rl.thebourneidentity-第96部分

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　'Explain　that；'　said　Crawford　harshly。
　'You're　not　dealing　with　a　madman；　or　with　insanity；　or　with　any　goddamned　multiple　schizophrenia；　which　I　doubt　you　know　any　more　about　than　I　do。　You're　dealing　with　an　amnesiac；　a　man　who's　been　trying　for　six　months　to　find　out　who　he　is　and　where　he　es　from。　And　from　a　telephone　tape　we've　got　over　here；　we　gather　he　tried　to　tell　you　…　tried　to　tell　Conklin；　but　Conklin　wouldn't　listen。　None　of　you　would　listen。。。　You　sent　a　man　out　in　deep　cover　for　three　years　…　three　years　…　to　pull　in　Carlos；　and　when　the　strategy　broke；　you　assumed　the　worst。'
　'Amnesia？。。。　No；　you're　wrong！　I　spoke　to　Conklin；　he　did　listen。　You　don't　understand；　we　both　knew。。。'
　'I　don't　want　to　hear　his　name！'　broke　in　the　director　of　Consular　Operations。
　The　general　paused。　'We　both　knew。。。　Bourne。。。　years　ago。　I　think　you　know　from　where；　you　read　the　name　to　me。　He　was　the　strangest　man　I　ever　met；　as　close　to　being　paranoid　as　anyone　in　that　outfit。　He　undertook　missions　…risks　…　no　sane　man　would　accept。　Yet　he　never　asked　for　anything。　He　was　filled　with　so　much　hate。'
　'And　that　made　him　a　candidate　for　a　psychiatric　ward　ten　years　later？'
　'Seven　years；'　corrected　Crawford。　'I　tried　to　prevent　his　selection　in　Treadstone。　But　the　Monk　said　he　was　the　best。　I　couldn't　argue　with　that；　not　in　terms　of　expertise。　But　I　made　my　objections　known。　He　was　psychologically　a　borderline　case；　we　knew　why。　I　was　proved　right。　I　stand　on　that'
　'You're　not　going　to　stand　on　anything；　General。　You're　going　to　fall　right　on　your　iron　ass。　Because　the　Monk　was　right。　Your　man　is　the　best；　with　or　without　a　memory。　He's　bringing　in　Carlos；　delivering　him　right　to　your　goddamn　front　door。　That　is；　he's　bringing　him　in　unless　you　kill　Bourne　first。'　Crawford's　low；　sharp　intake　of　breath　was　precisely　what　the　director　was　afraid　he　might　hear。　He　continued。　'You　can't　reach　Conklin；　can　you？'　he　asked。
　'No。'
　'He's　gone　under；　hasn't　he？　Made　his　own　arrangements；　payments　funnelled　through　third　and　fourth　parties　unknown　to　each　other；　the　source　untraceable；　all　connections　to　the　agency　and　Treadstone　obliterated。　And　by　now　there　are　photographs　in　the　hands　of　men　Conklin　doesn't　know；　wouldn't　recognize　if　they　held　him　up。　Don't　talk　to　me　about　firing　squads。　Yours　is　in　place　but　you　can't　see　it；　you　don't　know　where　it　is。　But　it's　prepared；　a　half　a　dozen　rifles　ready　to　fire　when　the　condemned　man　es　into　view。　Am　I　reading　the　scenario？'
　'You　don't　expect　me　to　answer　that；'　said　Crawford。
　'You　don't　have　to。　This　is　Consular　Operations；　I've　been　there　before。　But　you　were　right　about　one　thing。　This　is　your　problem；　it's　right　back　in　your　court。　We're　not　going　to　be　touched　by　you。　That's　my　remendation　to　the　Secretary。　The　State　Department　can't　afford　to　know　who　you　are。　Consider　this　call　unlogged。'
　'Understood。'
　'I'm　sorry；'　said　the　director；　meaning　it；　hearing　the　futility　in　the　general's　voice。　'It　all　blows　up　sometimes。'
　'Yes。　We　learned　that　in　Medusa。　What　are　you　going　to　do　with　the　girl？'
　'We　don't　even　know　what　we're　going　to　do　with　you　yet。'
　That's　easy。　Eisenhower　at　the　summit。　What　U…Twos？　We'll　go　along；　no　preliminary　summation。　Nothing。。。　We　can　get　the　girl　off　the　Zurich　books。'
　'We'll　tell　her。　It　may　help。　We'll　be　making　apologies　all　over　the　place；　with　her　we'll　try　for　a　very　substantial　settlement。'
　'Are　you　sure？'　interrupted　Crawford。
　'About　the　settlement？'
　'No。　The　amnesia。　Are　you　positive？'
　'I've　listened　to　that　tape　at　least　twenty　times；　heard　her　voice。　I've　never　been　so　sure　of　anything　in　my　life。　Incidentally；　she　got　in　several　hours　ago。　She's　at　the　Pierre　Hotel　under　guard。　We'll　bring　her　down　to　Washington　in　the　morning　after　we　work　out　what　we're　going　to　do。'
　'Wait　a　minute。'　The　general's　voice　rose。　'Not　tomorrow！　She's　here。。。　Can　you　get　me　clearance　to　see　her？'
　'Don't　dig　that　grave　of　yours　any　deeper；　General。　The　fewer　names　she　knows；　the　better。　She　was　with　Bourne　when　he　was　calling　the　embassy；　she's　aware　of　the　First　Secretary；　probably　Conklin　by　now。　He　may　have　to　take　the　fall　himself。　Stay　out　of　it。'
　'You　just　told　me　to　play　it　out。'
　'Not　this　way。　You're　a　decent　man；　so　am　I。　We're　professionals。'
　'You　don't　understand！　We　have　photographs；　yes；　but　they　may　be　useless。　They're　three　years　old；　and　Bourne's　changed；　changed　drastically。　It's　why　Conklin's　on　the　scene　…　where　I　don't　know　…　but　he's　there。　He's　the　only　one　who's　seen　him；　but　it　was　night；　raining。　She　may　be　our　only　chance。　She's　been　with　him　…　living　with　him　for　weeks；　she　knows　him。　It's　possible　that　she'd　recognize　him　before　anyone　else。'
　'I　don't　understand。'
　'I'll　spell　it　out。　Among　Bourne's　many；　many　talents　is　the　ability　to　change　his　appearance；　melt　into　a　crowd　or　a　field　or　a　cluster　of　trees　…　be　where　you　can't　see　him。　If　what　you　say　is　so；　he　wouldn't　remember；　but　we　used　to　have　a　word　for　him　in　Medusa。　His　men　used　to　call　him。。。　a　chameleon。'
　'That's　your　Cain；　General。'
　'It　was　our　Delta。　There　was　no　one　like　him。。。　And　that's　why　the　girl　can　help。　Now。　Clear　me！　Let　me　see　her；　talk　to　her。'
　'By　clearing　you；　we　acknowledge　you。　I　don't　think　we　can　do　that。'
　'For　God's　sake；　you　just　said　we　were　decent　men！　Are　we？　We　can　save　his　life！　Maybe。　If　she's　with　me　and　we　find　him；　we　can　get　him　out　of　there！'
　'There？　Are　you　telling　me　you　know　exactly　where　he's　going　to　be？'
　'Yes。'
　'How？'
　'Because　he　wouldn't　go　anywhere　else。'
　'And　the　time　span？'　asked　the　incredulous　director　of　Consular　Operations。　'You　know　when　he's　going　to　be　there？'
　'Yes。　Today。　It's　the　date　of　his　own　execution。'
　Rock　music　blared　from　the　transistor　radio　with　tin…like　vibrations　as　the　long…haired　driver　of　the　Yellow　Cab　slapped　his　hand　against　the　rim　of　the　steering　wheel　and　jolted　his　jaw　with　the　beat。　The　taxi　edged　east　on　Seventy…first　Street；　locked　into　the　line　of　cars　that　began　at　the　exit　on　the　East　River　Drive。　Tempers　flared　as　engines　roared　in　place　and　cars　lurched　forward　only　to　slam　to　sudden　stops；　inches　away　from　bumpers　in　front。　It　was　8。45　in　the　morning；　New　York's　rush　hour　traffic　as　usual　a　contradiction　in　syntax。
　Bourne　wedged　himself　into　the　corner　of　the　back　seat　and　stared　at　the　tree…lined　street　beneath　the　rim　of　his　hat　and　through　the　dark　lenses　of　his　sun　glasses。　He　had　been　there；　it　was　all　indelible。　He　had　walked　the　pavements；　seen　the　doorways　and　the　shopfronts　and　the　walls　covered　with　ivy　…so　out　of　place　in　the　city；　yet　so　right　for　this　street。　He　had　glanced　up　before　and　had　noticed　the　roof　gardens　before；　relating　them　to　a　gracious　garden　several　blocks　away　towards　the　park；　beyond　a　pair　of　elegant　French　doors　at　the　far　end　of　a　large。。。　plicated。。。　room。　That　room　was　inside　a　tall；　narrow　building　of　brown；　jagged　stone；　with　a　column　of　wide；　lead…paned　windows　rising　three　storeys　above　the　pavement。　Windows　made　of　thick　glass　that　refracted　light　both　inside　and　out　in　subtle　flashes　of　purple　and　blue。　Antique　glass；　perhaps；　ornamental　glass。。。　bullet…proof　glass。　A　brown　stone　residence　with　a　set　of　thick　outside　steps。　They　were　odd　steps；　unusual　steps；　each　level　criss…crossed　with　black　ridges　that　protruded　above　the　surface；　protecting　the　descender　from　the　elements。　Shoes　going　down　would　not　slip　on　ice　or　snow。。。　and　the　weight　of　anyone　climbing　up　would　trigger　electronic　devices　inside。
　Jason　knew　that　house；　knew　they　were　ing　closer　to　it　The　echo　in　his　chest　accelerated　and　became　louder　as　they　entered　the　block。　He　would　see　it　any　moment；　and　as　he　held　his　wrist　he　knew　why　Pare　Monceau　had　struck　such　chords　in　his　mind's　eye。　That　small　part　of　Paris　was　so　much　like　this　short　stretch　of　the　upper　east　side。　Except　for　an　isolated　intrusion　of　an　unkempt　stoop　or　an　ill…conceived　white…washed　facade；　they　could　be　identical　blocks。
　He　thought　of　Andrel　Villiers。　He　had　written　down　everything　he　could　remember　since　a　memory　had　been　given　him　in　the　pages　of　a　notebook　hastily　purchased　at　Orly　Airport。　From　the　first　moment　when　a　living；　bullet…ridden　man　had　opened　his　eyes　in　a　humid；　dingy　room　on　lie　de　Port　Noir　through　the　frightening　revelations　of　Marseilles；　Zurich　and　Paris　…　especially　Paris；　where　the　spectre　of　an　assassin's　mantle　had　fallen　over　his　shoulders；　the　expertise　of　a　killer　proven　to　be　his。　By　any　standards；　it　was　a　confession；　as　damning　in　what　it　could　not　explain　as　in　what　it　described。　But　it　was　the　truth　as　he　knew　the　truth；　infinitely　more　exculpatory　after　his　death　than　before。　In　the　hands　of　Andrel　Villiers　it　would　be　used　well；　the　right　decisions　would　be　made　for　Marie　St　Jacques。　That　knowledge　gave　him　the　freedom　he　needed　now。　He　had　sealed　the　pages　in　an　envelope　and　mailed　it　to　Pare　Monceau　from　Kennedy　Airport。　By　the　time　it　reached　Paris　he　would　be　alive　or　he　would　be　dead；　he　would　kill　Carlos　or　Carlos　would　kill　him。　Somewhere　on　that　street　…　so　like　a　street　thousands　of　miles　away　…　a　man　whose　shoulders　floated　rigidly　above　a　tapered　waist　would　e　after　him。　It　was　the　only　thing　he　was　absolutely　sure　of；　he　would　do　the　same。　Somewhere　on　that　street。。。
　There　it　was！　It　was　there；　the　morning　sun　bouncing　off　the　black　enamelled　door　and　the　shiny　brass；　penetrating　the　thick；　lead…paned　windows　that　rose　like　a　wide　column　of　glistening；　purplish　blue；　emphasizing　the　ornamental　splendour　of　the　glass；　but　not　its　resistance　to　the　impacts　of　high…powered　rifles　and　heavy　calibred　automatic　weapons。　He　was　here；　and　for　reasons　…　emotions　he　could　not　define；　his　eyes　began　to　tear　and　there　was　a　swelling　in　his　throat。　He　had　the　incredible　feeling　that　he　had　e　back　to　a　place　that　was　as　much　a　part　of　him　as　his　body　or　what　was　left　of　his　mind。　Not　a　home；　there　was　no　fort；　no　serenity　in　looking　at　that　elegant　east…side　residence。　But　there　was　something　else　…an　overpowering　sensation　of　…　return。　He　was　back　at　the　beginning；　the　beginning；　at　both　departure　and　creation；　black　night　and　bursting　dawn。　Something　was　happening　to　him；　h