rl.thebourneultimatum-第79部分

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　〃Forget　respect；　bello　ragazzo。　The　rules　are　different　in　this　house。　e　on　over　and　make　good　love　to　me。〃
　The　young　man　got　up　from　the　chair　and　walked　over　to　the　couch。
　Marie　sat　in　the　back　of　the　plane　drinking　coffee　from　a　plastic　cup；　trying　desperately　to　recall　every　place…every　hiding　and　resting　place…she　and　David　had　used　thirteen　years　ago。　There　were　the　rock…bottom　cafés　in　Montparnasse；　the　cheap　hotels　as　well；　and　a　motel…where　was　it？…ten　miles　outside　of　Paris；　and　an　inn　with　a　balcony　in　Argenteuil　where　David…Jason…first　told　her　he　loved　her　but　could　not　stay　with　her　because　he　loved　her…the　goddamned　ass！　And　there　was　the　Sacré…Coeur；　far　up　on　the　steps　where　Jason…David…met　the　man　in　a　dark　alley　who　gave　them　the　information　they　needed…what　was　it；　who　was　he？
　〃Mesdames　et　messieurs；〃　came　the　voice　over　the　flight　deck's　loudspeaker。　〃Jesuis　votre　capitaine。　Bienvenu。　〃The　pilot　continued　first　in　French；　then　he　and　his　crew　repeated　the　in　formation　in　English；　German；　Italian　and；　finally　with　a　female　interpreter；　in　Japanese。　〃We　anticipate　a　very　smooth　flight　to　Marseilles。　Our　estimated　flight　time　is　seven　hours　and　fourteen　minutes；　landing　on　or　before　schedule　at　six　o'clock　in　the　morning；　Paris　time。　Enjoy。〃
　The　moonlight　outside　bathed　the　ocean　below　as　Marie　St。　Jacques　Webb　looked　out　the　window。　She　had　flown　to　San　Juan；　Puerto　Rico；　and　taken　the　night　flight　to　Marseilles；　where　French　immigration　was　at　best　a　mass　of　confusion　and　at　worst　intentionally　lax。　At　least　that　was　the　way　it　was　thirteen　years　ago；　a　time　she　was　reentering。　She　would　then　take　a　domestic　flight　to　Paris　and　she　would　find　him。　As　she　had　done　thirteen　years　ago；　she　would　find　him。　She　had　to！　As　it　had　been　thirteen　years　ago；　if　she　did　not；　the　man　she　loved　was　a　dead　man。
　
　21
　Morris　Panov　sat　listlessly　in　a　chair　by　a　window　looking　out　over　the　pasture　of　a　farm　somewhere；　he　assumed；　in　Maryland。　He　was　in　a　small　second…floor　bedroom　dressed　in　a　hospital　nightshirt；　his　bare　right　arm　confirming　the　story　he　knew　only　too　well。　He　had　been　drugged　repeatedly；　taken　up　to　the　moon；　in　the　parlance　of　those　who　usually　administered　such　narcotics。　He　had　been　mentally　raped；　his　mind　penetrated；　violated；　his　innermost　thoughts　and　secrets　brought　chemically　to　the　surface　and　exposed。
　The　damage　he　had　done　was　incalculable；　he　understood　that；　what　he　did　not　understand　was　why　he　was　still　alive。　Even　more　perplexing　was　why　he　was　being　treated　so　deferentially。　Why　was　his　guard　with　the　foolish　black　mask　so　courteous；　the　food　plentiful　and　decent？　It　was　as　if　the　present　imperative　of　his　captivity　was　to　restore　his　strength…profoundly　sapped　by　the　drugs…and　make　him　as　fortable　as　possible　under　the　extraordinarily　difficult　circumstances。　Why？
　The　door　opened　and　his　masked　guard　walked　in；　a　short　heavyset　man　with　a　rasping　voice　Panov　placed　somewhere　in　the　northeastern　United　States　or　possibly　Chicago。　In　another　situation　he　might　have　appeared　ic；　his　large　head　too　massive　for　the　asinine　Lone　Ranger　eye…covering；　which　would　certainly　not　impede　instant　identification。　However；　in　the　current　state　of　affairs；　he　was　not　ic　at　all；　his　obsequiousness　was　in　itself　menacing。　Over　his　left　arm　were　the　psychiatrist's　clothes。
　〃Okay；　Doc；　you　gotta　get　dressed。　I　made　sure　everything　was　cleaned　and　pressed；　even　the　undershorts。　How　about　that？〃
　〃You　mean　you　have　your　own　laundry　and　dry　cleaners　out　here？〃
　〃Fuck　no；　we　take　'em　over　to…　Oh；　no；　you　don't　get　me　that　way；　Doc！〃　The　guard　grinned　with　slightly　yellowed　teeth。　〃Pretty　smart；　huh？　You　figure　I'll　tell　you　where　we　are；　huh？〃
　〃I　was　simply　curious。〃
　〃Yeah；　sure。　Like　I　got　a　nephew；　my　sister's　kid；　who's　always　'simply　curious；'　askin'　me　questions　I　don't　wanna　answer。　Like；　'Hey；　Unc；　how'd　you　put　me　through　medical　school；　huh？'　Yeah！　He's　a　doctor；　like　you；　what　do　you　think　of　that？〃
　〃I'd　say　his　mother's　brother　is　a　very　generous　person。〃
　〃Yeah；　well；　wadda　you　gonna　do；　huh？　。。。　e　on；　put　on　the　threads；　Doc；　we're　going　on　a　little　trip。〃　The　guard　handed　Mo　his　clothes。
　〃I　suppose　it　would　be　foolish　to　ask　where；〃　said　Panov；　getting　out　of　the　chair；　removing　his　hospital　nightshirt　and　putting　on　his　shorts。
　〃Very　foolish。〃
　〃I　hope　not　as　foolish　as　your　nephew　not　telling　you　about　a　symptom　you　have　that　I'd　find　somewhat　alarming　if　I　were　you。〃　Mo　casually　pulled　up　his　trousers。
　〃Wadda　you　talkin'？〃
　〃Perhaps　nothing；〃　replied　Panov；　putting　on　his　shirt　and　sitting　down　to　pull　up　his　socks。　〃When　did　you　last　see　your　nephew？〃
　〃A　couple　of　weeks　ago。　I　put　in　some　bread　to　cover　his　insurance。　Shit；　those　mothers　are　bleeders！　。。。　Wadda　you　mean　when　did　I　last　see　the　prick？〃
　〃I　just　wondered　if　he　said　anything　to　you。〃
　〃About　what？〃
　〃About　your　mouth。〃　Mo　laced　his　shoes　and　gestured　with　his　head。　〃There's　a　mirror　over　the　bureau；　go　take　a　look。〃
　〃At　what？〃　The　capo　subordinato　walked　quickly　to　the　mirror。
　〃Smile。〃
　〃At　what？〃
　〃Yourself。　。。。　See　the　yellow　on　your　teeth；　the　fading　red　of　your　gums　and　how　the　gums　recede　the　higher　they　go？〃
　〃So？　They　always　been　like　that…〃
　〃It　might　be。　nothing；　but　he　should　have　spotted　it。〃
　〃Spotted　what；　for　Christ's　sake？〃
　〃Oral　ameloblastoma。　Possibly。〃
　〃What　the　hell　is　that？　I　don't　brush　too　good　and　I　don't　like　dentists。　They're　butchers！〃
　〃You　mean　you　haven't　seen　a　dentist　or　an　oral　surgeon　in　quite　a　while？〃
　〃So？〃　The　capo　bared　his　teeth　again　in　front　of　the　mirror。
　〃That　could　explain　why　your　nephew　didn't　say　anything。〃
　〃Why？〃
　〃He　probably　figures　you　have　regular　dental　checkups；　so　let　those　people　explain　it　to　you。〃　Shoes　tied；　Panov　stood　up。
　〃I　don't　getcha。〃
　〃Well；　he's　grateful　for　everything　you've　done　for　him；　appreciative　of　your　generosity。　I　can　understand　why　he'd　hesitate　telling　you。〃
　〃Telling　me　what？〃　The　guard　spun　away　from　the　mirror。
　〃I　could　be　wrong　but　you　really　ought　to　see　a　periodontist。〃　Mo　put　on　his　jacket。　〃I'm　ready；〃　he　said。　〃What　do　we　do　now？〃
　The　capo　subordinato；　his　eyes　squinting；　his　forehead　creased　in　ignorance　and　suspicion；　reached　into　his　pocket　and　pulled　out　a　large　black　kerchief。　〃Sorry；　Doc；　but　I　gotta　blindfold　you。〃
　〃Is　that　so　you　can　put　a　bullet　in　my　head　when；　mercifully；　I　don't　know　it's　going　to　happen？〃
　〃No；　Doctor。　No　bam…bam　for　you。　You're　too　valuable。〃
　〃Valuable？〃　asked　the　capo　supremo　rhetorically　in　his　opulent　living　room　in　Brooklyn　Heights。　〃Like　a　gold　mine　just　popped　out　of　the　ground　and　landed　in　your　minestrone。　This　Jew　has　worked　on　the　heads　of　some　of　the　biggest　lasagnas　in　Washington。　His　files　have　got　to　be　worth　the　price　of　Detroit。〃
　〃You'll　never　get　them；　Louis；〃　said　the　attractive　middle…aged　man　dressed　in　an　expensive　tropical　worsted　suit　sitting　across　from　his　host。　〃They'll　be　sealed　and　carted　off　out　of　your　reach。〃
　〃Well；　we're　working　on　that；　Mr。　Park　Avenue；　Manhattan。　Say…just　for　laughs…say　we　got　'em。　What　are　they　worth　to　you？〃
　The　guest　permitted　himself　a　thin　aristocratic　smile。　〃Detroit？〃　he　replied。
　〃Va　bene！　I　like　you；　you　got　a　sense　of　humor。〃　As　abruptly　as　he　had　grinned；　the　mafioso　became　serious；　even　ugly。　〃The　five　mill　still　holds　for　this　Bourne…Webb　character；　right？〃
　〃With　a　proviso。〃
　〃I　don't　like　provisos；　Mr。　Lawyer；　I　don't　like　them　at　all。〃
　〃We　can　go　elsewhere。　You're　not　the　only　game　in　town。〃
　〃Let　me　explain　something　to　you；　Signor　Avvocato。　In　a　lot　of　ways；　we…all　of　we…are　the　only　game　in　town。　We　don't　mess　with　other　families'　hits；　you　know　what　I　mean？　Our　councils　have　decided　hits　are　too　personal；　it　makes　for　bad　blood。〃
　〃Will　you　listen　to　the　proviso？　I　don't　think　you'll　be　offended。〃
　〃Shoot。〃
　〃I　wish　you'd　use　another　word…〃
　〃Go　ahead。〃
　〃There'll　be　a　two…million…dollar　bonus　because　we　insist　you　include　Webb's　wife　and　his　government　friend　Conklin。〃
　〃Done；　Mr。　Park　Avenue；　Manhattan。〃
　〃Good。　Now　to　the　rest　of　our　business。〃
　〃I　want　to　talk　about　the　Jew。〃
　〃We'll