rl.thebourneidentity-第56部分

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　'It's　at　the　end。　It　mentions　the　killing　at　the　Gemeinschaft；　the　bolt　that　got　us　off　our　asses　two　weeks　ago。'
　'It　does？'　Abbott　turned　the　page。
　'Look　at　it　Last　couple　of　sentences。　See　what　I　mean？'
　'Not　exactly；'　replied　Abbott；　frowning。　This　merely　states　that　Koenig　was　employed　by　the　Gemeinschaft　where　a　recent　homicide　took　place。。。　and　he　had　been　a　witness　to　the　initial　gunfire。　That's　all。'
　'I　don't　think　it　is　〃all〃；'　said　Webb。　'I　think　there　was　more。　Someone　started　to　raise　a　question；　but　it　was　left　hanging。　I'd　like　to　find　out　who　has　his　red　pencil　on　the　Zurich　police　reports。　He　could　be　Carlos's　man；　we　know　he's　got　one　there。'
　The　Monk　leaned　back　in　the　chair；　his　frown　unrelieved。　'Assuming　you're　right；　why　wasn't　the　entire　reference　deleted？'
　Too　obvious。　The　killing　did　take　place；　Koenig　was　a　witness；　the　investigating　officer　who　wrote　up　the　report　might　legitimately　ask　why。'
　'But　if　he　had　speculated　on　a　connection　wouldn't　he　be　just　as　disturbed　that　the　speculation　was　deleted？'
　'Not　necessarily。　We're　talking　about　a　bank　in　Switzerland。　Certain　areas　are　officially　inviolable；　unless　there's　proof。'
　'Not　always。　I　understand　you　were　very　successful　with　the　newspapers。'
　'Unofficially。　I　appealed　to　prurient　journalistic　sensationalism；　and　…　although　it　damn　near　killed　him　…　got　Walther　Apfel　to　corroborate　halfway。'
　'Interruption；'　said　Elliot　Stevens。　'I　think　this　is　where　the　Oval　office　has　to　e　in。　I　assume　by　the　newspapers　you're　referring　to　the　Canadian　woman。'
　'Not　really。　That　story　was　already　out；　we　couldn't　stop　it。　Carlos　is　wired　into　the　Zurich　police；　they　issued　that　report。　We　simply　enlarged　on　it　and　tied　her　to　an　equally　false　story　about　millions　having　been　stolen　from　the　Gemeinschaft。'　Webb　paused　and　looked　at　Abbott。　'That's　something　we　have　to　talk　about；　it　may　not　be　false　after　all。'　'I　can't　believe　that；'　said　the　Monk。　'I　don't　want　to　believe　it；'　replied　the　major。　'Ever。'　'Would　you　mind　backing　up？'　asked　the　White　House　aide；　sitting　down　opposite　the　army　officer。　'I　have　to　get　this　very　clear。'
　'Let　me　explain；'　broke　in　Abbott；　seeing　the　bewilderment　on　Webb's　face。　'Elliot's　here　on　orders　from　the　President　It's　the　killing　at　the　Ottawa　airport。'
　'It's　an　unholy　mess；'　said　Stevens　bluntly。　The　Prime　Minister　damn　near　told　the　President　to　take　our　stations　out　of　Nova　Scotia。　He's　one　angry　Canadian。'　'How　did　it　e　down？'　asked　Webb。　'Very　badly。　All　they　know　is　that　a　ranking　economist　at　the　Department　of　Finance　made　discreet　inquiries　about　an　unlisted　American　corporation　and　got　himself　killed　for　it。　To　make　matters　worse；　Canadian　Intelligence　was　told　to　stay　out　of　it；　it　was　a　highly　sensitive　U。　S。　operation。'　'Who　the　hell　did　that？'
　'I　believe　I've　heard　the　name　Iron　Ass　bandied　about　here　and　there；'　said　Monk。
　'General　Crawford？　Stupid　son　of　a　bitch。。。　Stupid　iron…assed　son　of　a　bitch！'
　'Can　you　imagine？'　interjected　Stevens。　'Their　man　gets　killed　and　we　have　the　gall　to　tell　them　to　stay　out。'
　'He　was　right；　of　course；'　corrected　Abbott。　'It　had　to　be　done　swiftly；　no　room　for　misunderstanding。　A　clamp　had　to　be　put　on　instantly；　the　shock　sufficiently　outrageous　to　stop　everything。　It　gave　me　time　to　reach　Mackenzie　Hawkins　…Mac　and　I　worked　together　in　Burma；　he's　retired；　but　they　listen　to　him。　They're　co…operating　now　and　that's　the　important　thing；　isn't　it？'
　'There　are　other　considerations；　Mr　Abbott；'　protested　Stevens。
　They're　on　different　levels；　Elliot　We　working　stiffs　aren't　on　them；。　we　don't　have　to　spend　time　over　diplomatic　posturing。　I'll　grant　you　those　postures　are　necessary；　but　they　don't　concern　us。'
　They　do　concern　the　President；　sir。　They're　part　of　his　every　working…stiff　day。　And　that's　why　I　have　to　go　back　with　a　very　clear　picture。'　Stevens　paused；　turning　to　Webb。　'Now；　please；　let　me　have　it　again。　Exactly　what　did　you　do　and　why？　What　part　did　we　play　regarding　this　Canadian　woman？'
　'Initially　not　a　goddamn　thing；　that　was　Carlos's　move。　Someone　very　high　up　in　the　Zurich　police　is　on　Carlos's　payroll。　It　was　the　Zurich　police　who　mocked　up　the　so…called　evidence　linking　her　to　the　three　killings。　And　it's　ludicrous；　she's　no　killer。'
　'All　right；　all　right；'　said　the　aide。　That　was　Carlos。　Why　did　he　do　it？　V。
　To　flush　out　Bourne。　The　St　Jacques　woman　and　Bourne　are　together。'
　'Bourne　being　this　assassin　who　calls　himself　Cain；　correct？'
　'Yes；'　said　Webb。　'Carlos　has　sworn　to　kill　him。　Cain's　moved　in　on　Carlos　all　over　Europe　and　the　Middle　East；　but　there's　no　photograph　of　Cain；　no　one　really　knows　what　he　looks　like。　So　by　circulating　a　picture　of　the　woman　…　and　let　me　tell　you；　it's　in　every　damn　newspaper　over　there　…　someone　may　spot　her。　If　she's　found；　the　chances　are　that　Cain　…Bourne　…　will　be　found　too。　Carlos　will　kill　them　both。'
　'All　right。　Again；　that's　Carlos。　Now　what　did　you　do？'
　'Just　what　I　said。　Reached　the　Gemeinschaft　and　persuaded　the　bank　into　confirming　the　fact　that　the　woman　might　…　just　might　…　be　tied　with　a　massive　theft。　It　wasn't　easy；　but　it　was　their　man　Koenig　who'd　been　bribed；　not　one　of　our　people。　That's　an　internal　matter；　they　wanted　a　lid　on　it。　Then　I　called　the　papers　and　referred　them　to　Walther　Apfel。　Mysterious　woman；　murder；　millions　stolen；　the　editors　leaped　at　it。'
　'For　Christ's　sake；　why？'　shouted　Stevens。　'You　used　a　citizen　of　another　country　for　a　U。　S。　intelligence　strategy！　A　service　staff　employee　of　a　closely　allied　government。　Are　you　out　of　your　minds？　You　only　exacerbated　the　situation。　You　sacrificed　her！'
　'You're　wrong；〃　said　Webb。　〃We're　trying　to　save　her　life。　We've　turned　Carlos's　weapon　against　him。'
　'How？'
　The　Monk　raised　his　hand。　〃Before　we　answer　we　have　to　go　back　to　another　question；'　he　said。　〃Because　the　answer　to　that　may　give　you　an　indication　of　how　restricted　the　information　must　remain。　A　moment　ago　I　asked　the　major　how　Carlos's　man　could　have　found　Bourne　…　found　the　fiche　that　identified　Bourne　as　Cain。　I　think　I　know；　but　I　want　him　to　tell　you。'
　Webb　leaned　forward。　〃The　Medusa　records；'　he　said　quietly；　reluctantly。
　〃Medusa。。。？'　Stevens's　expression　conveyed　the　fact　that　Medusa　had　been　the　subject　of　early　White　House　confidential　briefings。　'They're　buried；〃　he　said。
　'Correction；'　intruded　Abbott。　'There's　an　original　and　two　copies　and　they're　in　vaults　at　the　Pentagon；　the　C。I。A。　and　the　National　Security　Council。　Access　to　them　is　limited　to　a　select　group；　each　one　among　the　highest　ranking　members　of　his　unit。　Bourne　came　out　of　Medusa；　a　cross…checking　of　those　names　with　the　bank　records　would　produce　his　name。　Someone　gave　them　to　Carlos。'
　Stevens　stared　at　the　Monk。　'Are　you　saying　that　Carlos　is。。。　wired　into。。。　men　like　that？　It's　an　extraordinary　charge。'　〃It's　the　only　explanation；'　said　Webb。　〃But　why　would　Bourne　ever　use　his　own　name？'　〃It　was　necessary；'　replied　Abbott。　〃It　was　a　vital　part　of　the　portrait。　It　had　to　be　authentic；　everything　had　to　be　authentic。　Everything。'　'Authentic？'
　'Maybe　you'll　understand　now；'　continued　the　major。　'By　tying　the　St　Jacques　woman　into　millions　supposedly　stolen　from　the　Gemeinschaft　Bank；　we're　telling　Bourne　to　surface。　He　knows　it's　false。'
　'Bourne　to　surface！'
　The　man　called　Jason　Bourne；'　said　Abbott；　getting　to　his　feet　and　walking　slowly　towards　the　drawn　curtains；　'is　an　American　intelligence　officer。　There　is　no　Cain；　not　the　one　Carlos　believes。　He's　a　lure；　a　trap　for　Carlos：　that's　who　he　is。　Or　was。'
　The　silence　was　brief；　broken　by　the　White　House　man。　'I　think　you'd　better　explain。　The　President　has　to　know。'
　'I　suppose　so；'　mused　Abbott；　parting　the　curtains；　looking　absently　outside。　'It's　an　insoluble　dilemma；　really。　Presidents　change；　different　men　with　different　temperaments　and　appetites　sit　in　the　Oval　office。　However；　a　long…range　intelligence　strategy　doesn't　change；　not　one　like　this。　Yet　an　offhand　remark　over　a　glass　of　whisky　in　a　post…presidential　conversation；　or　an　egotistical　phrase　in　a　memoir；　can　blow　that　same　strategy　right　to　hell。　There　isn't　a　day　that　we　don't　worry　about　those　men　who　have　survived　the　White　House。'
　'Please；'　interrupted　Stevens。　'I　ask　you　to　remember　that　I'm　here　on　the　orders　of　this　President。　Whether　you　approve　or　disapprove　doesn't　matter。　He　has　the　right　by　law　to　know；　and　in　his　name　I　insist　on　that　right。'
　'Very　well；'　said　Abbott　still　looking　outside。　'Three　years　ago　we　borrowed　a　page　from　the　British。　We　created　a　man　who　never　was。　If　you　recall；　prior　to　the　Normandy　invasion　British　Intelligence　floated　a　corpse　into　the　coast　of　Portugal；　knowing　that　whatever　documents　were　concealed　on　it　would　find　their　way　to　the　German　Embassy　in　Lisbon。　A　life　was　created　for　that　dead　body；　a　name；　a　naval　officer's　rank；　schools；　training；　travel　orders；　driver's　licence；　membership　cards　of　exclusive　London　clubs；　and　half　a　dozen　personal　letters。　Scattered　throughout　were　hints；　vaguely　worded　allusions　and　a　few　very　direct　chronological　and　geographical　references。　They　all　pointed　to　the　invasion　taking　place　a　hundred　miles　away　from　the　beaches　at　Normandy　and　six　weeks　off　the　target　date　in　June。　After　panicked　checks　were　made　by　German　agents　all　over　England　controlled；　incidentally　and　monitored　by　M。I。5。　…　the　High　mand　in　Berlin　bought　the　story　and　shifted　a　large　part　of　their　defences。　As　many　were　lost；　thousands　upon　thousands　of　lives　were　saved　by　that　man　who　never　was。'　Abbott　let　the　curtain　fall　into　place　and　walked　wearily　back　to　his　chair。
　'I　heard　the　story；'　said　the　White　House　aide。　'And？'　'Ours　was　a　variation；　I　said　the　Monk；　sitting　down　wearily。　'Create　a　living　man；　a　quickly　established　legend；　seemingly　everywhere　at　once；　racing　all　over　South…east　Asia；　outdoing　Carlos　at　every　turn；　especially　in　the　area　of　sheer　numbers。　Whenever　there　was　a　killing；　or　an　unexplained　death；　or　a　prominent　figure　involved　in　a　fatal　accident；　there　was　Cain。　Wherever　there　was　violence　and　homicide；　we　tied　in　Cain。　Reliable　sources　…　paid　informants　known　for　accuracy　…　were　fed　his　name：　embassies；　l