cpatricia.blacknotice-第56部分

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following　other　passengers　to　the　plane。
　　〃I　told　them　I'd　go　get　it。　Bunch　of　French　sons　of　bitches。　If　people　would　speak　English　like　they're　supposed　to；　this　kinds；　shit　wouldn't　happen。〃
　　Our　seats　were　together；　but　fortunately；　the　plane　wasn't　full；　so　I　moved　across　the　aisle　from　him。　He　seemed　to　take　this　personally　until　I　gave　him　half　of　my　chicken　with　lime　sauce；　my　sponge　roll　with　vanilla　mousse；　and　my　chocolates。　I　had　no　idea　how　many　beers　he　drank；　but　he　was　…up　and　down　a　lot；　making　his　way　along　the　narrow　aisle　while　we　flew　twice　the　speed　of　sound。　We　arrived　at　Charles　de　Gaulle　airport　at　6：20　P。m。
　　A　dark　blue　Mercedes　was　waiting　for　us　outside　the　terminal；　and　Marino　tried　to　strike　up　a　conversation　with　the　driver；　who　would　neither　let　him　sit　in　the　front　seat　nor　pay　any　attention　to　him。　Marino　sullenly　smoked　out　his　window；　cold　air　washing　in　as　he　watched　abject　apartments　scarred　with　graffiti　and　miles　of　switchyards　draw　us　into　a　lit…up　skyline　of　a　modern　city。　The　great　corporate　gods　of　Hertz；　Honda；　Technics　and　Toshiba　glittered　in　the　night　from　their　Mount　…Olympian　heights。
　　〃Hell；　this　may　as　well　be　Chicago；〃　Marino　plained。　〃I　feel　really　weird。〃
　　〃Jet　lag。〃
　　〃I　been　to　the　West　Coast　before　and　didn't　feel　like　this。〃
　　〃This　is　worse　jet　lag；〃　I　said。
　　〃I　think　it's　got　something　to　do　with　going　that　fast；〃　he　went　on。　〃Think　about　it。　You're　looking　out　this　little　porthole　like　you're　in　a　spaceship；　right？　You　can't　even　see　the　damn　horizon。　No　clouds　that　high；　air's　too　thin　to　breathe；　probably　a　hundred　degrees　below　zero。　No　birds；　no　normal　planes；　no　nothing。〃
　　A　police　officer　in　a　blue　and　white　Citroen　with　red　stripes　was　pulling　a　speeder　near　the　Banque　de　France。　Along　the　Boulevard　des　Capucines　shops　turned　into　designer　boutiques　for　the　very　rich；　and　I　was　reminded　that　I　had　failed　to　find　out　the　exchange　rate。
　　〃That's　why　I'm　hungry　again；〃　Marino　continued　his　scientific　explanation。　〃Your　metabolism's　got　to　pick　up　when　you're　going　that　fast。　Think　how　many　calories　that　is。　I　didn't　feel　nothing　once　I　got　through　Customs；　did　you？　Not　drunk　or　stuffed　or　nothing。〃
　　Not　much　decorating　had　been　done　for　Christmas；　not　even　in　the　heart　of　the　city。　Parisians　had　strung　modest　lights　and　swags　of　evergreen　outside　their　bistros　and　shops；　and　so　far　I　had　seen　not　a　single　Santa　except　the　tall　inflatable　one　in　the　airport　that　was　flapping　his　arms　as　if　he　were　doing　calisthenics。　The　season　was　celebrated　a　bit　more；　with　poinsettias　and　a　Christmas　tree；　in　the　marble　lobby　of　the　Grand　H8te1；　where　our　itinerary　let　us　know　we　were　staying。
　　〃Holy　shit；〃　Marino　said　looking　around　at　columns　and　at　a　huge　chandelier。　〃What　do　you　think　a　room　in　this　joint　costs？〃
　　The　musical　trilling　of　telephones　was　nonstop；　the　line　at　the　reception　desk　depressingly　long。　Baggage　was　parked　everywhere；　and　I　realized　with　grooving　despondency　that　a　tour　group　was　checking　in。
　　〃You　know　what；　Doc？〃　Marino　said。　〃I　won't　even　be　able　to　afford　a　beer　in　this　place。〃
　　〃If　you　ever　make　it　to　the　bar；〃　I　replied。　〃It　looks　like　we　may　be　here　all　night。〃
　　Just　as　I　said　that；　someone　touched　my　arm；　and　I　found　a　man　in　a　dark　suit　standing　next　to　me；　smiling。
　　〃Madame　Scarpetta；　Monsieur　Marino？〃　He　motioned　us　out　of　line。　〃I'm　so　sorry；　I　just　now　saw　you。　My　name　is　Ivan。　You're　already　checked　in。　Please；　I　will　show　you　to　your　rooms。〃
　　I　couldn't　place　his　accent；　but　it　certainly　wasn't　French。　He　led　us　through　the　lobby　to　minor…polished　brass　elevators；　where　he　pushed　the　button　for　the　third　floor。
　　〃Where　are　you　from？〃　I　asked。
　　〃All　over；　but　I　have　been　in　Paris　many　years。〃
　　We　followed　him　down　a　long　hallway　to　rooms　that　were　next　to　each　other；　but　not　connected。　I　was　startled　and　unnerved　to　find　our　baggage　was　already　inside　them。
　　〃If　you　need　anything；　call　for　me　specifically；〃　Ivan　said。　〃It's　probably　best　you　eat　in　the　café　here。　There's　a　table　for　you；　or　of　course；　there's　room　service。〃
　　He　briskly　walked　away　before　I　could　tip　him。　Marino　and　I　both　stood　in　our　doorways　staring　inside　our　rooms。
　　〃This　is　weirding　me　out；'　he　said。　〃I　don't　like　secret　squirrel　shit　like　this：　How　the　hell　do　we　know　who　he　is？　I　bet　he　don't　even　work　for　this　hotel。〃
　　〃Marino；　let's　not　have　this　conversation　in　the　hall；〃　I　said　quietly。　I　thought　if　I　did　not　have　even　a　few　moments　away　from　him　I　might　bee　violent。
　　〃So；　when　you　want　to　eat？〃
　　〃How　about　I　call　your　room；〃　I　said。
　　〃Well…；　I'm　really　hungry。〃
　　〃Why　don't　you　go　on　to　the　café；　Marino？〃　I　suggested；　praying　he　would。　〃I'll　get　something　later。〃
　　〃No；　I　think　we　better　stick　together；　Doc；〃　he　replied。
　　I　walked　inside　my　room　and　shut　the　door；　astonished　to　discover　my　suitcase　unpacked；　my　clothes　neatly　folded　and　already　in　drawers。　Slacks；　shirts　and　a　suit　were　hanging　in　the　closet；　toiletries　lined　up　on　the　counter　in　the　bathroom。　Instantly；　my　phone　rang。　I　had　no　doubt　who　it　was。
　　〃What？〃　I　said。
　　〃They　got　into　my　shit　and　put　everything　away！〃　Marino　blared　like　a　radio　turned　up　too　high。　〃Now；　I've　about　had　it。　I　don't　like　nobody　digging　in　my　bags。　Who　the　hell　they　think　they　are　over　here？　This　some　French　custom　or　something？　You　check　into　a　ritzy　hotel　and　they　go　through　your　luggage？〃
　　〃No；　it's　not　a　French　custom；〃　I　said：
　　〃So　it　must　be　some　Interpol　custom；〃　he　retorted。
　　〃I'll　call　you　later。〃
　　A　fruit　basket　and　bottle　of　wine　centered　a　table；　and　I　sliced　a　blood　orange　and　poured　a　glass　of　merlot。　I　pulled　back　heavy　drapes　and　stared　out　the　window　at　people　in　evening　dress　getting　into　fine　cars。　Gilt　sculptures　on　the　old　opera　house　across　the　street　flaunted　their　golden；　naked　beauty　before　the　gods；　and　chimney　pots　were　dark　stubble　on　miles　of　roofs。　I　felt　anxious　and　lonely　and　intruded　upon。
　　I　took　a　long　bath　and　thought　about　abandoning　Marino　for　the　rest　of　the　night；　but　decency　overruled。　He　had　never　been　to　Europe　before；　certainly　not　to　Paris；　and　more　to　the　point；　I　was　afraid　of　leaving　him　alone。　I　dialed　his　extension　and　asked　if　he　wanted　to　have　a　light　dinner　sent　up。　He　picked　pizza；　despite　my　warning　that　Paris　wasn't　known　for　it；　and　he　raided　my　minibar　for　beer。　I　ordered　oysters　on　the　half　shell　and　nothing　more；　and　turned　the　lights　very　low　because　I'd　seen　enough　for　one　day。
　　〃There's　something　I've　been　thinking　about；〃　he　said　after　the　food　had　arrived。　〃I　don't　like　to　bring　it　up；　Doc；
　　but　I'm　getting　a　really　oddball　feeling；　odd　as　hell。　I　mean；　well〃…he　took　a　bite　of　pizza…〃I'm　just　wondering　if　you're　feeling　it；　too。　If　the　same　thing　might　be　floating　in　your　head；　sort　of　out　of　nowhere　like　a　UFO。〃
　　I　put　down　my　fork。　The　lights　of　the　city　sparkled　beyond　my　windows　and　even　in　the　dim　lighting　I　could　see　his　fear。　I　responded　in　kind。
　　〃I　haven't　a　clue　as　to　what　you're　talking　about；〃　I　said；　reaching　for　my　wine。
　　〃Okay；　I　just　think　we　need　to　consider　something　for　a　minute：'
　　I　didn't　want　to　listen。
　　〃Well；　first　you　get　this　letter　delivered　by　a　United　States　senator　who　just　happens　to　be　the　chairman　of　the　Judiciary　mittee；　meaning　he's　got　about　as　much　power　with　federal　law　enforcement　as　any　other　person　I　can　think　of。　Meaning　he's　going　to　know　all　kinds　of　shit　going　on　with　Secret　Service；　ATF；　FBI；　you　name　it。〃
　　An　alarm　began　to　sound　inside　me。
　　〃You　gotta　admit　it's　interesting　timing　that　Senator　Lord　delivers　this　letter　to　you　from　Benton　and　now　all　of　a　sudden　we're　over　here　going　to　Interpol　。　。　。　〃
　　〃Let's　don't　do　this。〃　I　cut　him　off　as　my　stomach　tightened　and　my　heart　began　to　pound。
　　〃You　gotta　hear　me　out；　Doc　；〃　he　replied。　〃In　the　letter　Benton's　saying　for　you　to　stop　grieving；　that　everything's　all　right　and　he　knows　what　you're　doing　right　this　minute　。　。　：'
　　〃Stop　it！〃　I　raised　my　voice　and　threw　my　napkin　on　the　table　as　emotions　began　crashing　in　on　all　sides。
　　〃We　got　to　face　it〃　Marino　was　getting