rl.thebourneidentity-第51部分

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he　Leland　kill。'　'He　was　there。〃
　'He　was　trapped。　At　least；　he　never　showed　up。　Some　said　he'd　been　killed；　but　since　there　was　no　corpse；　Carlos　didn't　believe　it。〃
　'How　was　Cain　supposedly　killed？'　Mme　Lavier　retreated；　shaking　her　head　in　short；　rapid　movements。　'Two　men　on　the　waterfront　tried　to　take　the　credit；　tried　to　get　paid　for　it。　One　was　never　seen　again；　it　can　be　presumed　Cain　killed　him；　if　it　was　Cain。　They　were　dock　garbage。'
　'What　was　the　trap？'
　'The　alleged　trap；　Monsieur。　They　claimed　to　have　got　word　that　Cain　was　to　meet　someone　in　the　rue　Sarasin　a　night　or　so　before　the　assassination。　They　say　they　left　appropriately　obscure　messages　in　the　street　and　lured　a　man　they　were　convinced　was　Cain　down　to　the　piers；　to　a　fishing　boat。　Neither　trawler　nor　skipper　were　seen　again；　so　they　may　have　been　right；　but　as　I　say；　there　was　no　proof。　Not　even　an　adequate　description　of　Cain　to　match　against　the　man　led　away　from　the　Sarasin。　At　any　rate；　that's　where　it　ends。'
　You're　wrong。　That's　where　it　began。　For　me。
　'I　see；〃　said　Bourne；　trying　again　to　infuse　naturalness　into　his　voice。　'Our　information's　different　naturally。　We　made　a　choice　on　what　we　thought　we　knew。'
　'The　wrong　choice；　Monsieur。　What　I've　told　you　is　the　truth。'
　'Yes；　I　know。'
　'Do　we　have　our　promise；　then？'
　'Why　not？'
　'Bien。'　Relieved；　the　woman　lifted　the　wine　glass　to　her　lips。　'You'll　see；　it　will　be　better　for　everyone。'
　'It。。。　doesn't　really　matter　now。'　He　could　barely　be　heard；　and　he　knew　it。　What　did　he　say？　What　had　he　just　said？　Why　did　he　say　it？。。。　The　mists　were　closing　in　again；　the　thunder　getting　louder；　the　pain　had　returned　to　his　temples。　'I　mean。。。　I　mean；　as　you　say；　it's　better　for　everyone。'　He…could　feel　…see　…　the　Lavier　woman's　eyes　on　him；　studying　him。　'It's　a　reasonable　solution。〃
　'Of　course　it　is。。。　You　are　not　feeling　well？〃
　'I　said　it　was　nothing；　it'll　pass。'
　'I'm　relieved。　Now；　would　you　excuse　me　for　a　moment？'
　'No！'　Jason　grabbed　her　arm。
　'S'il　vous　plait；　monsieur。　The　powder　room；　that　is　all。　If　you　care　to；　stand　outside　the　door。'
　'We'll　leave。　You　can　stop　on　the　way。'　Bourne　signalled　the　waiter　for　the　bill。　'As　you　wish；'　she　said；　watching　him。
　He　stood　in　the　darkened　corridor　between　the　spills　of　light　that　came　from　recessed　lamps　in　the　ceiling。　Across　the　way　was　the　ladies　room；　denoted　by　small；　uncapitalized　letters　of　gold　that　read　les　femmes。　Beautiful　people　…　stunning　women；　handsome　men　…　kept　passing　by；　the　orbit　was　similar　to　that　of　Les　Classiques。　Jacqueline　Lavier　was　at　home。
　She　had　also　been　in　the　ladies'　room　for　nearly　ten　minutes；　a　fact　that　would　have　disturbed　Jason　had　he　been　able　to　concentrate　on　the　time。　He　could　not；　he　was　on　fire。　Noise　and　pain　consumed　him；　every　nerve　ending　raw；　exposed；　the　fibres　swelling；　terrified　of　puncture。　He　stared　straight　ahead；　a　history　of　dead　men　behind　him。　The　past　was　in　the　eyes　of　the　truth；　they　had　sought　him　out　and　he　had　seen　them。　Cain。。。　Cain。。。　Cain！
　He　shook　his　head　and　looked　up　at　the　black　ceiling。　He　had　to　function；　he　could　not　allow　himself　to　keep　falling；　plunging　into　the　abyss　filled　with　darkness　and　high　wind。　There　were　decisions　to　make。。。　No；　they　were　made；　it　was　a　question　now　of　implementing　them。
　Marie。　Marie？　Oh；　God；　my　love；　we've　been　so　wrong！　He　breathed　deeply　and　glanced　at　his　watch　…　the　chronometer　he　had　traded　for　a　thin　gold　piece　of　jewellery　belonging　to　a　marquis　in　the　south　of　France。　He　is　a　man　of　immense　skill；　extremely　inventive。。。　There　was　no　joy　in　that　appraisal。　He　looked　across　at　the　ladies'　room。
　Where　was　Jacqueline　Lavier？　Why　didn't　she　e　out？　What　could　she　hope　to　acplish　remaining　inside？　He　had　had　the　presence　of　mind　to　ask　the　maitre　if　there　was　a　telephone　in　the　ladies'　room；　the　man　had　replied　negatively；　pointing　to　a　box　by　the　entrance。　The　Lavier　woman　had　been　at　his　side；　she　heard　the　answer；　understanding　the　inquiry。
　There　was　a　blinding　flash　of　light。　He　lurched　backwards　recoiling　into　the　wall；　his　hands　in　front　of　his　eyes。　The　pain！　Oh；　Christ！　His　eyes　were　on　fire！
　And　then　he　heard　the　words；　spoken　through　the　polite　laughter　of　well…dressed　men　and　women　walking　casually　about　the　corridor。
　'In　memory　of　your　dinner　at　Roget's；　Monsieur；〃　said　an　animated　hostess；　holding　a　press　camera　by　its　vertical　flash…bar。　'The　photograph　will　be　ready　in　a　few　minutes。　pliments　of　Roget。'
　Bourne　remained　rigid；　knowing　that　he　could　not　smash　the　camera；　the　fear　of　another　realization　sweeping　over　him。　'Why　me？'　he　asked。
　'Your　fiancee　requested　it；　Monsieur；'　replied　the　girl；　nodding　her　head　towards　the　ladies'　room。　'We　talked　inside。　You　are　most　fortunate；　she　is　a　lovely　lady。　She　asked　me　to　give　you　this。'　The　hostess　held　out　a　folded　note；　Jason　took　it　as　she　pranced　away　towards　the　restaurant　entrance。
　Your　illness　disturbs　me；　as　I'm　sure　it　does　you；　my　new　friend。　You　may　be　what　you　say　you　are；　and　then　again　you　may　not。　I　shall　have　the　answer　in　a　half　hour　or　so。　A　telephone　call　was　made　by　a　sympathetic　diner；　and　that　photograph　is　on　its　way　to　Paris。　You　cannot　stop　it　any　more　than　you　can　stop　those　driving　now　to　Argenteuil。　If　we；　indeed；　have　our　promise；　neither　will　disturb　you　…　as　your　illness　disturbs　me　…　and　we　shall　talk　again　when　my　associates　arrive。
　It　is　said　that　Cain　is　a　chameleon；　appearing　in　various　guises；　and　most　convincing。　It　is　also　said　that　he　is　prone　to　violence　and　to　fits　of　temper。　These　are　an　illness；　no？
　He　ran　down　the　dark　street　in　Argenteuil　after　the　receding　roof　light　of　the　taxi；　it　turned　the　corner　and　disappeared。　He　stopped；　breathing　heavily；　looking　in　all　directions　for　another；　there　was　none。　The　doorman　at　Roget's　had　told　him　a　cab　would　take　ten　to　fifteen　minutes　to　arrive；　why　had　not　Monsieur　requested　one　earlier？　The　trap　was　set　and　he　had　walked　into　it
　Up　ahead！　A　light；　another　taxi！　He　broke　into　a　run。　He　had　to　stop　it；　he　had　to　get　back　to　Paris。　To　Marie。
　He　was　back　in　a　labyrinth；　racing　blindly；　knowing；　finally；　there　was　no　escape。　But　the　race　would　be　made　alone；　that　decision　was　irrevocable。　There　would　be　no　discussion；　no　debate；　no　screaming　back　and　forth　…　arguments　based　on　love　and　uncertainty。　For　the　certainty　had　been　made　clear。　He　knew　who　he　was。。。　what　he　had　been；　he　was　guilty　as　charged　…　as　suspected。
　An　hour　or　two　saying　nothing。　Just　watching；　talking　quietly　about　anything　but　the　truth。　Loving。　And　then　he　would　leave；　she　would　never　know　when　and　he　could　never　tell　her　why。　He　owed　her　that；　it　would　hurt　deeply　for　a　while；　but　the　ultimate　pain　would　be　far　less　than　that　caused　by　the　stigma　of　Cain。
　Cain！
　Marie。　Marie！　What　have　I　done？
　'Taxi！　Taxi！'
　Get　out　of　Paris！　Now！　Whatever　you're　doing；　stop　it　and　get　out！。。。　Those　are　orders　from　your　government。。。　They　want　you　out　of　there。　They　want　him　isolated。
　Marie　crushed　out　her　cigarette　in　the　ashtray　on　the　bedside　table；　her　eyes　falling　on　the　four…year…old　issue　of　Time；　her　thoughts　briefly　on　the　terrible　game　Jason　had　forced　her　to　play。
　'I　won't　listen！'　she　said　to　herself　out　loud；　startled　at　the　sound　of　her　own　voice　in　the　empty　room。　She　walked　to　the　window；　the　same　window　he　had　faced；　looking　out；　frightened；　trying　to　make　her　understand。
　I　have　to　know　certain　things。。。　enough　to　make　a　decision　but　maybe　not　everything。　A　part　of　me　has　to　be　able。。。to　run；　disappear。　I　have　to　be　able　to　say　to　myself；　what　was　isn't　any　longer；　and　there's　a　possibility　that　it　never　was　because　I　have　no　memory　of　it。　What　a　person　can't　remember　didn't　exist；。。　for　him。
　'My　darling；　my　darling。　Don't　let　them　do　this　to　you！'　Her　spoken　words　did　not　startle　now；　for　it　was　as　though　he　were　there　in　the　room；　listening；　heeding　his　own　words；　willing　to　run；　disappear。。。　with　her。　But　at　the　core　of　her　understanding；　she　knew　he　could　not　do　that；　he　could　not　settle　for　a　half…truth；　or　three…quarters　of　a　lie。
　They　want　him　isolated。
　Who　were　they！　The　answer　was　in　Canada　and　Canada　was　cut　off；　another　trap。
　Jason　was　right　about　Paris；　she　felt　it；　too。　Whatever　it。was　was　here。　If　they　could　find　one　person　to　lift　the　shroud　and　let　him　see　for　himself　he　was　being　manipulated；　then　other　questions　might　be　manageable；　the　answers　no　longer　pushing　him　towards　self…destruction。　If　he　could　be　convinced　that　whatever　unremembered　crimes　he　had　mitted；　he　was　a　pawn　for　a　much　greater　single　crime；　he　might　be　able　to　walk　away；　disappear　with　her。　Everything　was　relative。　What　the　man　she　loved　had　to　be　able　to　say　to　himself　was　not　that　the　past　no　longer　existed；　but　that　it　had；　and　he　could　live　with　it；　and　put　it　to　rest。　That　was　the　rationalization　he　needed；　the　conviction　that　whatever　he　had　been　was　far　less　than　his　enemies　wanted　the　world　to　believe；　for　they　would　not　use　him　otherwise。　He　was　the　Judas　goat；　his　death　to　take　the　place　of　another's。　If　he　could　only　see　that；　if　she　could　only　convince　him。　And　if　she　did　not；　she　would　lose　him。　They　would　take　him；　they　would　kill　him。
　They。
　'Who　are　you？'　she　screamed　at　the　window；　at　the　lights　of　Paris　outside。　'Where　are　you？'
　She　could　feel　a　cold　wind　against　her　face　as　surely　as　if　the　panes　of　glass　had　melted；　the　night　air　rushing　inside。　It　was　followed　by　a　tightening　in　her　throat；　and　for　a　moment　she　could　not　swallow。。。　could　not　breathe。　The　moment　passed　and　she　breathed　again。　She　was　afraid；　it　had　happened　to　her　before；　on　their　first　night　in　Paris；　when　she　had　left　the　cafe　to　find　him　on　the　steps　of　the　Cluny。　She　had　been　walking　rapidly　down　Saint…Michel　when　it　happened；　the　cold　wind；　the　swelling　of　the　throat。。。　at　that　moment　she　had　not　been　able　to　breathe。　Later　she　thought　she　knew　why；　at　that　moment　also；　several　blocks　away　inside　the　Sorbonne；　Jason　had　raced　to　a　judgment　that　in　minutes　he　would　reverse　…　but　he　had　reached　it　then。　He　had　made　up　his　mind　he　would　not　e　to　her。
　'Stop　it！'　she　cried。　'It's　crazy；'　she　added；　shaking　her　head；　looking　at　her　watch。　He