rl.thebourneidentity-第12部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　The　first　police　car　reached　the　scene　as　the　man　in　the　gold…rimmed　spectacles　removed　his　raincoat；　shoving　it　through　the　open　window　of　the　Peugeot。　He　nodded　to　the　driver；　who　climbed　in　behind　the　wheel　and　started　the　engine。　The　killer　took　off　his　delicate　glasses　and　did　the　most　unexpected　thing　Jason　could　imagine。　He　walked　rapidly　back　towards　the　glass　doors　of　the　Bank；　joining　the　police　who　were　racing　inside。
　Bourne　watched　as　the　Peugeot　swung　away　from　the　kerb　and　sped　off　down　the　Bahnhofstrasse。　The　crowd　in　the　shop…front　began　to　disperse；　many　edging　their　way　towards　the　glass　doors；　craning　their　necks　around　one　another；　rising　on　the　balls　of　their　feet；　peering　inside。　A　police　officer　came　out；　waving　the　curious　back；　demanding　that　a　path　be　cleared　to　the　kerb。　As　he　shouted；　an　ambulance　careened　around　the　north…west　corner；　its　horn　joining　the　sharp；　piercing　notes　from　its　roof；　warning　all　to　get　out　of　its　way；　the　driver　nosed　his　outsized　vehicle　to　a　stop　in　the　space　created　by　the　departed　Peugeot。　Jason　could　watch　no　longer。　He　had　to　get　to　the　Carillon　du　Lac；　gather　his　things　and　get　out　of　Zurich；　out　of　Switzerland。　To　Paris。
　Why　Paris？　Why　had　he　insisted　that　the　funds　be　transferred　to　Paris！　It　had　not　occurred　to　him　before　he　sat　in　Walther　Apfel's　office；　stunned　by　the　extraordinary　figures　presented　him。　They　had　been　beyond　anything　in　his　imagination　…　so　much　so　that　he　could　only　react　numbly；　instinctively。　And　instinct　had　evoked　the　city　of　Paris。　As　though　it　were　somehow　vital。　Why？
　Again；　no　time。。。　He　saw　the　ambulance　crew　carry　a　stretcher　through　the　doors　of　the　bank。　On　it　was　a　body；　the　head　covered；　signifying　death。　The　significance　was　not　lost　on　Bourne；　save　for　skills　he　could　not　relate　to　anything　he　understood；　he　was　the　dead　man　on　that　stretcher。
　He　saw　an　empty　taxi　at　the　corner　and　ran　towards　it。　He　had　to　get　out　of　Zurich；　a　message　had　been　sent　from　Marseilles；　yet　the　dead　man　was　alive。　Jason　Bourne　was　alive。　Kill　him。　Kill　Jason　Bourne！
　God　in　heaven；　why！
　He　was　hoping　to　see　the　Carillon　du　Lac's　assistant　manager　behind　the　front　desk；　but　he　was　not　there。　Then　he　realized　that　a　short　note　to　the　man　…　what　was　his　name？　Stossel？　Yes；　Stossel　…　would　be　sufficient　An　explanation　for　his　sudden　departure　was　not　required　and　five　hundred　francs　would　easily　take　care　of　the　few　hours　he　had　accepted　from　the　Carillon　du　Lac　…　and　the　favour　he　would　ask　of　Heir　Stossel。
　In　his　room　he　threw　his　shaving　equipment　into　his　suitcase；　checked　the　pistol　he　had　taken　from　the　Frenchman；　leaving　it　in　his　overcoat　pocket；　and　sat　down　at　the　desk；　he　wrote　out　the　note　for　Herr　Stossel。　In　it　he　included　a　sentence　that　came　easily　…　almost　too　easily。
　。。。　he　may　be　in　contact　with　you　shortly　relative　to　messages　I　expect　will　have　been　sent　to　me。　I　trust　it　will　be　convenient　for　you　to　keep　an　eye　out　for　them；　and　accept　them　on　my　behalf。
　If　any　munication　came　from　the　elusive　Treadstone　Seventy…one；　he　wanted　to　know　about　it。　This　was　Zurich；　he　would。
　He　put　a　five…hundred…franc　note　between　the　folded　stationery　and　sealed　the　envelope。　Then　he　picked　up　his　suitcase；　walked　out　of　the　room；　and　went　down　the　hall　to　the　bank　of　lifts。　There　were　four；　he　touched　a　button　and　looked　behind　him；　remembering　the　Gemeinschaft。　There　was　no　one　there；　a　bell　pinged　and　the　red　light　above　the　third　lift　flashed　on。　He　had　caught　a　descending　machine。　Fine。　He　had　to　get　to　the　airport　just　as　fast　as　he　could；　he　had　to　get　out　of　Zurich；　out　of　Switzerland。　A　message　had　been　delivered。
　The　lift　doors　opened。　Two　men　stood　on　either　side　of　an　auburn…haired　woman；　they　interrupted　their　conversation；　nodded　at　the　newer　…　noting　the　suitcase　and　moving　to　the　side　…　then　resumed　talking　as　the　doors　closed。　They　were　in　their　mid…thirties　and　spoke　French　softly；　rapidly；　the　woman　glancing　alternately　at　both　men；　alternately　smiling　and　looking　pensive。　Decisions　of　no　great　import　were　being　made。　Laughter　intermingled　with　semi…serious　interrogation。
　'You'll　be　going　home　then　after　the　summations　tomorrow？'　asked　the　man　on　the　left
　'I'm　not　sure。　I'm　waiting　for　word　from　Ottawa；'　the　woman　replied。　'I　have　relations　in　Lyons；　it　would　be　good　to　see　them。'
　'It's　impossible；'　said　the　man　on　the　right；　'for　the　steering　mittee　to　find　ten　people　willing　to　summarize　this　Godforsaken　conference　in　a　single　day。　We'll　all　be　here　another　week。'
　'Brussels　will　not　approve；'　said　the　first　man　grinning。　The　hotel's　too　expensive。'
　Then　by　all　means　move　to　another；'　said　the　second　with　a　leer　at　the　woman。　'We've　been　waiting　for　you　to　do　just　that；　haven't　we？'
　'You're　a　lunatic；'　said　the　woman。　'You're　both　lunatics；　and　that's　my　summation。'
　'You're　not；　Marie；'　interjected　the　first。　'A　lunatic；　I　mean。　Your　presentation　yesterday　was　brilliant。'
　'It　was　nothing　of　the　son；'　she　said。　'It　was　routine　and　quite　dull。'
　'No；　no！'　disagreed　the　second。　'It　was　superb；　it　had　to　be。　I　didn't　understand　a　word。　But　then　I　have　other　talents。'。　'Lunatic。。。'
　The　lift　was　braking；　the　first　man　spoke　again。　'Let's　sit　in　the　back　row　of　the　hall。　We're　late　anyway　and　Bertinelli　is　speaking　…　to　little　effect；　I　suggest。　His　theories　of　enforced　cyclical　fluctuations　went　out　with　the　finances　of　the　Borgias。'
　'Before　then；'　said　the　auburn…haired　woman；　laughing。　'Caesar's　taxes。'　She　paused；　then　added；　'If　not　the　Punic　Wars。'
　The　back　row　then；　said　the　second　man；　offering　his　arm　to　the　woman。　'We　can　sleep。　He　uses　a　slide　projector；　it'll　be　dark。'
　'No；　you　two　go　ahead；　I'll　join　you　in　a　few　minutes。　I　really　must　send　off　some　cables　and　I　don't　trust　the　telephone　operators　to　get　them　right。'
　The　doors　opened　and　the　threesome　walked　out　of　the　lift　The　two　men　started　diagonally　across　the　lobby　together；　the　woman　towards　the　front　desk。　Bourne　fell　in　step　behind　her；　absently　reading　a　sign　on　a　triangular　stand　several　feet　away。
　Wele　To：　Members　of　The　Sixth　World　Economic　Conference
　Today's　Schedule：　1：00　P。M。：　The　Hon。　James　Frazier；　M。　P。　United
　Kingdom。　Suite　12　6：00　P。M。：　Dr　Eugenia　Bertinelli；　Univ。　of　Milan；
　Italy。　Suite　7。　9：00　P。M。：　Chairman's　Farewell　Dinner。　Hospitality　Suite。
　'Room　Five…zero…seven。　The　operator　said　there　was　a　cablegram　for　me。'
　English。　The　auburn…haired　woman　now　beside　him　at　the　counter　spoke　English。　But　then　she　had　said　she　was　'waiting　for　word　from　Ottawa'。　A　Canadian。
　The　desk　clerk　checked　the　slots　and　returned　with　the　cable。　'Doctor　St　Jacques？'　he　asked；　holding　out　the　envelope。
　'Yes。　Thanks　very　much。'
　The　woman　turned　away；　opening　the　cable；　as　the　clerk　moved　in　front　of　Bourne。　'Yes；　sir？'
　'I'd　like　to　leave　this　note　for　Herr　Stossel。'　He　placed　the　Carillon　du　Lac　envelope　on　the　counter。
　'Herr　Stossel　will　not　return　until　six　o'clock　in　the　morning；　sir。　In　the　afternoons；　he　leaves　at　four。　Might　I　be　of　service？'
　'No；　thanks。　Just　make　sure　he　gets　it；　please。'　Then　Jason　remembered：　this　was　Zurich。　'It's　nothing　urgent；'　he　added；　'but　I　need　an　answer。　I'll　check　with　him　in　the　morning。！
　'Of　course；　sir。'
　Bourne　picked　up　his　suitcase　and　started　across　the　lobby　towards　the　hotel's　entrance；　a　row　of　wide　glass　doors　that　led　to　a　circular　drive　fronting　the　lake。　He　could　see　several　taxis　waiting　under　the　floodlights　of　the　canopy；　the　sun　had　gone　down；　it　was　night　in　Zurich。　Still；　there　were　flights　to　all　points　of　Europe　until　well　past　midnight。。。
　He　stopped　walking；　his　breath　suspended；　a　form　of　paralysis　sweeping　over　him。　His　eyes　did　not　believe　what　else　he　saw　beyond　the　glass　doors。　A　brown　Peugeot　pulled　up　in　the　circular　drive　in　front　of　the　first　taxi。　Its　door　opened　and　a　man　stepped　out　…　a　killer　in　a　black　raincoat；　wearing　thin；　gold…rimmed　spectacles。　Then　from　the　other　door　another　figure　emerged；　but　it　was　not　the　driver　who　had　been　at　the　kerb　on　the　Bahnhofstrasse；　waiting　for　a　target　he　did　not　recognize。　Instead；　it　was　another　killer；　in　another　raincoat；　its　wide　pockets　recesses　for　powerful　weapons。　It　was　the　man　who　had　sat　in　the　reception　room　on　the　first　floor　of　the　Gemeinschaft　Bank；　the　same　man　who　bad　pulled　a。38　calibre　pistol　from　a　holster　beneath　his　coat。　A　pistol　with　a　perforated　cylinder　on　its　barrel　that　silenced　two　bullets　meant　for　the　skull　of　the　quarry　he　had　followed　into　an　elevator。
　How？　How　could　they　have　found　him？。。。　Then　he　remembered　and　felt　sick。　It　had　been　so　innocuous；　so　casual！
　Are　you　enjoying　your　stay　in　Zurich？　Walther　Apfel　had　asked　while　they　were　waiting　for　a　minion　to　leave　and　be　alone　again。
　Very　much　so。　My　room　overlooks　the　lake。　It's　a　nice　view；　very　peaceful；　quiet。
　Koenig！　Koenig　had　heard　him　say　his　room　looked　over　the　lake。　How　many　hotels　had　rooms　overlooking　the　lake？　Especially　hotels　a　man　with　a　three…zero　account　might　frequent　Two？　Three？。。。　From　unremembered　memory　names　came　to　him：　Carillon　du　Lac；　Baur　au　Lac；　Eden　an　Lac。　Were　there　others？　No　further　names　came。　How　easy　it　must　have　been　to　narrow　them　down。　How　easy　it　had　been　for　him　to　say　the　words。　'How　stupid　I。。。'　No　time。　Too　late。　He　could　see　through　the　row　of　glass　doors；　so；　too；　could　the　killers。　The　second　man　had　spotted　him。　Words　were　exchanged　over　the　hood　of　the　Peugeot；　gold…rimmed　spectacles　adjusted；　hands　placed　in　outsized　pockets；　unseen　weapons　gripped。　The　two　men　converged　on　the　entrance；　separating　at　the　last　moment；　one　on　either　end　of　the　row　of　clear　glass　panels。　The　flanks　were　covered；　the　trap　set；　he　could　not　race　outside。
　Did　they　think　they　could　walk　into　a　crowded　hotel　lobby　and　simply　kill　a　man？
　Of　course　they　could！　The　crowds　and　the　noise　were　their　cover。　Two；　three；　four　muted　gunshots　fired　at　close　range　would　be　as　effective　as　an　ambush　in　a　crowded　square　in　daylight；　escape　easily　found　in　the　resulting　chaos。
　He　could　not　let　them　get　near　him　I　He　backed　away；　thoughts　racing　through　his　mind；　outrage　paramount　How　dared　they？　What　made　them　think　he　would　not　run　for　prote