rl.thebourneidentity-第34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!
of timelessness。 It was a quiet resting place set down in the middle of a carnival; hanging onto its identity by accepting the times without joining them。
Jason closed the door; nodding to the white…haired bell boy whose indifference had turned to indulgence upon the receipt of a twenty…franc note。
'He thinks you're a provincial deacon flushed with a night's anticipation;' said Marie。 'I hope you noticed I went right to the bed。'
'His name is Herve; and he'll be very solicitous of our needs。 He has no intention of sharing the wealth。' He crossed to her and took her in his arms。 'Thanks for my life;' he said。
'Any time; my friend。' She reached up and held his face in her hands。 'But don't keep me waiting like that again。 I nearly went crazy; all I could think of was that someone had recognized you。。。 that something terrible had happened。'
'You forget; no one knows what I look like。'
'Don't count on that; it's not true。 There were four men in the Steppdeckstrasse; including that bastard on the Guisan Quai。 They're alive; Jason。 They saw you。〃
'Not really。 They saw a dark…haired man with bandages on his neck and head; who walked with a limp。 Only two were near me: the man on the first floor and that pig on the Guisan。 The first won't be leaving Zurich for a while; he can't walk and he hasn't much of a hand left。 The second had the beam of the torch in his eyes; it wasn't in mine。'
She released him; frowning; her alert mind questioning。 〃You can't be sure。 They were there; they did see you。'
Change your hair。。。 you change your face。 Geoffrey Wash…burn; lie de Port Noir。
'I repeat; they saw a dark…haired man in shadows。 How good are you with a weak solution of peroxide?'
'I've never used it。'
〃Then I'll find a shop in the morning。 The Montparnasse is the place for it Blonds have more fun; isn't that what they say?'
She studied his face。 'I'm trying to imagine what you'll look like。'
'Different。 Not much; but enough。'
'You may be right。 I hope to God you are。 She kissed his cheek; her prelude to discussion。 'Now; tell me what happened。 Where did you go? What did you learn about that。。。 incident six months ago?'
'It wasn't six months ago; and because it wasn't I couldn't have killed him。' He told her everything; save for the few brief moments when he thought he would never see her again。 He did not have to; she said it for him。
'If that date hadn't been so clear in your mind; you wouldn't have e to me; would you?'
He shook his head。 'Probably not!
'I knew it。 I felt it。 For a minute; while I was walking from the cafe to the museum steps; I could hardly breathe。 It was as though I were suffocating。 Can you believe that?'
'I don't want to。'
'Neither do I; but it happened。'
They were sitting; she on the bed he in the single armchair close by。 He reached for her hand。 'I'm still not sure I should be here。。。 I knew that man; I saw his face; I was in Marseilles forty…eight hours before he was killed!'
'But you didn't kill him。'
Then why was I there? Why do people think I did! Christ; it's insane I' He sprang up from the chair; pain back in his eyes。 'But then I forgot I'm not sane; am I? Because I've forgotten。。。 Years; a lifetime。'
Marie spoke matter…of…factly; no passion in her voice。 The answers will e to you。 From one source or another; finally from yourself。'
That may not be possible。 Washburn said it was like blocks rearranged; different tunnels。。。 different windows?〃 Jason walked to the window; bracing himself on the sill; looking down on the lights of Montparnasse。 The views aren't the same; they never will be。 Somewhere out there are people I know; who know me。 A couple of thousand miles away are other people I care about and don't care about。。。 Or; oh God; maybe a wife and children; I don't know。 I keep spinning around in the wind; turning over and over and I can't get down to the ground。 Every time I try I'm thrown back up again。'
'Into the sky?' asked Marie。
'Yes。'
'You've jumped from a plane;〃 she said; making a statement。
Bourne turned。 'I never told you that〃
〃You talked about it in your sleep the other night You were sweating; your face was flushed and hot and I had to wipe it with a towel。'
'Why didn't you say anything?!
'I did; in a way。 I asked you if you were a pilot; or if…flying bothered you。 Especially at night。'
'I didn't know what you were talking about。 Why didn't you press me?〃
'I was afraid to。 You were very close to hysterics; and I'm not trained in things like that。 I can help you try to remember; but I can't deal with your unconscious。 I don't think anyone should but a doctor。'
'A doctor? I was with a doctor for damn near six months。'
'From what you've said about him; I think another opinion is called for。'
'I don't!' he replied; confused by his own anger。
'Why not?! Marie got up from the bed。 'You need help; my darling。 A psychiatrist might。。。'
'No!' He shouted in spite of himself; furious with himself。 'I won't do that。 I can't。'
'Please; tell me why?' she asked calmly; standing in front of him。
'I。。。I。。。can't do it'
'Just tell me why; that's all。!
Bourne stared at her; then turned and looked out of the window again; his hands on the sill again。 'Because I'm afraid。 Someone lied; and I was grateful for that more than I can tell you。 But suppose there aren't any more lies; suppose the rest is true。 What do I do then?
'Are you saying you don't want to find out?'
'Not that way。' He stood up and leaned against the window frame; his eyes still on the lights below。 Try to understand me;' he said。 'I have to know certain things。。。 enough to make a decision。。。 but maybe not everything。 A part of me has to be able to walk away; 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。' He turned back to her。 'What I'm trying to tell you is that maybe it's better this way。'
〃You want evidence; but not proof; is that what you're saying?'
'I want arrows pointing in one direction or the other; telling me whether to run or not to run。〃
Telling you。 What about us?
'That'll e with the arrows; won't it? You know that。'
'Then let's find them;' she replied。
'Be careful。 You may not be able to live with what's out there。 I mean that。'
'I can live with you。 And I mean that。' She reached up and touched his face。 'e on。 It's barely five o'clock in Ontario; and I can still reach Peter at the office。 He can start the Tread…stone search。。。 and give us the name of someone here at the embassy who can help us if we need him。'
'You're going to tell Peter you're in Paris?!
'He'll know it anyway from the operator; but the call won't be traceable to this hotel。 And don't worry; I'll keep everything 〃in…house〃; even casual。 I came to Paris for a few days because my relatives in Lyons were simply too dull。 He'll accept that。'
'Would he know someone at the embassy here?〃
'Peter makes it a point to know someone everywhere。 It's one of his more useful but less attractive traits。'
'Sounds like he will。' Bourne got their coats。 'After your call we'll have dinner。 I think we could both use a drink。'
'Let's go past the bank on rue Madeleine。 I want to see something。'
'What can you see at night?! 'A telephone TJOX。 I hope there's one nearby。〃 There was。 Diagonally across the street from the entrance。
The tall blond man wearing tortoise…shell glasses checked his watch under the afternoon sun on the rue Madeleine。 The pavements were crowded; the traffic in the street unreasonable; as most traffic was in Paris。 He entered the telephone box and untangled the telephone which had been hanging free of its cradle; the line knotted。 It was a courteous sign to the next would…be user that the phone was out of mission; it reduced the chance that the box would be occupied。 It had worked。
He glanced at his watch again; the time span had begun。 Marie inside the bank。 She would call within the next few minutes。 He took several coins from his pocket; put them on the ledge; and leaned against the glass panel; his eyes on the bank across the street。 A cloud diminished the sunlight and he could see his reflection in the glass。。 He approved of what he saw; recalling the startled reaction of a hairdresser in Montparnasse who had sequestered him in a curtained booth while performing the blond transformation。 The cloud passed; the sunlight returned; and the telephone rang。
'It's you?' asked Marie St Jacques。
'It's me;' said Bourne。
'Make sure you get the name and the location of the office。 And rough up your French。 Mispronounce a few words so he knows you're American。 Tell him you're not used to the telephones in Paris。 Then do everything in sequence。 I'll call you back in exactly five minutes。〃
'Clock's on。'
'What?'
'Nothing。 I mean; let's go。〃
'All right。。。 The clock is on。 Good luck。!
Thanks。' Jason depressed the lever; released it; and dialled the number he had memorized。
'La Banque de Valois。 Ban jour。'
'I need assistance;' said Bourne; continuing with the approximate words Marie had told him to use。 'I recently transferred