcroft in the alley. Im certain of it. Ive heard the words before. Its there!"

"For Gods sake, you had the man." Kessler spoke firmly. "If you couldnt learn anything from him, what makes you think we can from anything Holcroft said? You should have broken him."

"He wouldnt break; he was too far gone for drugs."

"So you put a wire to his throat and threw him to the American. Madness!"

"Not madness," said Tennyson. "Consistency. Holcroft must be convinced that Wolfsschanze is everywhere. Prodding, threatening, protecting.... Lets go back to what was said. According to Holcroft, the man wasnt afraid to die. What was it? '... I am prepared. We are all prepared. We will stop you. We will stop Geneva. Kill me and another will take my place; kill him, another his. The words of a fanatic But he wasnt a fanatic; I saw that for myself. He was no ODESSA agent, no Rache revolutionary. He was something else. Holcroft was right about that. Something else."

"Were at a dead end."

"Not entirely. I have a man in Paris checking on the identities of the bodies found in Montereau."

"La Srete?"

"Yes. Hes the best." Tennyson sighed. "Its all so incredible. After thirty years, the first overt moves are made, and within two weeks men come out of nowhere. As if theyd been waiting along with us for three decades. Yet they do not come out in the open. Why not? That is the sticking point. Why not?"

"The man said it to Holcroft in the alley. 'We can put that fortune to use. They cant get it if they expose Genevas sources."

"Too simple; the amounts too great. If it was money alone, nothing would prevent them from coming to us-to the banks directors, for that matter-and negotiating from a position of strength. Nearly eight hundred million; from their point of view, they could demand two thirds. Theyd be dead after the fact, but they dont know that. No, Erich, its not the money alone. We must look for something else."

"We must look at the other crisis!" Kessler shouted. "Whoever that man was, tonight, whoever the two men were in Montereau, theyre secondary to our most immediate concern! Face it, Johann! The British know youre the Tinamou! Dont sidetrack that any longer. They know youre the Tinamou!"

"Correction. They suspect Im he; they dont know it. And as Holcroft so correctly put it, theyll soon be convinced theyre wrong, if theyre not convinced already, Actually, its a very advantageous position."

"Youre mad!" screamed Kessler. "You will jeopardize everything!"

"On the contrary," said Tennyson calmly. "I will solidify everything. What better ally could we have than MI Five? To be certain, we have men in British Intelligence, but none so high as Payton-Jones."

"What in the name of God are you talking about?" The scholar was perspiring; the veins in his neck were pronounced.

"Sit down, Erich."

"No!"

"Sit down!"

Kessler sat. "I wont tolerate this, Johann."

"Dont tolerate anything; just listen." Tennyson leaned forward. "For a few moments, lets reverse roles; Ill be the professor."

"Dont push me. We can handle intruders who wont show themselves; they have something to hide. We cant handle this. If youre taken, whats left?"

"Thats flattering, but you mustnt think that way. If anything should happen to me, there are the lists, names of our people everywhere. A man can be found among them; the Fourth Reich will have a leader, in any event. But nothing will happen to me. The Tinamou is my shield, my protection. With his capture, Im not only free of suspicion, Im held in great respect."

"Youve lost your senses! You are the Tinamou!"

Tennyson sat back, smiling. "Lets examine our assassin, shall we? Ten years ago you agreed he was my finest creation. I believe you said the Tinamou might well turn out to be our most vital weapon."

"In theory. Only in theory. It was an academic judgment; I also said that!"

"True, you often take refuge high up in your cloistered tower, and thats how it should be. But you were right, you know. In the last analysis, the millions in Switzerland cannot serve us unless they can be put to use. There are laws everywhere; they must be circumvented. Its not as simple as it once was to pay for a Reichstag, or a block of seats in Parliament; or to buy an election in America. But for us it is nowhere near as difficult as it would be for others; that was your point ten years ago, and it is more valid today. We are in the position to make extraordinary demands on the most influential men in every major government. Theyve paid the Tinamou to assassinate their adversaries. From Washington to Paris to Cairo; from Athens to Beirut to Madrid; from London to Warsaw and even to Moscow itself. The Tinamou is irresistible. He is our own nuclear bomb."

"And he can claim us in the fallout!"

"He could," agreed Tennyson, "but he wont. Years ago, Erich, we vowed to keep no secrets from each other, and Ive kept that vow in all matters except one. I wont apologize; it was, as they say, a decision of rank, and I felt it was necessary."

"What did you do?" asked Kessler.

"Gave us that most vital weapon you spoke of ten years ago."

"How?"

"A few moments ago you were quite specific. You raised your voice and said I was the Tinamou."

"You are!"

"Im not."

"What?"

"Im only half of the Tinamou. To be sure, the better half, but still only half. For years I trained another; he is my alternate in the field. His expertness has been taught, his brilliance acquired; next to the real Tinamou, hes the best on earth."

The scholar stared at the blond man in astonishment ... and with awe. "Hes one of us? Ein Sonnenkind?"

"Of course not! Hes a paid killer; he knows nothing but an extraordinary life-style in which every need and appetite is gratified by the extraordinary sums he earns. Hes also aware that one day he may have to pay the price for his way of living, and he accepts that. Hes a professional."

Kessler sank back in the chair and loosened his collar. "I must say, you never cease to amaze me."

"Im not finished," replied Tennyson. "An event is taking place in London shortly, a gathering of heads of state. Its the perfect opportunity. The Tinamou will be caught."

"Hell be what?"

"You heard correctly." Tennyson smiled. "The Tinamou will be captured, a weapon in his hands, the odd caliber and the bore markings traceable to three previous assassinations. He will be caught and killed by the man who has been tracking him for nearly six years. A man who, for his own protection, wants no credit, wants no mention of his name. Who calls in the intelligence authorities of his adopted country. John Tennyson, European correspodent of the Guardian."

"My God," whispered Kessler. "How will you do it?"

"Even you cant know that. But therell be a dividend as powerful as Geneva itself. The word will go out, in print, that the Tinamou kept private records. They havent been found, and thus can be presumed to have been stolen by someone. That someone will be ourselves. So, in death, the Tinamou serves us still."

Kessler shook his head in wonder. "You think exotically; thats your essential gift."

"Among others," said the blond man matter-of-factly. "And our newfound alliance with MI Five may be helpful. Other intelligence services may be more sophisticated, but none are better." Tennyson slapped the arm of his chair. "Now. Lets get back to our unknown enemy. His identity is in the words spoken in that alley. Ive heard them! I know it."

"Weve exhausted that approach."

"Weve only begun." The blond man reached for a pencil and paper. "Now, from the beginning. Well write down everything he said, everything you can remember."

The scholar sighed. "From the beginning," he repeated. "Very well. According to Holcroft, the mans first words referred to the killing in France, the fact that Holcroft had not hesitated to fire his pistol then...."

Kessler spoke. Tennyson listened and interrupted and asked for repetitions of words and phrases. He wrote furiously. Forty minutes passed.

"I cant go on any longer," said Kessler. "Theres no more I can tell you."

"Again, the eagles," countered the blond man harshly. "Say the words exactly as Holcroft said them."

"Eagles?... 'You wont stop the eagles. Not this time. Could he have meant the Luftwaffe? The Wehrmacht?"

"Not likely." Tennyson looked down at the pages in front of him. He tapped his finger at something he had written down. "Here. 'Your Wolfsschanze. Your Wolfsschanze.... Meaning ours, not theirs."

"What are you talking about?" said Kessler. "We are Wolfsschanze; the men of Wolfsschanze are Sonnenkinder!"

Tennyson ignored the interruption. "Von Stauffenberg, Olbricht, Von Falkenhausen, and Hpner. Rommel called them 'the true eagles of Germany. They were the insurrectionists, the Fhrers would-be assassins. All were shot; Rommel, ordered to take his own life. Those are the eagles he referred to. Their Wolfsschanze, not ours."

"Where does it lead us? For Gods sake, Johann, Im exhausted. I cant go on!"

Tennyson had covered a dozen pages of paper; now he shuffled them, underlining words, circling phrases. "You may have said enough," he replied. "Its here ... in this section. He used the words 'butchers and clowns, and then, 'you wont stop the eagles.... Only seconds later, Holcroft told him that the account would be tied up for years, that there were conditions ... 'the money frozen, sent back into the ground. The man repeated the phrase 'back into the ground, saying it was the flaw. But then he added that there would be 'no scorched earth. 'Scorched earth. 'There will be no ... scorched earth. "

The blond mans upper body tensed. He leaned back in the chair, his sculptured face twisted in concentration, his cold eyes staring rigidly at the words on the paper. "It couldnt be ... after all these years. Operation Barbarossa! The 'scorched earth of Barbarossa! Oh, my God, the Nachrichtendienst. Its the Nachrichtendienst!"

"What are you talking about?" Kessler said. " 'Barbarossa was Hitlers first invasion north, a magnificent victory."

"He called it a victory. The Prussians called it a disaster. A hollow victory, written in blood. Whole divisions unprepared, decimated.... 'We took the land, the generals said. 'We took the worthless, scorched earth of Barbarossa. Out of it came the Nachrichtendienst."

"What was it?"

"An intelligence unit. Rarefied, exclusively Junker, a corps of aristocrats. Later, there were those who thought it was a Gehlen operation, designed to sow distrust between the Russians and the West. But it wasnt; it was solely its own. It loathed Hitler; it scorned the Schutzstaffel-'SS garbage was the term it used; it hated the commanders of the Luftwaffe. All were called 'butchers and clowns. It was above the war, above the party. It was only for Germany. Their Germany."

"Say what you mean, Johann!" shouted Kessler.

"The Nachrichtendienst survives. Its the intruder. It wants to destroy Geneva. It will stop at nothing to abort the Fourth Reich before its born."

27.

Noel waited on the bridge, watching the lights of Paris flicker like clusters of tiny candles. He had reached Helden at Gallimard; she had agreed to meet him after work on the Pont Neuf. He had tried to persuade her to drive to the hotel in Argenteuil, but she had declined his offer.