rl.thebourneidentity-第64部分

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　One　man　adjusted　his　glasses；　the　eyes　beyond　his　thick　lenses　owl…like；　flatly　suspicious　of　most　of　what　they　surveyed。　Alfred　Gillette；　Director　of　Personnel　Screening　and　Evaluation　for　the　National　Security　Council；　spoke。　'How　gratifying　to　be　there　when　arrogance　collapses。　How　much　more　so　to　be　the　instrument。'
　'You　really　dislike　him；　don't　you？'　said　Gillette's　panion；　a　heavy…shouldered　man　in　a　black　raincoat　whose　accent　derived　from　a　Slavic　language　somewhere　in　Europe。
　'I　loathe　him。　He　stands　for　everything　I　hate　in　Washington。　The　right　schools；　houses　in　Georgetown；　farm　in　Virginia；　quiet　meetings　at　their　clubs。　They've　got　their　tight　little　world　and　you　don't　break　in　…　they　run　it　all。　The　bastards。　The　superior；　self…inflated　gentry　of　Washington。　They　use　other　men's　intellects；　other　men's　work；　wrapping　it　all　into　decisions　bearing　their　imprimatures。　And　if　you're　on　the　outside；　you　bee　part　of　that　amorphous　entity；　a　〃damn　fine　staff〃。'
　'You　exaggerate；'　said　the　European；　his　eyes　on　the　brown…stone。　'You　haven't　done　badly　there。　We　never　would　have　contacted　you　otherwise。'
　Gillette　scowled。　'If　I　haven't　done　badly；　it's　because　I've　bee　indispensable　to　too　many　like　David　Abbott。　I　have　in　my　head　a　thousand　facts　they　couldn't　possibly　recall。　It's　simply　easier　for　them　to　place　me　where　the　questions　arc；　where　problems　need　solutions。　Director　of　Personnel　Screening　and　Development！　They　created　that　title；　that　post；　for　me。　Do　you　know　why？'
　'No；　Alfred；'　replied　the　European；　looking　at　his　watch；　'I　don't　know　why。'
　'Because　they　don't　have　the　patience　to　spend　hours　poring　over　thousands　of　resumes　and　dossiers。　They'd　rather　be　dining　at　Sans　Souci；　or　preening　in　front　of　Senate　mittees；　reading　from　pages　prepared　by　others　…　by　those　unseen；　unnamed　〃damn　fine　staffs〃。'
　'You're　a　bitter　man；'　said　the　European。
　'More　than　you'll　know。　A　lifetime　doing　the　work　those　bastards　should　have　done　for　themselves。　And　for　what？　A　title　and　an　occasional　lunch　where　my　brains　are　picked　between　the　shrimps　and　the　entree。　By　men　like　the　supremely　arrogant　David　Abbott；　they're　nothing　without　people　like　me。'
　'Don't　underestimate　the　Monk。　Carlos　doesn't
　'How　could　he？　He　doesn't　know　what　to　evaluate。　Everything　Abbott　does　is　shrouded　in　secrecy；　no　one　knows　how　many　mistakes　he's　made。　And　if　any　e　to　light；　men　like　me　are　blamed　for　them。'
　The　European　shifted　his　gaze　from　the　window　to　Gillette。　'You're　very　emotional；　Alfred；'　he　said　coldly；　'You　must　be　careful　about　that'
　The　bureaucrat　smiled。　'It　never　gets　in　the　way；　I　believe　my　contributions　to　Carlos　bear　that　out。　Let's　say　I'm　preparing　myself　for　a　confrontation　I　wouldn't　avoid　for　anything　in　the　world。'
　'An　honest　statement；'　said　the　heavy…shouldered　man。
　'What　about　you？　You　found　me。'
　'I　knew　what　to　look　for。'　The　European　returned　to　the　window。　'I　mean　you。　The　work　you　do。　For　Carlos。'
　'I　have　no　such　plicated　reasoning。　I　e　out　of　a　country　where　educated　men　are　promoted　at　the　whim　of　morons　who　recite　Marxist　litany　by　rote。　Carlos；　too；　knew　what　to　look　for。'
　Gillette　laughed；　his　fiat　eyes　close　to　shining。　'We're　not　so　different　after　all。　Change　the　bloodlines　of　our　eastern　establishment　for　Marx　and　there's　a　distinct　parallel。'
　'Perhaps；'　agreed　the　European；　looking　again　at　his　watch。　'It　shouldn't　be　long　now。　Abbott　always　catches　the　midnight　shuttle；　his　every　hour　accounted　for　in　Washington。'　'You're　sure　he'll　e　out　alone？'　'He　always　does；　and　he　certainly　wouldn't　be　seen　with　Elliot　Stevens。　Webb　and　Stevens　will　also　leave　separately；　twenty…minute　intervals　is　standard　for　those　called　in。'　'How　did　you　find　Treadstone？'
　'It　wasn't　so　difficult　You　contributed；　Alfred；　you　were　part　of　a　damn　fine　staff。'　The　man　laughed；　his　eyes　on　the　brownstone。　'Cain　was　out　of　Medusa；　you　told　us　that；　and　if　Carlos's　suspicions　are　accurate；　that　meant　the　Monk；　we　knew　that；　it　tied　him　to　Bourne。　Carlos　instructed　us　to　keep　Abbott　under　twenty…four…hour　surveillance；　something　had　gone　wrong。　When　the　gunshots　in　Zurich　were　heard　in　Washington；　Abbott　got　careless。　We　followed　him　here。　It　was　merely　a　question　of　persistence。'　'That　led　you　to　Canada？　To　the　man　in　Ottawa？'　'The　man　in　Ottawa　revealed　himself　by　looking　for　Tread…stone。　When　we　learned　who　the　girl　was　we　had　the　Department　of　Finance　watched；　her　section　watched。　A　call　came　from　Paris；　it　was　she；　telling　him　to　start　a　search。　We　don't　know　why；　but　we　suspect　Bourne　may　be　trying　to　blow　Treadstone　apart。　If　he's　turned；　it's　one　way　to　get　out　and　keep　the　money。　It　doesn't　matter。　Suddenly；　this　section　head　no　one　outside　the　Canadian　government　had　ever　heard　of　was　transformed　into　a　problem　of　the　highest　priority。　Intelligence　munique's　were　burning　the　wires。　It　meant　Carlos　was　right；　you　were　right；　Alfred。　There　is　no　Cain。　He's　an　invention；　a　trap。'　'From　the　beginning；'　insisted　Gillette。　'I　told　you　that
　Three　years　of　false　reports；　sources　unverified。　It　was　all　there！'
　'From　the　beginning；'　mused　the　European。　'Undoubtedly　the　Monk's　finest　creation。。。　until　something　happened　and　the　creation　turned。　Everything's　turning；　it's　all　ing　apart　at　the　seams。'
　'Stevens's　being　here　confirms　that。　The　President　insists　on　knowing。'
　'He　has　to。　There's　a　nagging　suspicion　in　Ottawa　that　a　section　head　at　the　Department　of　Finance　was　killed　by　American　Intelligence。'　The　European　turned　from　the　window　and　looked　at　the　bureaucrat。　'Remember；　Alfred；　we　simply　want　to　know　what　happened。　I've　given　you　the　facts　as　we've　learned　them；　they're　irrefutable　and　Abbott　cannot　deny　them。　But　they　must　be　presented　as　having　been　obtained　independently　by　your　own　sources。　You're　appalled。　You　demand　an　accounting；　the　entire　intelligence　munity　has　been　duped。'
　'It　has；'　exclaimed　Gillette。　'Duped　and　used。　No　one　in　Washington　knows　about　Bourne；　about　Treadstone。　They've　excluded　everyone；　it　is　appalling。　I　don't　have　to　pretend。　Arrogant　bastards'。'
　'Alfred；'　cautioned　the　European；　holding　up　his　hand　in　the　shadows；　'do　remember　whom　you're　working　for。　The　threat　cannot　be　based　on　emotion；　but　on　cold　professional　outrage。　He'll　suspect　you　instantly；　you　must　dispel　those　suspicions　just　as　swiftly。　You　are　the　accuser；　not　him。'
　I'll　remember。'
　'Good。'　Headlight　beams　bounced　through　the　glass。　'Abbott's　taxi　is　here。　I'll　take　care　of　the　driver。'　The　European　reached　to　his　right　and　flipped　a　switch　beneath　the　armrest。　I'll　be　in　my　car　across　the　street；　listening。'　He　spoke　to　the　chauffeur。　'Abbott　will　be　ing　out　any　moment　now。　You　know　what　to　do。'
　The　chauffeur　nodded。　Both　men　got　out　of　the　limousine　simultaneously。　The　driver　walked　around　the　bonnet　as　if　to　escort　a　wealthy　employer　to　the　south　side　of　the　street。　Gillette　watched　through　the　rear　window；　the　two　men　stayed　together　for　several　seconds；　then　separated；　the　European　heading　for　the　approaching　cab；　his　hand　held　up；　a　note　between　his　fingers。　The　taxi　would　be　sent　away；　the　caller's　plans　had　changed。　The　chauffeur　had　raced　to　the　north　side　of　the　street　and　was　now　concealed　in　the　shadows　of　a　staircase　two　doors　away　from　Treadstone　Seventy…one。
　Thirty　seconds　later　Gillette's　eyes　were　drawn　to　the　door　of　the　brownstone。　Light　spilled　through　as　an　impatient　David　Abbott　came　outside；　looking　up　and　down　the　street；　glancing　at　his　watch；　obviously　annoyed。　The　taxi　was　late　and　he　had　a　plane　to　catch；　precise　schedules　had　to　be　followed。　Abbott　walked　down　the　steps；　turning　left　on　the　pavement；　looking　for　the　cab；　expecting　it。　In　seconds　he　would　pass　the　chauffeur。　He　did；　both　men　well　out　of　camera　range。
　The　interception　was　quick；　the　discussion　rapid。　In　moments；　a　bewildered　David　Abbott　climbed　inside　the　limousine；　and　the　chauffeur　walked　away　into　the　shadows。
　'You！'　said　the　Monk；　anger　and　disgust　in　his　voice。　'Of　all　people；　you。'
　'I　don't　think　you're　in　any　position　to　be　disdainful。。。　much　less　arrogant。'
　'What　you've　done　I　How　dare　you？　Zurich。　The　Medusa　records。　It　was　you！'
　'The　Medusa　records；　yes。　Zurich；　yes。　But　it's　not　a　question　of　what　I've　done；　it's　what　you've　done。　We　sent　our　own　men　to　Zurich；　telling　them　what　to　look　for。　We　found　it。　His　name　is　Bourne；　isn't　it？　He's　the　man　you　call　Cain。　The　man　you　invented！'
　Abbott　kept　himself　in　check。　'How　did　you　find　this　house？'
　'Persistence。　I　had　you　followed。'
　'You　had　me　followed？　What　the　hell　did　you　think　you　were　doing？'
　Trying　to　set　a　record　straight。　A　record　you've　warped　and　lied　about；　keeping　the　truth　from　the　rest　of　us。　What　did　you　think　you　were　doing？'
　'Oh；　my　God；　you　damn　fool！'　Abbott　inhaled　deeply。　'Why　did　you　do　it？　Why　didn't　you　e　to　me　yourself？'
　'Because　you'd　have　done　nothing。　You've　manipulated　the　entire　intelligence　munity。　Millions　of　dollars；　untold　thousands　of　man　hours；　embassies　and　stations　fed　lies　and　distortions　about　a　killer　that　never　existed。　Oh；　I　recall　your　words；　what　a　challenge　to　Carles。　What　an　irresistible　trap　it　was！　Only　we　were　your　paw