rl.thebourneidentity-第9部分

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　telephone　on　a　desk　by　a　window。　He　crossed　to　it　and　yanked　the　cord　out　of　the　socket。　'Now　no　one　will　disturb　you；'　he　added；　picking　up　the　knapsack。
　'You　won't　go　free；　you　know！'　snapped　Chambord。　'You　won't　get　away　with　this　I　The　police　will　find　you！'
　'The　police？'　asked　the　intruder。　'Do　you　really　think　you　should　call　the　police？　A　formal　report　will　have　to　be　made；　the　circumstances　described。　I'm　not　so　sure　that's　such　a　good　idea。　I　think　you'd　be　better　off　waiting　for　that　fellow　to　pick　you　up　later　this　afternoon。　I　heard　him　say　he　was　going　to　get　you　past　the　Marquise　into　the　stables。　All　things　considered；　I　honestly　believe　that's　what　you　should　do。　I'm　sure　you　can　e　up　with　a　better　story　than　what　really　happened　here。　I　won't　contradict　you。'
　The　unknown　thief　left　the　room；　closing　the　damaged　door　behind　him。
　You　are　not　helpless。　You　will　find　your　way。
　So　far　he　had　and　it　was　a　little　frightening。　What　had　Wash…burn　said？　That　his　skills　and　talents　would　e　back。。。　but　I　don't　think　you'll　ever　be　able　to　relate　them　to　anything　in　your　past。　The　past。　What　kind　of　past　was　it　that　produced　the　skills　he　had　displayed　during　the　past　twenty…four　hours？　Where　had　he　learned　to　maim　and　cripple　with　lunging　feet；　and　fingers　entwined　into　hammers？　How　did　he　know　precisely　where　to　deliver　the　blows？　Who　had　taught　him　to　play　upon　the　criminal　mind；　provoking　and　evoking　a　reluctant　mitment？　How　did　he　zero　in　so　quickly　on　mere　implications；　convinced　beyond　doubt　that　his　instincts　were　right？　Where　had　he　learned　to　discern　instant　extortion　in　a　casual　conversation　overheard　in　a　butcher's　shop？　More　to　the　point；　perhaps；　was　the　simple　decision　to　carry　out　the　crime。　My　God；　how　could　he？
　The　more　you　fight　it；　the　more　you　crucify　yourself；　the　worse　it　will　be。
　He　concentrated　on　the　road　and　on　the　mahogany　dashboard　of　the　Marquis　de　Chambord's　Jaguar。　The　array　of　instruments　were　not　familiar；　his　past　did　not　include　extensive　experience　with　such　cars。　He　supposed　that　told　him　something。
　In　less　than　an　hour　he　crossed　a　bridge　over　a　wide　canal　and　knew　he　had　reached　Marseilles。　Small　square　houses　of　stone；　angling　like　blocks　up　from　the　water；　narrow　streets　and　walls　everywhere　…　the　outskirts　of　the　old　harbour。　He　knew　it　all；　and　yet　he　did　not　know　it。　High　in　the　distance；　silhouetted　on　one　of　the　surrounding　hills；　were　the　outlines　of　a　huge　cathedral；　a　statue　of　the　Virgin　seen　clearly　atop　its　steeple。　Notre…Dame　de　la　Garde。　The　name　came　to　him；　he　had　seen　it　before　…　and　yet　he　had　not　seen　it。
　Oh；　Christ！　Stop　it！
　Within　minutes　he　was　in　the　pulsing　centre　of　the　city；　driving　along　the　crowded　rue　Cannebiere；　with　its　proliferation　of　expensive　shops；　the　rays　of　the　afternoon　sun　bouncing　off　expanses　of　tinted　glass　on　either　side；　and　on　either　side　enormous　pavement　cafes。　He　turned　left；　towards　the　harbour；　passing　warehouses　and　small　factories　and　fenced…off　areas　that　contained　cars　prepared　for　transport　north　to　the　showrooms　of　Saint…Etienne；　Lyons　and　Paris。　And　to　points　south　across　the　Mediterranean。
　Instinct。　Follow　instinct。　For　nothing　could　be　disregarded。　Every　resource　had　an　immediate　use；　there　was　value　in　a　rock　if　it　could　be　thrown；　or　a　vehicle　if　someone　wanted　it。　He　chose　a　lot　where　the　cars　were　both　new　and　used；　but　all　expensive；　he　parked　at　the　kerb　and　got　out。　Beyond　the　fence　was　a　small　cavern　of　a　garage；　mechanics　in　overalls　laconically　wandering　about　carrying　tools。　He　walked　casually　around　inside　until　he　spotted　a　man　in　a　thin　pin…striped　suit　whom　instinct　told　him　to　approach。
　It　took　less　than　ten　minutes；　explanations　kept　to　a　minimum；　a　Jaguar's　disappearance　to　North　Africa　guaranteed；　with　the　filing　of　engine　numbers。
　The　silver　monogrammed　keys　were　exchanged　for　six　thousand　francs；　roughly　one…fifth　the　value　of　Chambord's　car。　Then　Or　Washburn's　patient　found　a　taxi　and　asked　to　be　taken　to　a　pawnbroker　…　but　not　an　establishment　that　asked　too　many　questions。　The　message　was　clear；　this　was　Marseilles。　And　half　an　hour　later　the　gold　Gerard…Perregaux　was　no　longer　on　his　wrist；　having　been　replaced　by　a　Seiko　chronograph　and　eight　hundred　francs。　Everything　had　a　value　in　relationship　to　its　practicality；　the　chronograph　was　shockproof。
　The　next　stop　was　a　medium…sized　department　store　in　the　south…east　section　of　rue　Cannebiere。　Clothes　were　chosen　off　the　racks　and　shelves；　paid　for　and　worn　out　of　the　fitting　rooms；　an　ill…fitting　dark　blazer　and　trousers　left　behind。
　From　a　display　on　the　floor；　he　selected　a　soft　leather　suitcase；　additional　garments　were　placed　inside　with　the　knapsack。　The　patient　glanced　at　his　new　watch；　it　was　nearly　five　o'clock；　time　to　find　a　fortable　hotel。　He　had　not　really　slept　for　several　days；　he　needed　to　rest　before　his　appointment　in　the　rue　Sarasin；　at　a　cafe　called　Le　Bouc　de　Mer；　where　arrangements　could　be　made　for　a　more　important　appointment　in　Zurich。
　He　lay　back　on　the　bed　and　stared　at　the　ceiling；　the　wash　of　the　streetlamps　below　causing　irregular　patterns　of　light　to　dance　across　the　smooth　white　surface。　Night　had　e　rapidly　to　Marseilles；　and　with　its　arrival　a　certain　sense　of　freedom　came　to　the　patient。　It　was　as　if　the　darkness　were　a　gigantic　blanket；　blocking　out　the　harsh　glare　of　daylight　that　revealed　too　much　too　quickly。　He　was　learning　something　else　about　himself：　he　was　more　fortable　in　the　night。　Like　a　half…starved　cat　he　would　forage　better　in　the　darkness。　Yet　there　was　a　contradiction；　and　he　recognized　that；　too。　During　the　months　in　lie　de　Port　Noir；　he　had　craved　the　sunlight；　hungered　for　it；　waited　for　it　each　dawn；　wishing　only　for　the　darkness　to　go　away。
　Things　were　happening　to　him；　he　was　changing。
　Things　had　happened。　Events　that　gave　a　certain　lie　to　the　concept　of　foraging　more　successfully　at　night。　Twelve　hours　ago　he　was　on　a　fishing　boat　in　the　Mediterranean；　an　objective　in　mind　and　two　thousand　francs　strapped　to　his　waist。　Two　thousand　francs；　something　less　than　five　hundred　American　dollars　according　to　the　daily　rate　of　exchange　posted　in　the　hotel　lobby。　Now　he　was　outfitted　with　several　sets　of　acceptable　clothing　and　lying　on　a　bed　in　a　reasonably　expensive　hotel　with　something　over　twenty…three　thousands　francs　in　a　Louis　Vuitton　wallet　belonging　to　the　Marquis　de　Chambord。　Twenty…three　thousand　francs。。。　nearly　six　thousand　American　dollars。
　Where　had　he　e　from　that　he　was　able　to　do　the　things　he　did？
　Stop　it！
　The　rue　Sarasin　was　so　ancient　that　in　another　city　it　might　have　been　considered　a　landmark；　a　wide　brick　alley　connecting　streets　built　centuries　later。　But　this　was　Marseilles；　ancient　coexisted　with　old；　both　unfortable　with　the　new。　The　rue　Sarasin　was　no　more　than　two　hundred　yards　long；　frozen　in　time　between　the　stone　walls　of　waterfront　buildings；　devoid　of　streetlights；　trapping　the　mists　that　rolled　off　the　harbour。　It　was　a　back　street　conducive　to　brief　meetings　between　men　who　did　not　care　for　their　conferences　to　be　observed。
　The　only　light　and　sound　came　from　Le　Bouc　de　Mer。　The　cafe　was　situated　roughly　in　the　centre　of　the　alley；　its　premises　once　a　nineteenth…century　office　building。　A　number　of　cubicles　had　been　taken　down　to　allow　for　a　large　bar…room　and　tables；　an　equal　number　were　left　standing　for　less　public　appointments。　These　were　the　waterfront's　answer　to　those　private　rooms　found　at　restaurants　along　La　Cannebiere；　and；　as　befitting　their　status；　there　were　curtains；　but　no　doors。
　The　patient　made　his　way　between　the　crowded　tables；　cutting　his　way　through　the　layers　of　smoke；　excusing　himself　past　lurching　fishermen　and　drunken　soldiers　and　red…faced　whores　looking　for　beds　to　rest　in　as　well　as　a　few　francs。　He　peered　into　a　succession　of　cubicles；　a　crewman　looking　for　his　panions　until　he　found　the　captain　of　the　fishing　boat　There　was　another　man　at　the　table。　Thin；　pale…faced；　narrow　eyes　peering　up　like　a　curious　ferret's。
　'Sit　down；'　said　the　dour　skipper。　'I　thought　you'd　be　here　before　this。'
　'You　said　between　nine　and　eleven。　It's　quarter　to　eleven。'
　'You　stretch　the　tim