rl.thebourneidentity-第52部分

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　of　the　office。　There　was　a　bitch　quality　in　the　perfumed　air；　these　were　the　quarters　of　an　ageing；　pacing　tigress；　swift　to　attack　any　who　threatened　her　possessions　or　the　sating　of　her　appetites。　Yet　she　was　disciplined；　all　things　considered；　an　estimable　liaison　to　Carlos。
　Who　was　that　man　on　the　switchboard？　Where　had　he　seen　him？
　He　was　offered　a　drink　from　a　selection　of　bottles；　he　chose　brandy。
　'Do　sit　down；　Monsieur。　I　shall　enlist　the　help　of　Rene　himself；　if　I　can　find　him。'
　'That's　very　kind；　but　I'm　sure　whatever　you　choose　will　be　satisfactory。　I　have　an　instinct　about　taste；　yours　is　all　through　this　office。　I'm　fortable　with　it'
　'You're　too　generous。'
　'Only　when　it's　warranted；'　said　Jason；　still　standing。　'Actually；　I'd　like　to　look　at　the　photographs。　I　see　a　number　of　acquaintances；　if　not　friends。　A　lot　of　these　faces　pass　through　the　Bahamian　banks　with　considerable　frequency。'
　'I'm　sure　they　do；'　agreed　Lavier；　in　a　tone　that　bespoke　regard　for　such　avenues　of　finance。　'I　shan't　be　long；　Monsieur。'
　Nor　would　she；　thought　Bourne；　as　Les　Classiques'　partner　swept　out　of　the　office。　Mme　Lavier　was　not　about　to　allow　a　tired；　wealthy　mark　too　much　time　to　think。　She　would　return　with　the　most　expensive　designs　she　could　gather　up　as　rapidly　as　possible。　Therefore；　if　there　was　anything　in　the　room　that　could　shed　light　on　Carlos's　intermediary　…　or　on　the　assassin's　operation　…　it　had　to　be　found　quickly。　And；　if　it　was　there　it　would　be　on　or　around　the　desk。
　Jason　circled　behind　the　imperial　chair　in　front　of　the　wall；　feigning　amused　interest　in　the　photographs；　but　concentrating　on　the　desk。　There　were　invoices；　receipts　and　overdue　bills；　along　with　dunning　letters　of　reprimand　awaiting　Lavier's　signature。　An　address　book　lay　open；　four　names　on　the　page；　he　moved　closer　to　see　more　clearly。　Each　was　the　name　of　a　pany；　the　individual　contacts　bracketed；　his　or　her　positions　underlined。　He　wondered　if　he　should　memorize　each　pany；　each　contact。　He　was　about　to　do　so　when　his　eyes　fell　on　the　edge　of　an　index　card。　It　was　only　the　edge；　the　rest　was　concealed　under　the　telephone　itself。　And　there　was　something　else　…　dull；　barely　discernible。　A　strip　of　transparent　tape；　running　along　the　edge　of　the　card；　holding　it　in　place。　The　tape　itself　was　relatively　new；　recently　stuck　over　the　heavy　paper　and　the　gleaming　wood；　it　was　clean；　no　smudges　or　coiled　borders　or　signs　of　having　been　there　very　long。
　Instinct。
　Bourne　picked　up　the　telephone　to　move　it　aside。　It　rang；　the　bell　vibrating　through　his　hand；　the　shrill　sound　unnerving。　He　replaced　it　on　the　desk　and　stepped　away　as　a　man　in　shirtsleeves　rushed　through　the　open　door　from　the　corridor。　He　stopped；　staring　at　Bourne；　his　eyes　alarmed　but　nonmittal。　The　telephone　rang　a　second　time；　the　man　walked　rapidly　to　the　desk　and　picked　up　the　receiver。
　'Allo？'　There　was　silence　as　the　intruder　listened；　head　down；　concentration　on　the　caller。　He　was　a　tanned；　muscular　man　of　indeterminate　age；　the　sun…drenched　skin　disguising　the　years。　His　face　was　taut；　his　lips　thin；　his　close…cropped　hair　thick；　dark　brown　and　disciplined。　The　sinews　of　his　bare　arms　moved　under　the　flesh　as　he　transferred　the　phone　from　one　hand　to　the　other；　speaking　harshly。　'Pas　id　maintenant。　Je　ne　sais　pas　la　expanse。　Appelez　encore。'　He　hung　up　and　looked　at　Jason。　'Oil　est　Jacqueline？'
　4A　little　slower；　please；'　said　Bourne；　lying　in　English。　'My　French　is　limited。'
　'Sorry；'　replied　the　bronzed　man。　〃I　was　looking　for　Madame　Lavier。'
　The　owner？'
　'The　title　will　suffice。　Where　is　she？'
　'Depleting　my　funds。'　Jason　smiled；　raising　his　glass　to　his　lips。
　'Oh？　And　who　are　you；　Monsieur？'
　'Who　are　you？'
　The　man　studied　Bourne。　'Rone〃　Bergeron。'
　'Oh；　Lord！'　exclaimed　Jason。　'She's　looking　for　you。　You're　very　good；　Mr　Bergeron。　She　said　I　was　to　look　upon　your　designs　as　the　work　of　an　emerging　master。'　Bourne　smiled　again。　'You're　the　reason　I　may　have　to　wire　the　Bahamas　for　a　great　deal　of　money。'
　'You're　most　kind；　Monsieur。　And　I　apologize　for　barging　in。'
　'Better　that　you　answered　that　phone　than　me。　Berlitz　considers　me　a　failure。'
　'Buyers；　suppliers；　all　screaming　idiots。　To　whom；　Monsieur；　do　I　have　the　honour　of　speaking？'
　'Briggs；'　said　Jason；　having　no　idea　where　the　name　came
　from；　astonished　that　it　came　so　quickly；　so　naturally。　'Charles　Briggs。'
　'A　pleasure　to　know　you。'　Bergeron　extended　his　hand；　the　grip　was　firm。　'You　say　Jacqueline　was　looking　for　me？'
　'On　my　behalf；　I'm　afraid。'
　'I　shall　find　her。'　The　designer　left　quickly。
　Bourne　moved　quickly　to　the　desk；　his　eyes　on　the　door；　his　hand　on　the　telephone。　He　moved　it　to　the　side；　exposing　the　index　card。　There　were　two　telephone　numbers；　the　first　recognizable　as　a　Zurich　exchange；　the　second　obviously　Paris。
　Instinct。　He　had　been　right；　a　strip　of　transparent　tape　the　only　sign　he　had　needed。　He　stared　at　the　numbers；　memorizing　them；　then　moved　the　telephone　back　into　place；　and　stepped　away。
　He　had　barely　managed　to　clear　the　desk　when　Madame　Lavier　swept　back　into　the　room；　a　hall　dozen　dresses　over　her　arm。　'I　met　Rene　on　the　steps。　He　approves　of　my　selections　most　enthusiastically。　He　also　tells　me　your　name　is　Briggs；　Monsieur。'
　'I　would　have　told　you　myself；'　said　Bourne；　smiling　back；　countering　the　pout　in　Lavier's　voice。　'But　I　don't　think　you　asked。'
　'〃Spoors　in　the　forest〃；　Monsieur。　Here；　I　bring　you　a　feast！'　She　separated　the　dresses；　placing　them　carefully　over　several　chairs。　'I　truly　believe　these　are　among　the　finest　creations　Rene　has　brought　us。'
　'Brought　you？'　replied　Jason。　'He　doesn't　work　here　then？'
　'A　figure　of　speech：　his　studio's　at　the　end　of　the　corridor；　but　it　is　a　holy　sacristy。　Even　I　tremble　when　I　enter。'
　'They're　magnificent；'　continued　Bourne；　going　from　one　to　another。　'But　I　don't　want　to　overwhelm　her；　just　pacify　her；'　he　added；　pointing　out　three　garments。　I'll　take　these。'
　'A　fine　selection；　Monsieur　Briggs！'
　'Box　them　with　the　others；　if　you　will。'
　'Of　course。　She　is；　indeed；　a　fortunate　lady。'
　'A　good　panion；　but　a　child'。　A　spoiled　child；　I'm　afraid。　However；　I've　been　away　a　lot　and　haven't　paid　much　attention　to　her；　so　I　feel　I　should　make　peace。　It's　one　reason　I　sent　her　to　Cap　Ferrat。'　He　smiled；　taking　out　his　Louis　Vuitton　wallet。　'Lafacture；　s'il　vous　plait？〃
　I'll　have　one　of　the　girls　expedite　everything。'　Mme　Lavier　pressed　a　button　on　the　inter　next　to　the　telephone。　Jason　watched　closely；　prepared　to　ment　on　the　call　Bergeron　had　answered　in　the　event　the　woman's　eyes　settled　on　a　slightly　out…of…place　phone。　'Envoyez　Janine　id　avec　Us　vetements　sur　ptoir　cinq。　Aussi　la　facture。'　She　stood　up。　'Another　brandy；　Monsieur　Briggs？'
　'Merci　bien。'　Bourne　extended　his　glass；　she　took　it　and　walked　to　the　bar。　Jason　knew　the　time　bad　not　yet　arrived　for　what　he　had　in　mind；　it　would　e　soon　…　as　soon　as　he　parted　with　money　…　but　not　now。　He　could；　however；　continue　building　a　foundation　with　the　managing　partner　of　Les　Classiques。　'That　fellow；　Bergeron；'　he　said；　'you　say　he's　under　exclusive　contract　to　you？'
　Madame　Lavier　turned；　the　glass　in　her　hand。　'Oh；　yes'。　We　are　a　closely　knit　family　here。'
　Bourne　accepted　the　brandy；　nodded　his　thanks；　and　sat　down　in　an　armchair　in　front　of　the　desk。　That's　a　constructive　arrangement；'　he　said　pointlessly。
　The　tall；　gaunt　clerk　he　had　first　spoken　to　came　into　the　office；　a　salesbook　in　her　hand。　Instructions　were　given　rapidly；　figures　entered；　the　garments　gathered　and　separated　as　the　salesbook　exchanged　hands。　Lavier　held　it　out　for　Jason's　perusal。　'Lafacture；'　she　said。
　Bourne　shook　his　head；　dismissing　inspection。　'bien？'　he　asked。
　'Vingt　mille　soixante　francs；　monsieur；'　answered　the　Les　Classiques　partner；　watching　his　reaction　with　the　expression　of　a　large；　wary　bird。
　There　was　none。　Jason　merely　removed　six　five…thousand　franc　notes　and　handed　them　to　her。　She　nodded　and　gave　them　in　turn　to　the　slender　salesgirl；　who　walked　cadaverously　out　of　the　office　with　the　dresses。
　'Everything　will　be　packaged　and　brought　up　here　with　your　change。'　Lavier　went　to