rl.thebourneidentity-第95部分

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　'Sorry。'
　'You　can't　exclude　met！'
　'I　have　to；　because　I　don't　know　what　I'm　going　to　find　there。　And　if　it's　not　what　I　expect；　I'll　want　someone　on　my　side。'
　'Darling；　that　doesn't　make　sense！　I'm　being　hunted　by　the　police。　If　they　find　me；　they'll　send　me　back　to　Zurich　on　the　next　plane：　you　said　so　yourself。　What　good　would　I　be　to　you　in　Zurich？'
　'Not　you。　Villiers。　He　trusts　us；　he　trusts　you。　You　can　reach　him　if　I'm　not　back　by　daybreak；　or　haven't　called　explaining　why。　He　can　make　a　lot　of　noise；　and　God　knows　he's　ready　to。　He's　the　one　back…up　we've　got；　the　only　one。　To　be　more　specific；　his　wife　is　…　through　him。'
　Marie　nodded；　accepting　his　logic。　'He's　ready；〃　she　agreed。　'How　will　you　get　to　Rambouillet？'
　'We　have　a　car；　remember？　I'll　take　you　to　the　hotel；　then　head　over　to　the　garage。'
　He　stepped　inside　the　lift　of　the　garage　plex　in　Montmartre　and　pressed　the　button　for　the　third　floor。　His　mind　was　on　a　cemetery　somewhere　between　Chevreuse　and　Rambouillet；　on　a　road　he　had　driven　over　but　had　no　idea　when　or　for　what　purpose。
　Which　was　why　he　wanted　to　drive　there　now；　not　wait　until　his　arrival　corresponded　more　closely　to　the　time　of　rendezvous。　If　the　images　that　came　to　his　mind　were　not　pletely　distorted；　it　was　an　enormous　cemetery。　Where　precisely　within　those　acres　of　graves　and　statuary　was　the　meeting　ground？　He　would　get　there　by　1：00；　leaving　a　half　hour　to　walk　up　and　down　the　paths　looking　for　a　pair　of　headlights　or　a　signal。　Other　things　would　e　to　him。
　The　lift　door　scraped　open。　The　floor　was　three…quarters　filled　with　cars；　deserted　otherwise。　Jason　tried　to　recall　where　he　had　parked　the　Renault；　it　was　in　a　far　corner；　he　remembered　that；　but　was　it　on　the　right　or　the　left？　He　started　tentatively　to　the　left；　the　lift　had　been　on　his　left　when　he　had　driven　the　car　up　several　days　ago。　He　stopped；　logic　abruptly　orienting　him。　The　lift　had　been　on　his　left　when　he　had　entered；　not　after　he　had　parked　the　car；　it　had　been　diagonally　to　his　right　then。　He　turned；　his　movement　rapid；　his　thoughts　on　a　road　between　Chevreuse　and　Rambouillet
　Whether　it　was　the　sudden；　unexpected　reversal　of　direction　or　an　inexperienced　surveillance；　Bourne　neither　knew　or　cared　to　dwell　upon。　Whichever；　the　moment　saved　his　life；　of　that　he　was　certain。　A　man's　head　ducked　below　the　bonnet　of　a　car　in　the　second　aisle　on　his　right；　that　man　had　been　watching　him。　An　experienced　surveillance　would　have　stood　up；　holding　a　ring　of　keys　he　had　presumably　picked　up　from　the　floor；　or　checked　a　windscreen　wiper　then　walked　away。　The　one　thing　he　would　not　do　was　what　this　man　did；　risk　being　seen　by　ducking　out　of　sight。
　Jason　maintained　his　pace；　his　thoughts　concerned　with　this　new　development　Who　was　this　man？　How　had　he　been　found？　And　then　both　answers　were　so　clear；　so　obvious　he　felt　like　a　fool。　The　clerk　at　the　Auberge　du　Coin！
　Carlos　had　been　thorough　…　as　he　was　always　thorough　…every　detail　of　failure　examined。　And　one　of　those　details　was　a　clerk　on　duty　during　a　failure。　Such　a　man　bore　scrutiny；　then　questioning；　it　would　not　be　difficult。　The　show　of　a　knife　or　a　gun　would　be　more　than　sufficient　Information　would　pour　from　the　night　clerk's　trembling　lips；　and　Carlos's　army　ordered　to　spread　throughout　the　city；　each　district　divided　into　sectors；　hunting　for　a　specific　black　Renault。　A　painstaking　search；　but　not　impossible；　made　easier　by　a　driver　who　had　not　bothered　to　switch　licence　plates。　For　how　many　unbroken　hours　had　the　garage　been　watched？　How　many　men　were　there？　Inside；　outside？　How　soon　would　others　arrive？　Would　Carlos　arrive？
　The　questions　were　secondary。　He　had　to　get　out。　He　could　do　without　the　car；　perhaps；　but　the　resulting　dependency　on　unknown　arrangements　might　cripple　him；　he　needed　transportation　and　he　needed　it　now。　No　taxi　would　drive　a　stranger　to　a　cemetery　on　the　outskirts　of　Rambouillet　at　one　o'clock　in　the　morning；　and　it　was　no　time　to　rely　on　the　possibility　of　stealing　a　car　in　the　streets。
　He　stopped；　taking　cigarettes　and　matches　from　his　pockets；　then；　striking　a　match；　he　cupped　his　hands　and　angled　his　head　to　protect　the　flame。　In　the　corner　of　his　eye；　he　could　see　a　shadow　…　square…shaped；　stocky；　the　man　had　once　more　lowered　himself；　now　behind　the　boot　of　a　nearer　car。
　Jason　dropped　to　a　crouch；　spun　to　his　left；　and　lunged　out　of　the　aisle　between　two　adjacent　cars；　breaking　his　fall　with　the　palms　of　his　hands；　the　manoeuvre　made　in　silence。　He　crawled　around　the　rear　wheels　of　the　vehicle　on　his　right；　arms　and　legs　working　rapidly；　quietly　down　the　narrow　alley　of　cars；　a　spider　scurrying　across　a　web。　He　was　behind　the　man　now；　he　crept　forward　towards　the　aisle　and　got　to　his　knees；　inching　his　face　along　smooth　metal；　and　peered　beyond　a　headlight。　The　heavy…set　man　was　in　full　view；　standing　erect。　He　was　evidently　bewildered；　for　he　moved　hesitantly　closer　towards　the　Renault；　his　body　low　again；　squinting　to　see　beyond　the　windscreen。　What　he　saw　frightened　him　further；　there　was　nothing；　no　one。　He　gasped；　the　audible　intake　of　breath　a　prelude　to　running。　He　had　been　tricked；　he　knew　it　and　was　not　about　to　wait　around　for　the　consequences　…　which　told　Bourne　something　else。　The　man　had　been　briefed　on　the　driver　of　the　Renault；　the　danger　explained。　He　began　to　race　towards　the　exit　ramp。
　Now。　Jason　sprang　up　and　ran　straight　ahead　across　the　aisle；　between　the　cars　to　the　second　aisle；　catching　up　with　the　running　man；　hurling　himself　at　the　man's　back　and　throwing　him　to　the　concrete　floor。　He　hammer…locked　the　man's　thick　neck；　crashing　the　outsized　skull　into　the　pavement；　the　fingers　of　his　left　hand　pressed　into　the　man's　eye　sockets。
　'You　have　exactly　five　seconds　to　tell　me　who's　outside；'　he　said　in　French；　remembering　the　grimacing　face　of　another　Frenchman　in　a　lift　in　Zurich。　There　had　been　men　outside　then；　men　who　wanted　to　kill　him　then；　on　the　Bahnhofstrasse。　'Tell　me！　Now！'
　'A　man；　one　man；　that's　all！'
　Bourne　relocked　the　neck；　digging　his　fingers　deeper　into　the　eyes。　'Where？'
　'In　a　car；'　spat　out　the　man。　'Parked　across　the　street。　My　God；　you're　choking　me！　You're　blinding　me！'
　'Not　yet。　You'll　know　it　when　and　if　I　do　both。　What　kind　of　car？'
　'Foreign。　I　don't　know。　Italian；　I　think。　Or　American。　I　don't　know。　Please！　My　eyes！'
　'Colour！'
　'Dark！　Green；　blue；　very　dark。　Oh　my　God！'
　'You're　Carlos's　man；　aren't　you？〃
　'Who？'
　Jason　yanked　again；　pressed　again。　'You　heard　me！　You're　from　Carlos！'
　'I　don't　know　any　Carlos。　We　call　a　man；　there　is　a　number。　That's　all　we　do。'
　'Has　he　been　called？'　The　man　did　not　reply；　Bourne　dug　his　lingers　deeper。　'Tell　me！'
　'Yes。　I　had　to。'
　'When？'
　'A　few　minutes　ago。　The　coin　telephone　on　the　second　ramp。　My　Cod　I　I　can't　see。'
　'Yes；　you　can。　Get　up！'　Jason　released　the　man；　pulling　him　to　his　feet。　'Get　over　to　the　car。　Quickly！'　Bourne　pushed　the　man　back　between　the　stationary　vehicles　to　the　Renault's　aisle。　The　man　turned；　protesting；　helpless。　'You　heard　me。　Hurry！'　shouted　Jason。
　'I'm　only　earning　a　few　francs。〃
　'Now　you　can　drive　for　it。'　Bourne　shoved　him　again　towards　the　Renault。
　Moments　later　the　small　black　vehicle　careened　down　an　exit　ramp　towards　a　glass　booth　with　a　single　attendant　and　the　cash　register。　Jason　was　in　the　back　seat；　his　gun　pressed　against　the　man's　bruised　neck。　Bourne　shoved　a　note　and　his　dated　ticket　out　of　the　window；　the　attendant　took　both。
　'Drive！'　said　Bourne。　'Do　exactly　what　I　told　you　to　do！'
　The　man　pressed　the　accelerator　and　the　Renault　sped　out　through　the　exit。　The　man　made　a　screeching　U…turn　in　the　street；　ing　to　a　sudden　stop　in　front　of　a　dark　green　American　Chevrolet　A　car　door　opened　behind　them；　running　footsteps　followed。
　'Jules！　Qu'est…ce　que　c'est　que　ca？　Vous　conduisez？'　A　figure　loomed　in　the　open　window。
　Bourne　raised　his　automatic；　pointing　the　barrel　at　the　man's　face。　'Take　two　steps　back；'　he　said　in　French。　'No　more；　just　two。　And　then　stand　still。'　He　tapped　the　head　of　the　man　named　Jules。　'Get　out。　Slowly。'
　'We　were　only　to　follow　you！'　protested　Jules；　stepping　out　into　the　street。　'Follow　you　and　report　your　whereabouts！'
　'You'll　do　better　than　that；'　said　Bourne；　getting　out　of　the　Renault；　taking　his　map　of　Paris　with　him。　'You're　going　to　drive　me。　For　a　while。　Get　in　your　car；　both　of　you！'
　Five　miles　outside　Paris　on　the　road　to　Chevreuse；　the　two　men　were　ordered　out　of　the　car。　It　was　a　dark；　poorly　lighted；　third…grade　highway。　There　had　been　no　shops；　buildings；　houses　or　telephones　for　the　past　three　miles。
　'What　was　the　number　you　were　told　to　call？'　demanded　Jason。　'Don't　lie。　You'd　be　in　worse　trouble。'
　Jules　gave　it　to　him。　Bourne　nodded　and　climbed　into　the　seat　behind　the　wheel　of　the　Chevrolet
　The　old　man　in　the　threadbare　overcoat　sat　huddled　in　the　shadows　of　the　empty　booth　by　the　telephone。　The　small　restaurant　was　closed；　his　presence　there　an　acmodation　made　by　a　friend　from　the　old　days；　the　better　days。　He　kept　looking　at　the　instrument　on　the　wall；　wondering　when　it　would　ring。　It　was　only　a　question　of　time；　and　when　it　did　he　would　in　turn　make　a　call