rl.thebourneidentity-第67部分
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'Change your hair。 Pull it up or push it back； I don't care； but change it。 Move out of sight of his mirror。 Hurry up！'
Several moments later Marie's long auburn hair was pulled severely back； away from her face and neck； fastened with the aid of a mirror and hairpins into a tight chignon。 Jason looked at her in the dim light。
'Wipe off your lipstick。 All of it。'
She took out a tissue and did so。 'All right？'
'Yes。 Have you got an eyebrow pencil？'
'Of course。〃
'Thicken your eyebrows； just a little bit。 Extend them about a quarter of an inch； curve the ends down just a touch。〃
Again she followed his instructions。 'Now？' she asked。
'That's better；〃 he replied； studying her。 The changes were minor but the effect major。 She had been subtly transformed from a softly elegant； striking woman into a harsher image。 At the least； she was not on first sight the woman in the newspaper photograph and that was all that mattered。
'When we reach Billancourt；' he whispered； 'get out quickly； and turn your back。 Don't let the driver see you。'
'It's a little late for that； isn't it？'
'Just do as I say。〃
Listen to me。 I am a chameleon called Cain and I can teach you many things I do not care to teach you； but at the moment I must。 I can change my colour to acmodate any backdrop in the forest； I can shift with the wind by smelling it。 I can find my way through the natural and man…made jungles。 Alpha； Bravo； Charlie； Delta。。。 Delta is for Charlie and Charlie is for Cain。 I am Cain。 I am death。 And I must tell you who I am and lose you。
'My darling； what is it？〃
'What？'
'You're looking at me； you're not breathing。 Are you all right？'
'Sorry；' he said； glancing away； breathing again。 'I'm working out our moves。 I'll know better what to do when we get there。'
They arrived at the inn。 There was a parking area bordered by a post…and…rail fence on the right； several late diners came out of the lattice…framed entrance in front。 Bourne leaned forward in the seat。
'Let us off inside the parking area； if you don't mind；' he ordered； offering no explanation for the odd request。
'Certainly； Monsieur；' said the driver； nodding his head； then shrugging； his movements conveying the fact that his passengers were； indeed； a cautious couple。
The rain had subsided； returning to a mistlike drizzle。 The taxi drove off。 Bourne and Marie remained in the shadows of the foliage at the side of the Inn until it disappeared。 Jason put the suitcases down on the wet ground。 'Wait here；' he said。
'Where are you going？'
To phone for a taxi。'
The second taxi took them west into the Montrouge district。 This driver was singularly unimpressed by the stern…faced couple who were obviously from the provinces； and probably seeking cheaper lodgings。 When and if he picked up a newspaper and saw a photograph of a French…Canadian involved with murder and theft in Zurich； the woman in his back seat now would not e to mind。
The Auberge du Coin did not live up to its name。 It was not a quaint village inn situated in a secluded nook of the countryside。 Instead； it was a large； flat； two…storey structure a quarter of a mile off the main road。 If anything； it was reminiscent of motels that blight the outskirts of cities the world over； mercially guaranteeing the anonymity of their guests。 It was not hard to imagine weekly appointments by the score that were best attributed to erroneous registrations。
So they registered erroneously and were given a plastic room where every accessory worth over twenty francs was bolted into the floor or attached with headless screws to lacquered Formica laminate。 There was； however； one positive feature to the place； an ice machine down the hall。 They knew it worked because they could hear it。 With the door closed。
'All right； now。 Who would be sending us a message？' asked Bourne； standing； revolving the glass of whisky in his hand。
'If I knew； I'd get in touch with them；' she said； sitting at the small desk； chair turned； legs crossed； watching him closely。 'It could be connected with why you were running away。'
'If it was； it was a trap。'
'It was no trap。 A man like Walther Apfel didn't do what he did to acmodate a trap。'
'I wouldn't be so sure of that。' Bourne walked to the single plastic armchair and sat down。 'Koenig did； he marked me right there in the waiting room。'
'He was a bribed foot…soldier； not an officer of the bank。 He acted alone。 Apfel couldn't。'
Jason looked up。 'What do you mean？'
'Apfel's statement had to be cleared by his superiors。 It was made in the name of the bank。'
'If you're so sure； let's call Zurich。'
'They don't want that Either they haven't the answer； or they can't give it Apfel's last words were that they 〃would have no further ment To anyone。〃 That too； was part of the message。 We're to contact someone else。'
Bourne drank； he needed the alcohol for the moment was ing when he would begin the story of a killer named Cain。 Then we're back to whom？' he said。 'Back to the trap。'
'You think you know who it is； don't you？' Marie reached for her cigarettes on the desk。 'It's why you were running； isn't it？'
〃The answer to both questions is yes。' The moment had e。 The message was sent by Carlos！ I am Cain and you must leave me！ I must lose you。 But first there is Zurich and you have to understand。 'That article was planted to find me。'
'I won't argue with that；' she broke in； surprising him with the interruption。 'I've had time to think； they know the evidence is false … so patently false it's ridiculous。 The Zurich police fully expect me to get in touch with the Canadian Embassy now。。。' Marie stopped； the unlit cigarette in her hand。 'My God； Jason； that's what they want us to do！'
'Who wants us to do？'
'Hoover's sending us the message。 They know I have no choice but to call the embassy； get the protection of the Canadian government。 I didn't think of it because I've already spoken to the embassy； to what's his name … Dennis Corbelier； and he had absolutely nothing to tell me。 He only did what I asked him to do； there was nothing else。 But that was yesterday。；。 Not today； not tonight。〃 Marie started for the telephone on the bedside table。
Bourne rose quickly from the chair and intercepted her； holding her arm。 'Don't；' he said firmly。
'Why not？'
'Because you're wrong。'
'I'm right； Jason！ Let me prove it to you。'
Bourne moved in front of her。 'I think you'd better listen to what I have to say。〃
'No！' she cried； startling him。 'I don't want to hear it Not now！'
'An hour ago in Paris it was the only thing you wanted to hear。 Hear it！'
'No！ An hour ago I was dying！ You'd made up your mind to run。 Without me。 And I know now it will happen over and over again until it stops for you。 You hear words； you see images； and fragments of things e back to you that you can't understand； but because they're there you condemn yourself！ You always will condemn yourself until someone proves to you that whatever you were。。。 there are others using you； who will sacrifice you！ But there's also someone else out there who wants to help you； help us！ That's the message！ I know I'm right。 I want to prove it to you。 Let me！' Bourne held her arms in silence； looking at her； her lovely face filled with pain and useless hope； her eyes pleading。 The terrible ache was everywhere within him。 Perhaps it was better this way； she would see for herself and her fear would make her listen； make her understand。 There was nothing for them any longer。 7 am Cain。。。 'All right； you can make the call； but it's got to be done my way。' He released her and went to the telephone； he dialled the Auberge du Coin's front desk。 〃This is room three…four…one。 I've just heard from friends in Paris； they're ing out to join us in a while。 Do you have a room down the hall for them。。。？ Fine。 Their name is Briggs； an American couple。 I'll e down and pay in advance and you can let me have the key。。。 Splendid。 Thank you。'
'What are you doing？'
'Proving something to you；' he said。 'Get me a dress；' he continued。 The longest one you've got'
'What？'
'If you want to make your call； you'll do as I tell you。'
'You're crazy。'
'I've admitted that；' he said； taking trousers and a shirt from his suitcase。 The dress； please？
Fifteen minutes later； Mr and Mrs Briggs' room； six doors away and across the hall from three…four…one； was in readiness。 The clothes had been properly placed； selected lights left on； others not functioning because the bulbs had been removed。
Jason returned to their room； Marie was standing by the telephone。 'We're set'
'What have you done？'
'What I wanted to do； what I had to do。 You can make the call now。'
'It's very late。 Suppose he isn't there？'
'I think he will be。 If not； they'll give you his home phone。 His name was on the telephone logs in Ottawa； it had to be。'
'I suppose it was。'
Then he will have been reached。 Have you gone over what I told you to say？'
'Yes； but it doesn't matter； it's not relevant I know I'm not wrong。'
'We'll see。 Just say the words I told you。 I'll be right beside you listening。 Go ahead。'
She picked up the phone and dialled。 Seven seconds after she reached the embassy switch
