tc.patriotgames-第84节

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！


ven　keep　their　lights　on　reliably；　what　doubts　might　he　put　in　people's　heads　next？　America　was　a　society　of　things；　he　thought。　What　if　those　things　stopped　working？　What　then　would　people　think？　He　didn't　know　the　answer　to　that；　but　he　knew　that　something　would　change；　and　change　was　what　he　was　after。

Chapter　19　Tests　and　Passing　Grades

　　　　〃He　is　an　odd　duck；〃　Owens　observed。　The　dossier　was　the　result　of　three　weeks　of　work。　It　could　have　gone　faster；　of　course；　but　when　you　don't　want　the　news　of　an　inquiry　to　reach　its　subject；　you　had　to　be　more　circumspect。
　　　　Dennis　Cooley　was　a　Belfast　native；　born　to　a　middle…class　Catholic　family；　although　neither　of　his　deceased　parents　had　been　churchgoers；　something　decidedly　odd　in　a　region　where　religion　defines　both　life　and　death。　Dennis　had　attended　church　　a　necessity　for　one　who'd　been　educated　at　the　parish　school　　until　university；　then　stopped　at　once　and　never　gone　back。　No　criminal　record　at　all。　None。　Not　even　a　place　in　a　suspected　associates　file。　As　a　university　student　he'd　hung　around　the　fringes　of　a　few　activist　groups；　but　never　joined；　evidently　preferring　his　studies　in　literature。　He'd　graduated　with　the　highest　honors。　A　few　courses　in　Marxism；　a　few　more　in　economics；　always　with　a　teacher　whose　leanings　were　decidedly　left　of　center；　Owens　saw。　The　police　mander　snorted　to　himself。　There　were　enough　of　those　at　the　London　School　of　Economics；　weren't　there？
　　　　For　two　years　all　they　had　were　tax　records。　He'd　worked　in　his　father's　bookshop；　and　so　far　as　the　police　were　concerned；　simply　did　not　exist。　That　was　a　problem　with　police　work　　you　noticed　only　the　criminals。　A　few　very　discreet　inquiries　made　in　Belfast　hadn't　turned　up　anything。　All　sorts　of　people　had　visited　the　shop；　even　soldiers　of　the　British　Army；　who'd　arrived　there　about　the　time　Cooley　had　graduated　university。　The　shop's　window　had　been　smashed　once　or　twice　by　marauding　bands　of　Protestants　　the　reason　the　Army　had　been　called　in　in　the　first　place　　but　nothing　more　serious　than　that。　Young　Dennis　hadn't　frequented　the　local　pubs　enough　that　anyone　had　noticed；　hadn't　belonged　to　any　church　organization；　nor　any　political　club；　nor　any　sports　association。　〃He　was　always　reading　something；〃　someone　had　told　one　of　the　detectives。　There's　a　bloody　revelation；　Owens　told　himself。　A　bookshop　owner　who　reads　。　。　。　
　　　　Then　his　parents　had　died　in　an　auto　accident。
　　　　Owens　was　struck　by　the　fact　that　they'd　died　in　a　pletely　ordinary　way。　A　lorry's　brakes　had　failed　and　smashed　into　their　Mini　one　Saturday　afternoon。　It　was　hard　to　remember　that　some　people　in　Ulster　actually　died　〃normally；〃　and　were　just　as　dead　as　those　blown　up　or　shot　by　the　terrorists　who　prowled　the　night。　Dennis　Cooley　had　taken　the　insurance　settlement　and　continued　to　operate　the　store　as　before　after　the　quiet；　ill…attended　funeral　ceremony　at　the　local　church。　Some　years　later　he'd　sold　out　and　moved　to　London；　first　setting　up　a　shop　in　Knightsbridge　and　soon　thereafter　taking　over　a　shop　in　the　arcade　where　he　continued　to　do　business。
　　　　Tax　records　showed　that　he　made　a　fortable　living。　A　check　of　his　flat　showed　that　he　lived　within　his　means。　He　was　well　regarded　by　his　fellow　dealers。　His　one　employee；　Beatrix；　evidently　liked　working　with　him　part…time。　Cooley　had　no　friends；　still　didn't　frequent　local　pubs　　rarely　drank　at　all；　it　seemed　　lived　alone；　had　no　known　sexual　preferences；　and　traveled　a　good　deal　on　business。
　　　　〃He's　a　bloody　cipher；　a　zero；〃　Owens　said。
　　　　〃Yes；〃　Ashley　replied。　〃At　least　it　explains　where　Geoff　met　him　　he　was　a　lieutenant　with　one　of　the　first　regiments　to　go　over；　and　probably　wandered　into　the　shop　once　or　twice。　You　know　what　a　talker　Geoff　Watkins　is。　They　probably　started　talking　books　　can't　have　been　much　else。　I　doubt　that　Cooley　has　any　interest　beyond　that。〃
　　　　〃Yes；　I　believe　he's　what　the　Yanks　call　a　nerd。　Or　at　least　it's　an　image　he's　cultivating。　What　about　his　parents？〃　
　　　　Ashley　smiled。　〃They　are　remembered　as　the　local　munists。　Nothing　serious；　but　decidedly　bolshie　until　the　Hungarian　uprising　of　1956。　That　seems　to　have　disenchanted　them。　They　remained　outspokenly　left…wing；　but　their　political　activities　effectively　ended　then。　Actually　they're　remembered　as　rather　pleasant　people；　but　a　little　odd。　Evidently　they　encouraged　the　local　children　to　read　　made　good　business　sense；　if　nothing　else。　Paid　their　bills　on　time。　Other　than　that；　nothing。〃　
　　　　〃This　girl　Beatrix？〃
　　　　〃Somehow　she　got　an　education　from　our　state　schools。　Didn't　attend　university；　but　self…taught　in　literature　and　the　history　of　publishing。　Lives　with　her　elderly　father　　he's　a　retired　RAF　sergeant。　She　has　no　social　life。　She　probably　spends　her　evenings　watching　the　telly　and　sipping　Dubonnet。　She　rather　intensely　dislikes　the　Irish；　but　doesn't　mind　working　with　'Mr。　Dennis'　because　he's　an　expert　in　his　field。　Nothing　there　at　all。〃　
　　　　〃So；　we　have　a　dealer　in　rare　books　with　a　Marxist　family；　but　no　known　ties　with　any　terrorist　group；〃　Owens　summarized。　〃He　was　in　university　about　the　same　time　as　our　friend　O'Donnell；　wasn't　he？〃
　　　　〃Yes；　but　nobody　remembers　if　they　ever　met。　In　fact；　they　lived　only　a　few　streets　apart；　but　again　no　one　remembers　if　Kevin　ever　frequented　the　bookshop。〃　Ashley　shrugged。　〃That　goes　back　before　O'Donnell　attracted　any　serious　attention；　remember。　If　there　were　a　lead　of　some　sort　then；　it　was　never　documented。　They　shared　this　economics　instructor。　That　might　have　been　a　useful　lead；　but　the　chap　died　two　years　ago　　natural　causes。　Their　fellow　students　have　scattered　to　the　four　winds；　and　we've　yet　to　find　one　who　knew　both　of　them。〃
　　　　Owens　walked　to　the　corner　of　his　office　to　pour　a　cup　of　tea。　A　chap　with　a　Marxist　background　who　attended　the　same　school　at　the　same　time　as　O'Donnell。　Despite　the　total　lack　of　a　connection　with　a　terrorist　group；　it　was　enough　to　follow　up。　If　they　could　find　something　to　suggest　that　Cooley　and　O'Donnell　knew　each　other；　then　Cooley　was　the　likely　bridge　between　Watkins　and　the　ULA。　That　did　not　mean　there　was　any　evidence　to　suggest　the　link　was　real；　but　in　several　months　they　had　discovered　nothing　else　even　close。
　　　　〃Very　well；　David；　what　do　you　propose　to　do？〃　
　　　　〃We'll　plant　microphones　in　his　shop　and　his　home；　and　tap　all　of　his　telephone　calls；　of　course。　When　he　travels；　he'll　have　a　panion。〃
　　　　Owens　nodded　approval。　That　was　more　than　he　could　do　legally；　but　the　Security　Service　didn't　operate　under　the　same　rules　as　did　the　Metropolitan　Police。　〃How　about　watching　his　shop？〃　
　　　　〃Not　easy；　when　you　remember　where　it　is。　Still；　we　might　try　to　get　one　of　our　people　hired　in　one　of　the　neighboring　shops。〃　
　　　　〃The　one　opposite　his　is　a　jewelry　establishment；　isn't　it？〃
　　　　〃Nicholas　Reemer　and　Sons；〃　Ashley　nodded。　〃Owner　and　two　employees。〃
　　　　Owens　thought　about　that。　〃I　could　find　an　experienced　burglary　detective；　someone　knowledgeable　in　the　field　。　。　。　〃

　　　　〃Morning；　Jack；〃　Cantor　said。　
　　　　〃Hi；　Marty。〃
　　　　Ryan　had　given　up　on　the　satellite　photographs　weeks　before。　Now　he　was　trying　to　find　patterns　within　the　terrorist　network。　Which　group　had　connections　with　which　other？　Where　did　their　arms　e　from？　Where　did　they　train？　Who　helped　with　the　training？　Who　provided　the　money？　Travel　documents？　What　countries　did　they　use　for　safe　transits？
　　　　The　problem　with　these　questions　was　not　a　lack　of　information；　but　a　glut　of　it。　Literally　thousands　of　CIA　field　officers　and　their　agents；　plus　those　of　every　other　Western　intelligence　service；　were　scouring　the　world　for　such　information。　Many　of　the　agents　　foreign　nationals　recruited　and　paid　by　the　Agency　　would　make　reports　on　the　most　trivial　encounter　in　the　hope　of　delivering　The　One　Piece　of　Information　that　would　crack　open　Abu　Nidal；　or　Islamic　Jihad；　or　one　of　the　other　high…profile　groups；　for　a　substantial　reward。　The　result　was　thousands　of　muniques；　most　of　them　full　of　worthless　garbage　that　was　indistinguishable　from　the　one　or　two　nuggets　of　real　information。　Jack　had　not　realized　the　magnitude　of　the　problem。　The　people　working　on　this　were　all　talented；　but　they　were　being　overwhelmed　by　a　sea　of　raw　intelligence　data　that　had　to　be　graded；　collated；　and　cross…referenced　before　proper　analysis　could　begin。　The　difficulty　of　finding　any　single　organization　was　inversely　proportional　to　its　size；　and　some　of　these　groups　were　posed　of　a　mere　handful　of　people　　in　extreme　cases　posed　of　family　members　only。
　　　　〃Marty；〃　Jack　said；　looking　away　from　the　papers　on　his　desk；　〃this　is　the　closest　thing　to　impossible　I've　ever　seen。〃　
　　　　〃Maybe；　but　I've　e　to　deliver　a　well…done；〃　Cantor　replied。
　　　　〃What？〃
　　　　〃Remember　that　satellite　photo　of　the　girl　in　the　bikini？　The　French　think　they've　ID'd　her：　Francoise　Theroux。　Long；　dark　hair；　a　striking　figure；　and　she　was　thought　to　be　out　of　the　country　when　the　photo　was　made。　That　confirms　that　the　camp　belongs　to　Action…Directe。〃
　　　　〃So　who's　the　girl？〃
　　　　〃An　assassin；〃　Marty　replied。　He　handed　Jack　a　photograph　taken　at　closer　range。　〃And　a　good　one。　Three　suspected　kills；　two　politicians　and　an　indu