cpatricia.blacknotice-第52节

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to　you。〃
　　〃Maybe　it　wouldn't　be　the　worst　thing。　But　pretty　close；〃　he　said。
　　　
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　　Interpol's　headquarters　stood　alone　on　the　Parc　de　la　Téte　d'Or。　It　was　a　fortress　of　reflective　pools　and　glass　and　did　not　look　like　what　it　was。　I　was　certain　the　subtle　signs　of　what　went　on　inside　were　missed　by　virtually　all　who　drove　past。　The　name　of　the　plantanne　tree…lined　street　where　it　was　located　wasn't　posted；　so　if　you　didn't　know　where　you　were　going；　you　quite　likely　would　never　get　there。　There　was　no　sign　out　front　announcing　Interpol。　In　fact；　there　were　no　signs　anywhere。
　　Satellite　dishes；　antennas；　concrete　barricades　and　cameras　were　very　hard　to　see；　and　the　razor　wire…topped　green　metal　fence　was　well　disguised　by　landscaping。　The　secretariat　for　the　only　international　police　organization　in　the　world　silently　emanated　enlightenment　and　peace；　appropriately　allowing　those　who　worked　inside　to　look　out　and　no　one　to　look　in。　On　this　overcast；　cold　morning；　a　small　Christmas　tree　on　the　roof　ironically　tipped　its　hat　to　the　holidays。
　　I　saw　no　one　when　I　pressed　the　inter　button　on　the　front　gate　to　say　we　had　arrived。　Then　a　voice　asked　us　to　identify　ourselves　and　when　we　did；　a　lock　clicked　free。　Marino　and　I　followed　a　sidewalk　to　an　outbuilding；　where　another　lock　released；　and　we　were　met　by　a　guard　in　suit　and　tie　who　looked　strong　enough　to　snatch　up　Marino　and　hurl　him　back　to　Paris：　Another　guard　sat　behind　bulletproof　glass　and　slid　out　a　drawer　to　exchange　our　passports　for　visitor　badges。
　　A　belt　carried　our　personal　effects　through　an　X…ray　machine；　and　the　guard　who　had　greeted　us　gave　us　instructions　with　gestures　rather　than　words　to　step；　one　at　a　time；　inside　what　looked　like　a　floor…to…ceiling　transparent　pneumatic　tube。　I　plied；　halfway　expecting　to　be　sucked　up　somewhere；　and　a　curved　Plexiglas　door　shut。　Another　one　released　me　on　the　other　side；　every　molecule　of　me　scanned。
　　〃What　the　hell　is　this？　Star　Trek？〃　Marino　said　to　me　after　he'd　been　scanned；　too。　〃How　you　know　something　like　that　can't　give　you　cancer？　Or　if　you're　a　man；　give　you　other　problems。〃
　　〃Be　quiet；〃　I　said。
　　It　seemed　we　waited　a　very　long　time　before　a　man　appeared　on　a　breezeway　connecting　the　secure　area　to　the　main　building；　and　he　was　not　at　all　what　I　expect。　He　walked　with　the　easy　spring　of　a　youthful　athlete；　and　an　expensive　charcoal　flannel　suit　draped　elegantly　over　what　was　clearly　a　sculpted　body。　He　wore　a　crisp　white　shirt　and　a　rich　Hermés　tie　in　maroon；　green　and　blue；　and　when　he　firmly　shook　our　hands　I　noticed　a　gold　watch；　too。
　　〃Jay　Talley。　Sorry　to　make　you　wait；〃　he　said。
　　His　hazel　eyes　were　so　penetrating　I　felt　violated　by　them；　his　dark　good　looks　so　striking　I　instantly　knew　his　type；　because　men　that　beautiful　are　all　alike。　I　could　tell　Marino　had　no　use　for　him；　either。
　　〃We　spoke　on　the　phone；〃　he　said　to　me；　as　if　I　didn't　remember。
　　〃And　I　haven't　slept　since；〃　I　said；　unable　to　take　my　eyes　off　him；　no　matter　how　hard　I　tried。
　　〃Please。　If　you'll　e　with　me。〃
　　Marino　gave　me　a　look　and　wiggled　his　fingers　behind　Talley's　back；　the　way　he　did　when　he　decided　on　the　spot　that　someone　was　gay。　Talley's　shoulders　were　broad。　He　had　no　waist。　His　profile　had　the　perfect　slope　of　a　Roman　god；　and　his　lips　were　full　and　his　jaw　was　flared。
　　I　concentrated　on　being　puzzled　by　his　age。　Usually；　overseas　posts　were　much　coveted　and　were　awarded　to　agents　with　seniority　and　rank；　yet　Talley　looked　barely　thirty。　He　led　us　into　a　marble　atrium　four　stories　high　that　was　centered　by　a　brilliant　mosaic　of　the　world　and　washed　in　light。　Even　the　elevators　were　glass。
　　After　a　series　of　electronic　locks　and　buzzers　and　binations　and　cameras　that　cared　about　our　every　move；　we　got　off　on　the　third　floor。　I　felt　as　if　I　were　inside　cut　crystal。　Talley　seemed　to　blaze。　I　felt　dazed　and　resentful　because　it　hadn't　been　my　idea　to　e　here；　and　I　didn't　feel　in　charge。
　　〃So　what's　up　there？〃　Marino；　the　model　of　politeness；　pointed。
　　‘17he　fourth　floor；〃　Talley　impassively　said。
　　〃Well；　the　button　don't　have　a　number　and　it　looks　like　you　have　to　key　yourself　up；〃　Marino　went　on；　staring　at　the　elevator　ceiling。　〃I　was　just　wondering　if　that's　where　you　keep　all　your　puters。〃
　　〃Ibe　secretary…general　lives　up　there；〃　Talley　matteróf…factly　stated；　as　if　there　were　nothing　unusual　about　this。
　　〃No　shit？〃
　　〃For　security　reasons。　He　and　his　family　live　in　the　building；〃　Talley　said　as　we　passed　normal…looking　offices　with　normal…looking　people　inside　them。　〃We're　meeting　him　now。〃
　　〃Good。　Maybe　he　won't　mind　telling　us　what　the　hell　we're　doing　here；〃　Marino　replied。
　　Talley　opened　another　door；　this　one　made　of　rich；　dark　wood；　and　we　were　politely　greeted　by　a　man　with　a　British　accent　who　identified　himself　as　the　director　of　munication。　He　took　orders　for　coffee　and　let　Secretary…General　George　Mirot　know　we　had　arrived。　Minutes　later　he　showed　us　into　Mirot's　private　office；　where　we　found　an　imposing　gray…haired　man　seated　behind　a　black　leather　desk　amid　walls　of　antique　guns　and　medals　and　gifts　from　other　countries。　Mirot　got　up　and　shook　our　hands。
　　〃Let's　be　fortable；〃　he　said。
　　He　showed　us　to　…a　sitting　area　before　a　window　overlooking　the　Rh8ne　while　Talley　collected　a　thick　accordion　file　from　a　table。
　　〃I　know　this　has　been　quite　an　ordeal　and　I'm　sure　you　must　be　exhausted；〃　he　said　in　precise　English。　〃I　can't　thank　you　enough　for　ing。　Especially　on　such　short　notice。〃
　　His　inscrutable　face　and　military　bearing　revealed　nothing；　and　his　presence　seemed　to　make　everything　around　him　smaller。　He　settled　into　a　wing　chair　and　crossed　his　legs。　Marino　and　I　chose　the　couch　and　Talley　sat　across　from　me；　setting　the　file　on　the　rug。
　　〃Agent　Talley；〃　Mirot　said；　〃I'll　let　you　start。　You'll　excuse　me　if　I　get　right　to　the　point？〃　He　directed　this　at　us。　〃We　have　very　little　time。〃
　　〃First；　I　want　to　explain　why　ATF's　involved　in　your　unidentified　case；〃　Talley　said　to　Marino　and　me。　〃You're　familiar　with　HIDTA。　Because　of　your　niece　Lucy；　perhaps？〃
　　〃This　has　nothing　to　do　with　her；〃　I　assumed　uneasily。
　　〃As　you　probably　know；　HIDTA　has　violent　crimesfugitive　task　forces；〃　he　said　instead　of　answering　my　question。　〃FBI；　DEA；　local　law　enforcement；　and　of　course　ATF；　bining　resources　in　high　priority；　especially　difficult　cases。〃
　　He　pulled　up　a　chair　and　sat　across　from　me。
　　〃About　a　year　ago；〃　he　went　on；　〃we　formed　a　squad　to　work　murders　in　Paris　we　believed　are　being　mitted　by　the　same　individual：'
　　〃I'm　not　aware　of　any　serial　murders　in　Paris；〃　I　said。
　　〃In　France；　we　control　the　media　better　than　you　do；〃　the　secretary…general　mented。　〃You　must　understand；　the　murders　have　been　in　the　news；　Dr。　Scarpetta；　but　in　very　little　detail；　no　sensationalizing。　Parisians　know　there's　a　murderer　out　there；　and　women　have　been　warned　not　to　open　their　doors　to　strangers；　and　so　on。　But　that's　all。　We　believe　it　serves　no　good　purpose　to　reveal　the　gore；　the　shattered　bones；　torn　clothes；　bite　marks；　sexual　deviations。〃
　　〃Where　did　the　name　Loup…Garou　e　from？〃　I　asked。
　　〃From　him；〃　Talley　said　as　his　eyes　almost　touched　my　body　and　flew　off　like　a　bird。
　　〃From　the　killer？〃　I　asked。　〃You　mean；　he　calls　himself　a　werewolf？〃
　　Yes。
　　〃How　the　hell　can　you　know　something　like　that？〃　Marino　elbowed　his　way　in；　and　I　knew　by　his　body　language　that　he　was　about　to　cause　trouble。
　　Talley　hesitated　and　glanced　at　Mirot。
　　〃What's　the　son　of　a　bitch　been　doing？〃　Marino　continued。　〃Leaving　his　nickname　on　little　notes　at　the　scenes？　Maybe　he　pins　them　to　the　bodies　like　in　the　movies；　huh？　That's　what　I　hate　about　big　organizations　getting　involved　in　crap　like　this。
　　〃The　best　people　to　work　crimes　is　the　schmucks　like　me　out。there　walking　around　getting　our　boots　muddy。　Once　you　get　these　big…shot　task　forces　and　puter　systems　involved；　the　whole　thing　gets　off　in　the　ozone。　It　gets　too　smart；　when　what　started　the　whole　ball　rolling　ain't　smart　in　the　college　sense　of　the　word　。　。　。〃
　　〃That's　where　you're　quite　mistaken；〃　Mirot　cut　him　off。　〃Loup…Garou　is　very　smart。　He　had　his　self…serving　reasons　to　let　us　know　his　name　in　a　letter。〃
　　〃A　letter　to　who？〃　Marino　wanted　to　know。
　　〃To　me；〃　Talley　said。
　　〃When　was　this？〃　I　asked。
　　〃About　a　year　ago。　After　his　fourth　murder。〃
　　He　untied　the　file　and　pulled　out　a　letter　protected　by　plastic。　He　handed　it　to　me；　his　fingers　brushing　against　mine。　The　letter　was　in　French。　I　recognized　the　handwriting　as　the　same　strange　boxlike　style　I'd　found　on　the　carton　inside　the　container。　The　stationery　was　engraved　with　a　woman's　name；　the　paper　smeared　with　blood。
　　〃It　says；〃　Talley　translated；　〃For　the　sins　of　one　shall　they　all　die。　The　werewolf。　The　stationery　belonged　to　the　victim　and　it's　her　blood。　But　what　mystified　me　at　the　time　was　how　he　knew　I　was　involved　in　the　investigation。　And　this　all　moves　us　closer　to　a　theory　that's　the　root　of　why　you're　here。　We　have　ample　reason　to　believe　the　killer　is　from　a　powerful　family；　the　son　of　people　who　know　exactly　what　he's　doing　a