rl.thebourneidentity-第35部分

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　under　those　conditions。'
　'At　the　first　sign；'　repeated　Bourne；　studying　her。　'And　I　determine　when　and　where　that　is？'
　'If　you　like。　My　experience　is　limited。　I　won't　argue。'
　He　continued　to　hold　her　eyes；　the　moment　long；　magnified　by　silence。　Finally；　he　asked；　'Why　are　you　doing　this？　You　just　said　it。　We're　two　reasonably　intelligent　people　who　crawled　out　of　some　kind　of　hell。　That　may　be　all　we　are。　Is　it　worth　it？'
　She　sat　motionless。　'I　also　said　something　else；　maybe　you've　forgotten。　Four　nights　ago　a　man　who　could　have　kept　running　came　back　for　me　and　offered　to　die　in　my　place。　I　believe　in　that　man。　I　think　more　than　he　does。　That's　really　what　I　have　to　offer。'
　'I　accept；'　he　said；　reaching　for　her。　'I　shouldn't；　but　I　do。　I　need　that　belief　very　badly。'
　'You　may　interrupt　now；'　she　whispered；　lowering　the　sheet；　her　body　ing　to　his。　'Make　love　to　me；　I　have　needs　too。'
　Three　more　days　and　nights　went　by；　filled　by　the　warmth　of　their　fort；　the　excitement　of　discovery。　They　lived　with　the　intensity　of　two　people　aware　that　change　would　e。　And　when　it　came；　it　would　e　quickly；　so　there　were　things　to　talk　about　which　could　not　be　avoided　any　longer。
　Cigarette　smoke　spiralled　above　the　table；　joining　the　steam　from　the　hot；　bitter　coffee。　The　concierge；　an　ebullient　Swiss　whose　eyes　took　in　more　than　his　lips　would　reveal；　had　left　several　minutes　before；　having　delivered　the　petit　dejeuner　and　the　Zurich　newspapers。　Jason　and　Marie　sat　opposite　each　other；　both　had　scanned　the　news。
　'Anything　in　yours？'　asked　Bourne。
　That　old　man；　the　watchman　at　the　Guisan　Quai；　was　buried　the　day　before　yesterday。　The　police　still　have　nothing　concrete。　〃Investigation　in　progress；〃　it　says。'
　'It's　a　little　more　extensive　here；'　said　Jason；　shifting　his　paper　awkwardly　in　his　bandaged　left　hand。
　'How　is　it？'　asked　Marie；　looking　at　the　hand。
　'Better。　I've　got　more　play　in　the　fingers　now。'
　'I　know。'
　'You've　got　a　dirty　mind。'　He　folded　the　paper。　'Here　it　is。　They　repeat　the　things　they　said　the　other　day。　The　shells　and　blood　scrapings　are　being　analysed。'　Bourne　looked　up。　'But　they've　added　something。　Remnants　of　clothing；　it　wasn't　mentioned　before。'
　'Is　that　a　problem？'
　'Not　for　me。　My　clothes　were　bought　off　a　rack　in　Marseilles。　What　about　your　dress？　Was　it　a　special　design　or　fabric？'
　'You　embarrass　me；　it　wasn't。　All　my　clothes　are　made　by　a　woman　in　Ottawa。'
　'It　couldn't　be　traced　then？'
　'I　don't　see　how。　The　silk　came　from　a　bolt　a　C…Six　in　our　section　brought　back　from　Hong　Kong。'
　'Did　you　buy　anything　at　the　shops　in　the　hotel？　Something　you　might　have　had　on　you。　A　kerchief；　a　pin；　anything　like　that？'
　'No。　I'm　not　much　of　a　shopper　that　way。'
　'Good。　And　your　friend　wasn't　asked　any　questions　when　she　checked　out？'
　'Not　by　the　desk；　I　told　you　that。　Only　by　the　two　men　you　saw　me　with　in　the　elevator。'
　'From　the　French　and　Belgian　delegations。'
　'Yes。　Everything　was　fine。'
　'Let's　go　over　it　again。'
　'There's　nothing　to　go　over。　Paul　…　the　one　from　Brussels　…didn't　see　anything。　He　was　knocked　off　his　chair　to　the　floor　and　stayed　there。　Claude　…　he　tried　to　stop　us；　remember？　…at　first　thought　it　was　me　on　the　stage；　in　the　light；　but　before　he　could　get　to　the　police　he　was　hurt　in　the　crowd　and　taken　to　the　infirmary。'
　'And　by　the　time　he　might　have　said　something；'　interrupted　Jason；　recalling　her　words；　'he　wasn't　sure。'
　'Yes。　But　I　have　an　idea　he　knew　my　main　purpose　for　being　at　the　conference；　my　presentation　didn't　fool　him。　If　he　did；　it　would　reinforce　his　decision　to　stay　out　of　it。'
　Bourne　picked　up　his　coffee。　'Let　me　have　that　again；'　he　said。　'You　were　looking　for。。。　alliances？'
　'Well；　hints　of　them；　really。　No　one's　going　to　e　out　and　say　there　are　financial　interests　in　his　country　working　with　interests　in　that　country　so　they　can　buy　their　way　into　Canadian　raw　materials　or　any　other　market。　But　you　see　who　meets　for　drinks；　who　has　dinner　together。　Or　sometimes　it's　as　dumb　as　a　delegate　from；　say；　Rome　…　whom　you　know　is　being　paid　by　Agnelli　…　ing　up　and　asking　you　how　serious　Ottawa　is　about　the　declaration　laws。'
　'I'm　still　not　sure　I　understand。'
　'You　should。　Your　own　country's　very　touchy　about　the　subject。　Who　owns　what？　How　many　American　banks　are　controlled　by　OPEC　money？　How　much　industry　is　owned　by　European　and　Japanese　consortiums？　How　many　hundreds　of　thousands　of　acres　have　been　acquired　by　capital　that's　fled　England　and　Italy　and　France？　We　all　worry。'
　'We　do？'
　Marie　laughed。　'Of　course。　Nothing　makes　a　man　more　nationalistic　than　to　think　his　country's　owned　by　foreigners。　He　can　adjust　in　time　to　losing　a　war　…　that　only　means　the　enemy　was　stronger　…　but　to　lose　his　economy　means　the　enemy　was　smarter。　The　period　of　occupation　lasts　longer；　and　so　do　the　scars。'
　'You've　given　these　things　a　lot　of　thought；　haven't　you？'
　For　a　brief　moment；　the　look　in　Marie's　eyes　lost　its　edge　of　humour；　she　answered　him　seriously。　'Yes；　I　have。　I　think　they're　important。'
　'Did　you　learn　anything　in　Zurich？'
　'Nothing　startling；'　she　said。　'Money's　flying　all　over　the　place；　syndicates　are　trying　to　find　internal　investments　where　bureaucratic　machineries　look　the　other　way。'
　'That　cablegram　from　Peter　said　your　daily　reports　were　first　rate。　What　did　he　mean？'
　'I　found　a　number　of　odd　economic　bedfellows　who　I　think　may　be　using　Canadian　figureheads　to　buy　up　Canadian　properties。　I'm　not　being　elusive；　it's　just　that　they　wouldn't　mean　anything　to　you。'
　'I'm　not　trying　to　pry；'　countered　Jason；　'but　I　think　you　put　me　in　one　of　those　beds。　Not　with　respect　to　Canada；　but　in　general。'
　'I　don't　rule　you　out；　the　structure's　there。　You　could　be　part　of　a　financial　bine　that's　looking　for　all　manner　of　illegal　purchases。　It's　one　thing　I　can　put　a　quiet　trace　on；　but　I　want　to　do　it　over　a　telephone。　Not　words　written　out　in　a　cable。'
　'Now　I'm　prying。　What　do　you　mean　and　how？'
　'If　there's　a　Treadstone　Seventy…one　behind　a　multinational　corporate　door　somewhere；　there　are　ways　to　find　which　pany；　which　door。　I　want　to　call　Peter　from　one　of　those　public　telephone　stations　in　Paris。　I'll　tell　him　that　I　ran　across　the　name　Treadstone　Seventy…one　in　Zurich　and　it's　been　bothering　me。　I'll　ask　him　to　make　a　CS　…　a　covert　search　…　and　say　that　I'll　call　him　back。'
　'And　if　he　finds　it。。。？'
　'If　it's　there；　he'll　find　if
　'Then　I　get　in　touch　with　whoever's　listed　as　the　〃certified　directors〃　and　surface。'
　'Very　cautiously；'　added　Marie。　'Through　intermediaries。　Myself；　if　you　like。'
　'Why？'
　'Because　of　what　they've　done。　Or　not　done；　really。'
　'Which　is？'
　'They　haven't　tried　to　reach　you　in　nearly　six　months。'
　'You　don't　know　that　…　I　don't　know　that！
　'The　bank　knows　it。　Millions　of　dollars　left　untouched；　unaccounted　for；　and　no　one　has　bothered　to　find　out　why。　That's　what　I　can't　understand。　It's　as　though　you　were　being　abandoned。　It's　where　the　mistake　could　have　been　made。'
　Bourne　leaned　back　in　the　chair；　looking　at　his　bandaged　left　hand；　remembering　the　sight　of　the　weapon　smashing　repeatedly　downward　in　the　shadows　of　a　racing　car　in　the　Steppdeckstrasse。　He　raised　his　eyes　and　looked　at　Marie。　'What　you're　saying　is　that　if　I　was　abandoned；　it's　because　that　mistake　is　thought　to　be　the　truth　by　the　directors　at　Treadstone。'
　'Possibly。　They　might　think　you've　involved　them　in　illegal　transactions　…　with　criminal　elements　…　that　could　cost　them　millions　more。　Conceivably　risking　expropriation　of　entire　panies　by　angry　governments。　Or　that　you　joined　forces　with　an　international　crime　syndicate；　probably　not　knowing　it。　Anything。　It　would　account　for　their　not　going　near　the　bank。　They'd　want　no　guilt　by　association。'
　'So；　in　a　sense；　no　matter　what　your　friend　Peter　learns；　I'm　still　back　at　square　one。〃
　'We're　back；　but　it's　not　square　one；　more　like　four…and…a…half　to　five　on　a　scale　of　ten。'
　'Even　if　it　were　nine；　nothing's　really　changed。　Men　want　to　kill　me　and　I　don't　know　why。　Others　could　stop　them　but　they　won't。　That　man　at　the　Drei　Alpenhauser　said　Interpol　has　its　nets　out　for　me；　and　if　I　walk　into　one　I　don'