rl.thebourneidentity-第32章

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　'What　I've　got　is　a　form　of　insanity。　A　sane　person　remembers。　I　don't'
　'Why　didn't　you　tell　me　Chernak　tried　to　kill　you？'
　〃There　wasn't　time　and　I　didn't　think　it　mattered。'
　'It　didn't　at　that　moment　…　to　you。　It　did　to　me。'
　'Why？'
　'Because　I　was　holding　onto　an　outside　hope　that　you　wouldn't　fire　your　gun　at　someone　who　hadn't　tried　to　kill　you　first。'
　'But　he　did。　I　was　wounded。'
　'I　didn't　know　the　sequence；　you　didn't　tell　me。'
　'I　don't　understand。'
　Marie　lit　a　cigarette。　'It's　hard　to　explain；　but　during　all　the　time　you　kept　me　hostage；　even　when　you　hit　me；　and　dragged　me　and　pressed　the　gun　into　my　stomach　and　held　it　against　my　head　…　God　knows；　I　was　terrified　…　but　I　thought　I　saw　something　in　your　eyes。。。　Call　it　reluctance。　It's　the　best　I　can　e　up　with。'
　'It'll　do。　What's　your　point？'
　'I'm　not　sure。　Perhaps　it　goes　back　to　something　else　you　said　in　the　booth　at　the　Drei　Alpenhauser。　That　fat　man　was　ing　over　and　you　told　me　to　stay　against　the　wall；　cover　my　face　with　my　hand。　〃For　your　own　good；〃　you　said。　〃There's　no　point　in　his　being　able　to　identify　you。〃'
　〃There　wasn't'
　'For　your　own　good。　That's　not　the　reasoning　of　a　pathological　killer。　I　think　I　held　onto　that　…　for　my　own　sanity；　maybe　…　that　and　the　look　in　your　eyes。'
　'I　still　don't　get　the　point'
　'The　man　with　the　gold…rimmed　glasses　who　convinced　me　he　was　the　police；　said　you　were　a　brutal　killer　who　had　to　be　stopped　before　he　killed　again。　Had　it　not　been　for　Chernak　I　wouldn't　have　believed　him。　On　either　point。　The　police　don't　behave　like　that；　they　don't　use　guns　in　dark；　crowded　places。　And　you　were　a　man　running　for　your　life　…　are　running　for　your　life　…　but　you're　not　a　killer。'
　Bourne　held　up　his　hand。　'Forgive　me；　but　that　strikes　me　as　a　judgment　based　on　false　gratitude。　You　say　you　have　a　respect　for　facts　…　then　look　at　them。　I　repeat：　you　heard　what　they　said　…　regardless　of　what　you　think　you　saw　and　feel　…　you　heard　the　words。　Boiled　down；　envelopes　were　filled　with　money　and　delivered　to　me　to　fulfil　certain　obligations。　I'd　say　those　obligations　were　pretty　clear；　and　I　accepted　them。　I　had　a　numbered　account　at　the　Gemeinschaft　Bank　containing　over　four　million　dollars。　Where　did　I　get　it？　Where　does　a　man　like　me　…　with　the　obvious　skills　I　have　…　get　that　kind　of　money？'　Jason　stared　at　the　ceiling。　The　pain　was　returning；　the　sense　of　futility　also。　'Those　are　the　facts；　Dr。　St　Jacques。　It's　time　you　left。'
　Marie　rose　from　the　chair　and　crushed　out　her　cigarette。　Then　she　picked　up　the　gun　and　walked　towards　the　bed。　'You're　very　anxious　to　condemn　yourself；　aren't　you？〃　'I　respect　facts。'
　'Then　if　what　you　say　is　true；　I　have　an　obligation；　too；　don't　I？　As　a　law…abiding　member　of　the　social　order　I　must　call　the　Zurich　police　and　tell　them　where　you　are。'　She　raised　the　gun。
　Bourne　looked　at　her。　'I　thought。。。'　'Why　not？'　she　broke　in。　'You're　a　condemned　man　who　wants　to　get　it　over　with；　aren't　you？　You　lie　there　talking　with　such　finality；　with；　if　you'll　forgive　me；　not　a　little　self…pity；　expecting　to　appeal　to　my。。。　what　was　it？　False　gratitude？　Well；　I　think　you'd　better　understand　something。　I'm　not　a　fool；　if　I　thought　for　a　minute　you're　what　they　say　you　are；　I　wouldn't　be　here　and　neither　would　you。　Facts　that　cannot　be　documented　aren't　facts　at　all。　You　don't　have　facts；　you　have　conclusions；　your　own　conclusions　based　on　statements　made　by　men　you　know　are　garbage。'
　'And　an　unexplained　bank　account　with　over　four　million　dollars　in　it。　Don't　forget　that。'
　'How　could　I？　I'm　supposed　to　be　a　financial　whiz。　That　account　may　not　be　explained　in　ways　that　you'd　like；　but　there's　a　proviso　attached　that　lends　a　considerable　degree　of　legitimacy　to　it。　It　can　be　inspected　…　probably　invaded　…by　any　certified　director　of　a　corporation　called　something…or…other　Seventy…one。　That's　hardly　an　affiliation　for　a　hired　killer。'
　The　corporation　may　be　named；　it　isn't　listed。'　'In　a　telephone　book？　You　are　naive。。。　But　let's　get　back　to　you。　Right　now。　Shall　I　really　call　the　police？'　'You　know　my　answer。　I　can't　stop　you；　but　I　don't　want　you　to。'
　Marie　lowered　the　gun。　'And　I　won't。　For　the　same　reason　you　don't　want　me　to。　I　don't　believe　what　they　say　you　are　any　more　than　you　do。'
　〃Then　what　do　you　believe？'
　'I　told　you；　I'm　not　sure。　All　I　really　know　is　that　seven　hours　ago　I　was　underneath　an　animal；　his　mouth　all　over　me；　his　hands　clawing　me。。。　and　I　knew　I　was　going　to　die。　And　then　a　man　came　back　for　me　…　a　man　who　could　have　kept　running　…　but　who　came　back　for　me　and　offered　to　die　in　my　place。　I　guess　I　believe　in　him。〃
　'Suppose　you're　wrong？'
　'Then　I'll　have　made　a　terrible　mistake。'
　'Thank　you。　Where's　the　money？'
　'On　the　bureau。　In　your　passport　case　and　wallet　Also　the　name　of　the　doctor　and　the　receipt　for　the　room。'
　'May　I　have　the　passport；　please？　That's　the　Swiss　currency。'
　'I　know。'　Marie　brought　them　to　him。　'I　gave　the　concierge　three　hundred　francs　for　the　room　and　two　hundred　for　the　name　of　the　doctor。　The　doctor's　services　came　to　four　hundred　and　fifty；　to　which　I　added　another　hundred　and　fifty　for　his　co…operation。　Altogether　I　paid　out　eleven　hundred　francs。'
　'You　don't　have　to　give　me　an　account；'　he　said。
　'You　should　know。　What　are　you　going　to　do？'
　'Give　you　money　so　you　can　get　back　to　Canada。'
　'I　mean　afterwards。〃
　'See　how　I　feel　later　on。　Probably　pay　the　concierge　to　buy　some　clothes。　Ask　him　a　few　questions。　I'll　be　all　right。'　He　took　out　a　number　of　large　bills　and　held　them　out　for　her。
　'That's　over　fifty　thousand　francs。'
　'I've　put　you　through　a　great　deal。'
　Marie　St　Jacques　looked　at　the　money；　then　down　at　the　gun　in　her　left　hand。　'I　don't　want　your　money；〃　she　said；　placing　the　weapon　on　the　bedside　table。
　'What　do　you　mean？'
　She　turned　and　walked　back　to　the　armchair；　turning　again　to　look　at　him　as　she　sat　down。　'I　think　I　want　to　help　you。'
　'Now　wait　a　minute。。。'
　'Please；'　she　interrupted。　'Please　don't　ask　me　any　questions。　Don't　say　anything　for　a　while。'
　Book　2
　Neither　of　them　knew　when　it　happened；　or；　in　truth；　whether　it　had　happened。　Or；　if　it　had；　to　what　lengths　either　would　go　to　preserve　it；　or　deepen　it。　There　was　no　essential　drama；　no　conflicts　to　overe　or　barriers　to　surmount。　All　that　was　required　was　munication；　by　words　and　looks；　and；　perhaps　as　vital　as　either　of　these；　the　frequent　acpaniment　of　quiet　laughter。
　Their　living　arrangements　in　the　room　at　the　village　inn　were　as　clinical　as　they　might　have　been　in　the　hospital　ward　it　replaced。　During　the　daylight　hours　Marie　took　care　of　various　practical　matters　such　as　clothes；　meals；　maps　and　newspapers。　On　her　own　she　had　driven　the　stolen　car　ten　miles　south　to　the　town　of　Reinach　where　she　had　abandoned　it；　taking　a　taxi　back　to　Lenzburg。　When　she　was　out　Bourne　concentrated　on　rest　and　mobility。　From　somewhere　in　his　forgotten　past　he　understood　that　recovery　depended　upon　both　and　he　applied　rigid　discipline　to　both；　he　had　been　there　before。。。　before　Port　Noir。
　When　they　were　together　they　talked；　at　first　awkwardly；　the　thrusts　and　parries　of　strangers　thrown　together　and　surviving　the　shock　waves　of　cataclysm。　They　tried　to　insert　normality　where　none　could　exist；　but　it　was　easier　when　they　both　accepted　the　essential　abnormality：　there　was　nothing　to　say　not　related　to　what　had　happened。　And　if　there　was；　it　would　begin　to　appear　only　during　those　moments　when　the　probing　of　what…had…happened　was　temporarily　exhausted；　the　silences　springboards　to　relief；　to　other　words　and　thoughts。
　It　was　during　such　moments　that　Jason　learned　the　salient　facts　about　the　woman　who　had　saved　his　life。　He　protested　that　she　knew　as　much　about　him　as　he　did；　but　he　knew　nothing　about　her。　Where　had　she　sprung　from？　Why　was　an　attractive　woman　with　dark　red　hair　and　skin　obviously　nurtured　on　a　farm　somewhere　pretending　to　be　a　Doctor　of　Economics。
　'Because　she　was　sick　of　the　farm；'　Marie　replied。
　'No　kidding？　A　farm；　really？'
　'Well；　a　small　ranch　would　be　more　like　it。　Small　in　parison　to　the　king…sized　ones　in　Alberta。　In　my　father's　time；　when　a　Canuke　we