Shadow of a Broken Man

'My mother thought so too,' I said testily. 'What's your point?'

He slowly turned and dropped his dead cigar into an ashtray. 'My point is that we consider you a dangerous man. I'm not sure how to handle you.'

'A suggestion: Try telling me the truth.'

'The truth here is irrelevant!' he snapped. Then he sucked in a breath. 'It is absolutely essential that you drop this investigation!'

'Essential to whom?'

'To the well-being of innocent people,' he answered without hesitation. 'Do you know what a 'freak' is?'

'Who would know better?' I said drily.

Lippitt didn't smile. 'The term 'freak' has a special meaning in my field. Put simply, a freak is a terrorist, a torturer. Most of the ones I know of are truly psychopathic. They're used on occasion by all countries. Their assignment is simply to spread havoc, but only under special circumstances. Such a man was brought into this situation five years ago but- thankfully-never used. That doesn't mean that he won't be used now if it's discovered that this matter has been brought up again.'

'As far as I know, you're the only heavyweight who knows about my interest in Rafferty.'

Lippitt laughed shortly, without humor. 'Yes, but who knows where your questions will lead? My good man, you have no idea how dangerous this business could become. The others have resources.' He tapped the tips of his fingers together a few times while he stared at me, then dropped his hands to his sides. I had the feeling he'd made some kind of decision.

'I'll tell you the truth that you seem to think is so important and I say is irrelevant,' he continued. 'I know Rafferty is dead because I killed him.'

I studied the map of Lippitt's face, but there was no key there to indicate whether or not he was lying. My mouth had suddenly gone dry. 'How?' I asked in a cracked voice.

'I shot him to death,' Lippitt said evenly. 'He was trying to kill me. It was after I shot him that he fell off the catwalk into the furnace.'

'Why did you kill him, Lippitt? Why were you after him in the first place?'

'He was about to defect to the Russians. He forced the issue; he backed me into a corner.'

'But what would the Russians want with an architect?'

'Rafferty had certain invaluable information. We could not let him share that information with anyone.'

'What kind of information?'

Lippitt shook his head. 'I can't tell you that, Frederickson.'

'Maybe you haven't had the time to cook up that part of your story.'

He ignored the barb. 'I won't argue with you over something that can't be proved,' he said quietly. 'Perhaps you should simply give me the benefit of the doubt.'

'Why should I do that?'

'To save lives.' His even tone lent weight to his words. I suddenly felt brushed back and on the defensive. 'Other governments knew that Rafferty had this information,' Lippitt continued. 'What developed was a race to control Rafferty.'

'That would explain the Missing Persons report with your name on it.'

'Correct. A number of governments were involved; like us, they would have spared nothing to find him. What Victor Rafferty knew was that valuable. Now, if you continue to stir things up, certain parties may begin to suspect that Rafferty is still alive and they'll begin looking for him. If that happens, Dr. Frederickson, people will die. I guarantee it.'

'Is that what happened to Dr. Morton?'

Lippitt caught his reaction a split second too late. 'Who is this Dr. Morton?'

'He was Rafferty's neurosurgeon, and I think you know it. He was murdered a few days before the time you say you shot Rafferty. I believe the two cases are linked.'

'I wouldn't know anything about that.'

I was sure he was lying, and I wondered why. 'Somebody else must have shared Rafferty's knowledge,' I said.

'Why do you say that?'

'Somebody helped him get out of that locked hospital room,' I replied. 'If Rafferty had an ally, it seems reasonable to assume that the ally knew what Rafferty knew.'

Lippitt shook his head. 'Rafferty worked alone. There's a simple explanation for what happened at the hospital: The officer responsible for guarding Rafferty didn't do his job. The door wasn't bolted properly, and the officer fell asleep.'

'That's your version. He says he was hypnotized.'

'That's rather creative, but it's nonsense. What excuse would you use if you'd been in his place?'

'He also believes that you kept him from being sacked.'

'Then he's a senile fool.'

'You know, Lippitt, you make it easy to suspect that you and your people have Rafferty and don't want anybody to find out about it.'

'And what if we did?' Lippitt snapped, anger flaring in his voice. 'There would be nothing you could do about it! The only thing you'd accomplish would be to bring trouble-maybe death-to innocent people. The first person they might go after could be his widow.'

'Why? Because she knows what Rafferty knew?'

'Because the others might think that she does, or think that she knows where he is. You could be in great danger as a result of what you're doing, but that doesn't seem to bother you.'

'On the contrary,' I said; 'you're scaring the hell out of me. I don't want anyone to get hurt, and that includes me. But I don't like to be threatened, either. You're not what I'd call a disinterested party.'

'Why did you go to the U.N.?'

'If Rafferty is alive, he may have been working there two years ago. He may even be working there now.'

'What are you talking about?' In his voice there was disbelief mixed with concern.

Lippitt seemed to grow agitated as I showed him the picture of the Nately Museum and gave him a quick rundown of what I'd learned.

'Impossible,' he said when I'd finished.

'Why?'

Lippitt's body suddenly convulsed, and for a moment I feared he was having an epileptic seizure. He was shuddering, as if suffering from a bone-cracking cold blowing in from some subterranean region of his mind. I moved toward him, but he held out his hand to keep me away. I watched with horrified fascination as Lippitt struggled to bring his body under control. Gradually, the shuddering abated, his teeth stopped chattering, and blood came back to his face. He leaned hard against the wall, then straightened up.

'You must excuse me,' he said quietly.

'Can I get you something?'

'No, thank you. I'll be all right.' He took a deep breath. 'Have you discussed this matter with anyone at the U.N.?'

'Maybe,' I said after a pause.

'Then you've made a terrible mistake. I understand that you mistrust me and my motives, and that you think I'm lying. But I want you to consider what your burden of responsibility will be if I'm telling the truth.'

'I'll give it a lot of thought,' I replied, meaning it. 'One more question: Do you know what it was that Rafferty knew?'

'That will have to remain a mystery.' He turned and walked to the door. He hesitated a moment and I thought he was going to add something, but he didn't. He stared at me for a few seconds, then left. The air in the apartment suddenly felt oppressive and dank, as if Lippitt had left behind some of his private cold.