rl.thebourneidentity-第22部分

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　Then　why　are　you　afraid？　I'm　just　an　ordinary　patron　about　to　order　dinner。'
　'I　beg　you。　Leave。'
　'Now　I'm　angry。　You'd　better　tell　me　why。'
　The　fat　man　brought　his　hand　to　his　face；　his　fingers　again　wiping　the　moisture　that　had　formed　around　his　mouth。　He　angled　his　head；　glancing　at　the　door；　then　turned　back　to　Bourne。　'Others　may　have　spoken；　others　may　know　who　you　are。　I've　had　my　share　of　trouble　with　the　police；　they　would　e　directly　to　me。'
　The　St　Jacques　woman　lost　control；　she　looked　at　Jason；　the　words　escaping。　'The　police。。。　They　were　the　police'
　Bourne　glared　at　her；　then　turned　back　to　the　nervous　fat　man。　'Are　you　saying　the　police　would　harm　your　wife　and　children？'
　'Not　in　themselves　…　as　you　well　know。　But　their　interest　would　lead　others　to　me。　To　my　family。　How　many　are　there　that　look　for　you；　mein　Herr？　And　what　are　they　that　do？　You　need　no　answer　from　me；　they　stop　at　nothing　…　the　death　of　a　wife　or　a　child　is　nothing。　Please。　On　my　life；　I've　said　nothing。　Leave。'
　'You're　exaggerating。'　Jason　raised　his　drink　to　his　lips；　a　prelude　to　dismissal。
　'In　the　name　of　Christ；　don't　do　this！'　The　man　leaned　over；　gripping　the　edge　of　the　table。　'You　wish　proof　of　my　silence；　I　give　it　to　you。　Word　was　spread　throughout　the　Verbrecherwelt。　Anyone　with　any　information　whatsoever　should　call　a　number　set　up　by　the　Zurich　police。　Everything　would　be　kept　in　the　strictest　confidence；　they　would　not　lie　in　the　Verbrecherwelt　about　that。　Rewards　were　ample；　the　police　in　several　countries　sending　funds　through　Interpol。　Past　misunderstandings　might　be　seen　in　new　judicial　lights。'　The　conspirator　stood　up；　wiping　his　mouth　again；　his　large　bulk　hovering　above　the　wood。　'A　man　like　myself　could　profit　from　a　kinder　relationship　with　the　police。　Yet　I　did　nothing。　In　spite　of　the　guarantee　of　confidentiality；　I　did　nothing　at　all！'
　'Did　anyone　else？　Tell　me　the　truth；　I'll　know　if　you're　lying。'
　'I　know　only　Chernak。　He's　the　only　one　I've　ever　spoken　to　who　admits　having　even　seen　you。　But　you　know　that；　the　envelope　was　passed　through　him　to　me。　He'd　never　say　anything。'
　'Where's　Chernak　now？'
　'Where　he　always　is。　In　his　flat　on　the　Swenstrasse。'
　'I've　never　been　there。　What's　the　number？'
　'You've　never　been？。。。'　The　fat　man　paused；　his　lips　pressed　together；　alarm　in　his　eyes。　'Are　you　testing　me？！
　'Answer　the　question。'
　'Number　37；　You　know　it　as　well　as　I　do。！
　Then　I'm　testing　you。　Who　gave　the　envelope　to　Chernak？'
　The　man　stood　motionless；　his　dubious　integrity　challenged。！　I　have　no　way　of　knowing。　Nor　would　I　ever　inquire。'
　'You　weren't　even　curious？'
　'Of　course　not。　A　goat　does　not　willingly　enter　the　wolfs　cave。！
　'Goats　are　sure…footed；　they've　got　an　accurate　sense　of　smell。'
　'And　they　are　cautious；　mein　Herr。　Because　the　wolf　is　faster；　infinitely　more　aggressive。　There　would　be　only　one　chase。　The　goat's　last。'
　'What　was　in　the　envelope？'
　'I　told　you；　I　did　not　open　it。'
　'But　you　know　what　was　in　it！
　'Money；　I　presume。'
　'You　presume！'
　'Very　well。　Money。　A　great　deal　of　money。　If　there　was　any　discrepancy；　it　had　nothing　to　do　with　me。　Now　please；　I　beg　you。　Get　out　of　here　I'
　'One　last　question。'
　'Anything。　Just　leave！'
　'What　was　the　money　for？'
　The　obese　man　stared　down　at　Bourne；　his　breathing　audible；　sweat　glistening　on　his　chin。　'You　put　me　on　the　rack；　mein　Herr；　but　I　will　not　turn　away　from　you。　Call　it　the　courage　of　an　insignificant　goat　who　has　survived。　Every　day　I　read　the　newspapers。　In　three　languages。　Six　months　ago　a　man　was　killed。　His　death　was　reported　on　the　front　page　of　each　of　those　papers。'
　They　circled　the　block；　emerging　on　the　Falkenstrasse；　then　turned　right　towards　the　Limmat　Quai　and　the　Grossmunster。　The　Lowenstrasse　was　across　the　river；　on　the　west　side　of　the　city。　The　quickest　way　to　reach　it　was　to　take　the　Mtinster　Bridge　to　the　Nuschelerstrasse；　the　avenues　intersected；　according　to　a　couple　who　had　been　about　to　enter　the　Drei　Alpen…hauser。
　Marie　St　Jacques　was　silent；　holding　onto　the　wheel　as　she　had　gripped　the　straps　of　her　handbag　during　the　madness　at　the　Carillon；　somehow　her　connection　with　sanity。　Bourne　glanced　at　her　and　understood。。。。　a　man　was　killed；　his　death　reported　on　the　front　pages　of　each　of　those　papers。
　Jason　Bourne　had　been　paid　to　kill；　and　the　police　in　several　countries　had　sent　funds　through　Interpol　to　convert　reluctant　informers；　to　broaden　the　base　of　his　capture。　Which　meant　that　other　men　had　been　killed。。。
　How　many　are　there　that　look　for　you；　mein　Herr？　And　what　are　they　that　do？。。。　They　stop　at　nothing　…　the　death　of　a　wife　or　a　child　is　nothing！
　Not　the　police。　Others。
　The　twin　bell　towers　of　the　Grossmunster　rose　in　the　night　sky；　floodlights　creating　eerie　shadows。　Jason　stared　at　the　ancient　structure；　as　so　much　else　he　knew　it　but　did　not　know　it。　He　had　seen　it　before；　yet　he　was　seeing　it　now　for　the　first　time。
　I　know　only　Chernak。。。　The　envelope　was　passed　through　him　to　me。。。　Lowenstrasse。　Number　37。　You　know　it　as　well　as　I　do。
　Did　he？　Would　he？
　They　drove　over　the　bridge　into　the　traffic　of　the　newer　city。　The　streets　were　crowded；　cars　and　pedestrians　vying　for　supremacy　at　every　intersection；　the　red　and　green　signals　erratic　and　interminable。　Bourne　tried　to　concentrate　on　nothing。。。　and　everything。　The　outlines　of　the　truth　were　being　presented　to　him；　shape　by　enigmatic　shape；　each　more　startling　than　the　last。　He　was　not　at　all　sure　he　was　capable　…　mentally　capable　…　of　absorbing　a　great　deal　more。
　'Sie！　Frdulein。　Ihre　Scheinwerfer！　Und　Sie　signalisieren。　Unrechter　Weg！'
　Jason　looked　up；　a　hollow　pain　knotting　his　stomach。　A　patrol　car　was　beside　them；　a　policeman　shouting　through　his　open　window。　Everything　was　suddenly　clear。。。　clear　and　infuriating。　The　St　Jacques　woman　had　seen　the　police　car　in　the　side　view　mirror；　she　had　extinguished　the　headlights　and　slipped　her　hand　down　to　the　indicator；　flipping　it　for　a　left　turn。　A　left　turn　into　a　one…way　street　whose　arrows　at　the　intersection　clearly　defined　the　traffic　heading　right！　And　turning　left　by　bolting　in　front　of　the　police　car　would　result　in　several　violations：　the　absence　of　headlights；　perhaps　even　a　premeditated　collision；　they　would　be　stopped；　the　woman　free　to　scream。
　Bourne　snapped　the　headlights　on；　then　leaned　across　the　girl；　one　hand　disengaging　the　directional　signal；　the　other　gripping　her　arm　where　he　had　gripped　it　before。
　I'll　kill　you；　Doctor；'　he　said　quietly；　then　shouted　through　the　window　at　the　police　officer。　'Sorry！　We're　a　little　confused！　Tourists！　We　want　the　next　block！'
　The　policeman　was　barely　two　feet　away　from　Marie　St　Jacques；　his　eyes　on　her　face；　evidently　puzzled　by　her　lack　of　reaction。
　The　light　changed。　'Ease　forward。　Don't　do　anything　stupid；'　said　Jason。　He　waved　at　the　police　officer　through　the　glass。　'Sorry　again！'　he　yelled。　The　policeman　shrugged；　turning　to　his　partner　to　resume　a　previous　conversation。
　'I　was　confused；'　said　the　girl；　her　soft　voice　trembling。　There's　so　much　traffic。。。　Oh；　God；　you've　broken　my　arm！。。。
　You　bastard。'
　Bourne　released　her；　disturbed　by　her　anger；　he　preferred　fear。　'You　don't　expect　me　to　believe　you；　do　you？'
　'My　arm？'
　'Your　confusion。'
　'You　said　we　were　going　to　turn　left　soon；　that's　all　I　was　thinking　about。'
　'Next　time　look　at　the　traffic。'　He　moved　away　from　…her　but　did　not　take　his　eyes　off　her　face。
　'You　are　an　animal；'　she　whispered；　briefly　closing　her　eyes；　opening　them　in　fear；　it　had　e　back。
　They　reached　the　Lowenstrasse；　a　wide　avenue　where　low　buildings　of　brick　and　heavy　wood　stood　sandwiched　between　modem　examples　of　smooth　concrete　and　glass。　The　character　of　nineteenth…century　flats　peted　against　the　utilitarianism　of　contemporary　neuterness。　They　did　not　lose。　Jason　watched　the　numbers；　they　were　descending　from　the　middle　eighties；　with　each　block　the　old　houses　more　in　evidence　than　the　high…rise　apartments；　until　the　street　had　returned　in　time　to　that　other　era。　There　was　a　row　of　neat　three…storey　flats；　roofs　and　windows　framed　in　wood；　stone　steps　and　railings　leading　up　to　reces