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小说: rl.thebourneidentity 字数: 每页4000字

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d this afternoon; if she were a direct relay to Carlos she should have been close to hysterics。 I saw her。 She wasn't; she behaved as if nothing had happened except a good day in the shop。'
 'But she was a relay; as you call it。 D'Amacourt explained that。 The fiche。'
 'Indirect。 She gets a phone call and is told what to say before making another call herself。' Actually; Jason thought; the invented assessment was based on reality。 Jacqueline Lavier was; indeed; an indirect relay。
 'You couldn't just walk around asking questions without seeming suspicious;' protested Marie。
 'You can;〃 answered Bourne; 'if you're an American writer doing an article on the boutiques in Saint…Honoree for a national magazine。'
 'That's very good; Jason。'
 'It worked。 No one wants to be left out。'
 'What did you learn?'
 'Like most of those kinds of places; Les Classiques has its own clientele; all wealthy; most known to each other and with the usual marital intrigues and adulteries that go with the scene。 Carlos knew what he was doing; it's a regular answering service over there; but not the kind listed in a phone book。'
 'People told you that?' asked Marie; holding his arms; watching his eyes。
 'Not in so many words;〃 he said; aware of the shadows of her disbelief。 'The accent was always on this Bergeron's talent; but one thing leads to another。 You can get the picture。 Everyone seems to gravitate to that manager。 From what I've gathered; she's a font of social information; although she probably couldn't tell me anything except that she did someone a favour … an acmodation … and that someone will turn out to be someone else who did another favour for another someone。 The source could be untraceable; but it's all I've got。'
 'Why the meeting tonight at the bastringue?'
 'He came over to me when I was leaving and said a very strange thing。' Jason did not have to invent this part of the lie。 He had read the words on a note in an elegant restaurant in Argenteuil less than an hour ago。 'He said; 〃You may be who you say you are; and then again; you may not。〃 That's when he suggested a drink later on; away from Saint…Honoree。' Bourne saw her doubts receding。 He had done it; she accepted the tapestry of lies。 And why not? He was a man of immense skill and extremely inventive。 The appraisal was not loathsome to him; he was Cain。
 'He may be the one; Jason。 You said you only needed one; he could be it!'
 'We'll see。' Bourne looked at his watch。 The countdown to his departure had begun; he could not look back。 'We've got almost two hours。 Where did you leave the attaché case?'
 'At the Meurice; I'm registered there。'
 'Let's pick it up and get some dinner。 You haven't eaten; have you?'
 'No。。。' Marie's expression was quizzical。 'Why not leave the case where it is? It's perfectly safe; we wouldn't have to worry about it。'
 'We would if we had to get out of here in a hurry;' he said almost brusquely; going to the bureau。 Everything was a question of degree now; traces of friction gradually slipping into speech; into looks; into touch。 Nothing alarming; nothing based in false heroics; she would see through such tactics。 Only enough so that later she would understand the truth when she read his words。 'It's over。 I've found my arrows;。。'
 'What's the matter; darling?'
 'Nothing。' The chameleon smiled。 'I'm just tired and probably a little discouraged。'
 'Good heavens; why? A man wants to meet you confidentially late at night; a man who operates a switchboard。 He could lead you somewhere! And you're convinced you've narrowed Carlos's contact down to this woman; she's bound to be able to tell you something … whether she wants to or not。 In a macabre way; I'd think you'd be elated。'
 'I'm not sure I can explain it;' said Jason; now looking at her reflection in the mirror。 'You'd have to understand what I found there。〃
 'What you found?' A question。
 'What I found。' A statement。 'It's a different world;〃 continued Bourne; reaching for the bottle of Scotch and a glass; 'different people。 It's soft and beautiful and frivolous; with lots of tiny spotlights and dark velvet。 Nothing's taken seriously except gossip and indulgence。 Any one of those giddy people … including that woman … could be a relay for Carlos and never know it; never even suspect it。 A man like Carlos would use such people; anyone like him would; including me。。。 That's what I found。 It's discouraging。'
 'And unreasonable。 Whatever you believe; those people make very conscious decisions。 That indulgence you talk of demands it; they think。 And you know what I think? I think you are tired; and hungry; and need a drink or two。 I wish you could put off tonight; you've been through enough for one day。'
 'I can't do that;' he said sharply。
 'All right; you can't;' she answered defensively。
 'Sorry; I'm edgy。'
 'Yes。 I know。' She started for the bathroom。 I'll freshen up and we can go。。。 Pour yourself a stiff one; darling。 Your teeth are showing。〃
 'Marie?〃
 'Yes?'
 Try to understand。 What I found there upset me。 I thought it would be different。 Easier。〃
 'While you were looking; I was waiting; Jason。 Not knowing。 That wasn't easy either。'
 'I thought you were going to call Canada。 Didn't you?。'
 She held her place for a moment。 'No;' she said。 'It was too late。'
 The bathroom door closed; Bourne walked to the desk across the room。 He opened the drawer; took out stationery; picked up the ballpoint pen; and wrote the words。
 It's over。 I've found my arrows。 Go back to Canada and say nothing for both our sakes。 I know where to reach you;
 He folded the stationery; inserted it into an envelope; holding the flap open as he reached for his wallet。 He took out both the French and the Swiss notes; slipping them behind the folded paper; and sealed the envelope。 He wrote on the front:
 Marie。
 He wanted so desperately to add:
 My love; my dearest love。
 He did not。 He could not。
 The bathroom door opened。 He put the envelope in his jacket pocket。 That was quick;' he said。
 'Was it? I didn't think so。 What are you doing?'
 'I wanted a pen;' he answered; picking up the ballpoint。 'If that fellow has anything to tell me I want to be able to write it down。'
 Marie was by the bureau; she glanced at the dry; empty glass。 'You didn't have your drink。'
 'I didn't use the glass。'
 'I see。 Shall we go?'
 They waited in the corridor for the rumbling lift; the silence between them awkward; in a real sense unbearable。 He reached for her hand。 At the touch she gripped his; staring at him; her eyes telling him that her control was being tested and she did not know why。 Quiet signals had been sent and received; not loud enough or abrasive enough to be alarms; but they were there and she heard them。 It was part of the countdown; rigid; irreversible; prelude to his departure。
 Oh; God; I love you so。 You are next to me and we are touching and I am dying。 But you cannot die with me。 You must not。 I am Cain。
 'We'll be fine;' he said。
 The metal cage vibrated noisily into its recessed perch。 Jason pulled the brass grille open; then suddenly swore under his breath。
 'Oh; Christ; I forgot!'
 'What?'
 'My wallet。 I left it in the bureau drawer this afternoon in case there was any trouble in Saint…Honoree。 Wait for me in the lobby。' He gently swung her through the gate; pressing the button with his free hand。 'I'll be right down。' He closed the grille; the brass latticework cutting off the sight of her startled eyes。 He turned away and walked rapidly back towards the room。
 Inside; he took the envelope out of his pocket and placed it against the base of the lamp on the bedside table。 He stared down at it; the ache unendurable。
 'Good…bye; my love;' he whispered。
 Bourne waited in the drizzle outside the Hotel Meurice on the rue de Rivoli; watching Marie through the glass doors of the entrance。 She was at the front desk; having signed for the attaché case which had been handed to her over the counter。 She was now obviously asking a mildly astonished clerk for her bill; about to pay for a room that had been occupied less than six hours。 Two minutes passed before the bill was presented。 Reluctantly; it was no way for a guest at the Meurice to behave。 Indeed; all Paris shunned such inhibited visitors。
 Marie walked out onto the pavement; joining him in the shadows and the mist…like drizzle to the left of the canopy。 She gave him the attaché case; a forced smile on her lips; a slight breathless quality in her voice。
 'That man didn't approve of me。 I'm sure he's convinced I used the room for a series of quick tricks。'
 'What did you tell him?' asked Bourne。
 'That my plans had changed; that's all。〃
 'Good; the less said the better。 Your name's on the registration card。 Think up a reason why you were there。'
 'Think up?。。。 I should think up a reason?' She studied his eyes; the smile gone。
 'I mean we'll think up a reason。 Naturally。'
 'Naturally。'
 'Let's go。' They started walking towards the corner; the traffic noisy in the street; the drizzle in the air fuller; the mist denser; the promise of heavy rain imminent。 He took her arm … not to guide her; not even out of courtesy … only to touch her; to hold a part of her。 There w

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