rl.thebourneidentity-第66章

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s　envelopes　simply　to　〃Janine〃　and　〃Claude〃。　Rather　like　sending　missives　to　servants；　don't　you　think？　Could　you　ask　Jacqueline？'
　'It's　not　necessary；　Madame。　I　know　them。　And　may　I　say　that　Madame　is　as　sensitive　as　she　is　generous。　Janine　Dolbert　and　Claude　Oreale。'
　'Janine　Dolbert　and　Claude　Oreale；'　repeated　Marie；　looking　at　Jason。　'Janine　is　married　to　that　cute　pianist；　isn't　she？'
　'I　don't　believe　Mademoiselle　Dolbert　is　married　to　anyone。'
　'Of　course。　I'm　thinking　of　someone　else。'
　'If　I　may；　Madame；　I　didn't　catch　your　name。'
　'How　silly　of　me！'　Marie　thrust　the　phone　away　and　raised　her　voice。　'Darling；　you're　back；　and　so　soon！　That's　marvellous。　I'm　talking　to　those　lovely　people　at　Les　Classiques。。。　Yes；　right　away；　my　dear。'　She　pulled　the　phone　to　her　lips。
　Thank　you　so　much。　You've　been　very　kind。　She　hung　up。
　'If　you　ever　decide　to　get　out　of　economics；〃　said　Jason；　poring　through　the　Paris　telephone　book；　'go　into　sales。　I　bought　every　word　you　said。'
　'Were　the　descriptions　accurate？'
　To　a　cadaver　and　a　very　limp　wrist。　Nice　touch；　the　pianist！
　'It　struck　me　that　if　she　were　married；　the　phone　would　be　in　her　husband's　name。。。'
　'It　isn't；'　interrupted　Bourne。　'Here　it　is。　Dolbert；　Janine；　rue　Losserand。'　Jason　wrote　down　the　address。
　'Oreale；　that's　with　an　O；　isn't　it？　Not　An。'
　'I　think　so。'　Marie　lit　a　cigarette。　'You're　really　going　to　go　to　their　homes？'
　Bourne　nodded。　'If　I　picked　them　up　in　Saint…Honoree；　Carlos　will　have　it　watched。'
　'What　about　the　others？　Lavier；　Bergeron；　whoever…he…is　on　the　switchboard。〃
　Tomorrow。　Today's　for　the　groundswell。'
　The　what？'
　'Get　them　all　talking。　Running　around　saying　things　that　shouldn't　be　said。　By　closing　time；　word　will　be　spread　through　the　store　by　Dolbert　and　Oreale。　I'll　reach　the　two　others　tonight；　they'll　call　Lavier　and　the　man　at　the　switchboard。　We'll　have　the　first　shock　wave　and　then　the　second。　The　general's　phone　will　start　ringing　this　afternoon。　By　morning　the　panic　should　be　plete。'
　Two　questions；'　said　Marie；　getting　up　from　the　edge　of　the　bed　and　ing　towards　him。　'How　are　you　going　to　get　two　employees　away　from　Les　Classiques　during　working　hours？　And　what　people　will　you　get　tonight？'
　'Nobody　lives　in　a　deep　freeze；'　replied　Bourne；　looking　at　his　watch。　'Especially　in　haute　couture。　It's　eleven…fifteen　now；　I'll　reach　Dolbert's　apartment　by　noon　and　get　the　concierge　to　call　her　at　work。　He'll　tell　her　to　e　home　right　away。　There's　an　urgent；　very　personal　problem　she'd　better　deal　with。'
　'What　problem？'
　'I　don't　know；　but　who　hasn't　got　one？'
　'You'll　do　the　same　with　Oreale？'
　'Probably　even　more　effective。'
　'You're　outrageous；　Jason。'
　'I'm　deadly　serious；'　said　Bourne；　his　finger　once　again　sliding　down　a　column　of　names。　'Here　he　is。　Oreale；　Claude　Giselle。　No　ment。　Rue　Racine。　I'll　reach　him　by　three；　when　I'm　finished　he'll　head　right　back　to　Saint…Honoree　and　start　screaming。〃
　'What　about　the　other　two？　Who　are　they？'
　'I'll　get　names　from　either　Oreale　or　Dolbert；　or　both。　They　won't　know　it；　but　they'll　be　giving　me　the　second　shock　wave。〃
　Jason　stood　in　the　shadows　of　the　recessed　doorway　in　rue　Losserand。　He　was　fifteen　feet　from　the　entrance　to　Janine　Dolbert's　small　apartment　house　where　moments　before　a　bewildered　and　richer　concierge　had　obliged　a　well…spoken　stranger　by　calling　Mademoiselle　Dolbert　at　work　and　telling　her　that　a　gentleman　in　a　chauffeured　limousine　had　been　around　twice　asking　for　her。　He　was　back　again；　what　should　the　concierge　do？
　A　small　black　taxi　pulled　up　to　the　kerb　and　an　agitated；　cadaverous　Janine　Dolbert　literally　jumped　out。　Jason　rushed　from　the　doorway；　intercepting　her　on　the　pavement；　only　feet　from　the　entrance。
　That　was　quick；'　he　said；　touching　her　elbow。　'So　nice　to　see　you　again。　You　were　very　helpful　the　other　day。'
　Janine　Dolbert　stared　at　him；　her　lips　parted　in　recollection；　then　astonishment。　'You。　The　American；'　she　said　in　English。　'Monsieur　Briggs；　isn't　it？　Are　you　the　one　who。。。？'
　'I　told　my　chauffeur　to　take　an　hour　off。　I　wanted　to　see　you　privately。〃
　'Me？　What　could　you　possibly　wish　to　see　me　about？'
　'Don't　you　know？　Then　why　did　you　race　back　here？'
　The　wide　eyes　beneath　the　short　bobbed　hair　were　fixed　on　his；　her　pale　face　paler　in　the　sunlight。　'You're　from　the　House　of　Azur；　then？'　she　asked　tentatively。
　'I　could　be。'　Bourne　applied　a　bit　more　pressure　to　her　elbow。　'And？'
　'I've　delivered　what　I　promised。　There　will　be　nothing　more；　we　agreed　to　that。〃
　'Are　you　sure？'
　'Don't　be　an　idiot！　You　don't　know　Paris　couture。　Someone　will　get　furious　with　someone　else　and　make　bitchy　ments　in　your　own　studio。　What　strange　deviations！　And　when　the　autumn　line　es　out。　with　you　parading　half　of　Bergeron's　designs　before　he　does；　how　long　do　you　think　I　can　stay　at　Les　Classiques？　I'm　Lavier's　number　two　girl；　one　of　the　few　who　has　access　to　her　office。　You'd　better　take　care　of　me　as　you　promised。　In　one　of　your　Los　Angeles　shops。'
　'Let's　take　a　walk；'　said　Jason；　gently　propelling　her。　'You've　got　the　wrong　man；　Janine。　I've　never　heard　of　the　House　of　Azur　and　haven't　the　slightest　interest　in　stolen　designs　…　except　where　the　knowledge　can　be　useful。'
　'Oh；　my　God！。。。'
　'Keep　walking。'　Bourne　gripped　her　arm。　'I　said　I　wanted　to　talk　to　you。'
　'About　what？　What　do　you　want　from　me？　How　did　you　get　my　name？'　The　words　came　rapidly　now；　the　phrases　overlapping。　'I　took　an　early　lunch　hour　and　must　return　at　once；　we're　very　busy　today。　Please；　you're　hurting　my　arm。'
　'Sorry。'
　'What　I　said；　it　was　foolishness。　A　lie。　On　the　floor；　we've　heard　rumours；　I　was　testing　you。　That's　what　I　was　doing；　I　was　testing　you！'
　'You're　very　convincing。　I'll　accept　that。'
　'I'm　loyal　to　Les　Classiques。　I've　always　been　loyal。'
　'It's　a　fine　quality；　Janine。　I　admire　loyalty。　I　was　saying　that　the　other　day　to。。。　what's　his　name？。。。　that　nice　fellow　on　the　switchboard。　What　is　his　name？　I　forget。'
　'Philippe；'　said　the　salesgirl；　frightened；　obsequious。　'Philippe　d'Anjou。'
　〃That's　it。　Thank　you。'　They　reached　a　narrow；　cobblestone　alleyway　between　two　buildings。　Jason　guided　her　into　it。　'Let's　step　in　here　for　a　moment；　just　so　we're　off　the　street。　Don't　worry；　you　won't　be　late。　I'll　only　take　a　few　minutes　of　your　time。'　They　walked　ten　paces　into　the　narrow　enclosure。　Bourne　stopped；　Janine　Dolbert　pressed　her　back　against　the　brick　wall。　'Cigarette？'　he　asked；　taking　a　packet　from　his　pocket。
　〃Thank　you；　yes。'
　He　lighted　it　for　her；　noting　that　her　hand　trembled。　'Relaxed　now？'
　'Yes。。。　No；　not　really。　What　do　you　want；　Monsieur　Briggs？'
　To　begin　with；　the　name's　not　Briggs　but　I　think　you　know　that。'
　'I　don't。　Why　should　I？'　'I　was　sure　Lavier's　number　one　girl　would　have　told　you。'
　'Monique？'
　'Use　last　names；　please。　Accuracy's　important'
　'Brielle；　then；'　said　Janine　frowning　curiously。　'Does　she　know　you？〃
　'Why　not　ask　her？〃
　'As　you　wish。　What　is　it。　Monsieur？'
　Jason　shook　his　head。　'You　really　don't　know；　do　you？　Three…quarters　of　the　employees　at　Les　Classiques　are　working　with　us　and　one　of　the　brightest　wasn't　even　contacted。　Of　course　it's　possible　someone　thought　you　were　a　risk；　it　happens。'
　〃What　happens？　What　risk？　Who　are　you？'
　There　isn't　time　now。　The　others　can　fill　you　in。　I'm　here　because　we've　never　received　a　report　from　you；　and　yet　you　speak　to　prime　customers　all　day　long。'
　'You　must　be　clearer；　Monsieur。〃
　'Let's　say　I'm　the　spokesman　for　a　group　of　people　…　American；　French；　English；　Dutch　…　closing　in　on　a　killer　who's　murdered　political　and　military　leaders　in　each　of　our　countries。'
　'Murdered？　Military；　political。。。'　Janine's　mouth　gaped；　the　ash　of　her　cigarette　breaking　off；　spilling　over　her　rigid　hand。　'What　is　this？　What　are　you　talking　about？　I've　heard　none　of　this！'
　'I　can　only　apologize；'　said　Bourne　softly；　sincerely。　'You　should　have　been　contacted　several　weeks　ago。　It　was　an　error　on　the　part　of　the　man　before　me。　I'm　sorry；　it　must　be　a　shock　to　you。'
　'It　is　a　shock；　Monsieur；'　whispered　the　salesgirl；　her　concave　body　tensed；　a　bent；　lacquered　reed　against　the　brick。　'You　speak　of　things　beyond　my　understanding。'
　'But　now　/　understand；'　interrupted　Jason。　'Not　a　word　from　you　about　anyone。　Now　it's　clear。'
　'It's　not　to　me。'
　'We're　closing　in　on　Carlos。　The　assassin　known　as　Carlos。'
　'Carlos？'　The　cigarette　fell　from　Dolbert's　hand；　the　shock　plete。
　'He's　one　of　your　most　frequent　customers；　all　the　evidence　points　to　it。　We've　narrowed　the　probabilities　down　to　eight　men。　The　trap　is　set　for　some　time　in　the　next　several　days；　and　we're　taking　every　precaution。
　'Precaution。。。？'
　〃There's　always　the　danger　of　hostages；　we　all　know　that。　We　anticipate　gunfire；　but　it　will　be　kept　to　a　minimum。　The　basic　problem　will　be　Carlos　himself。　He's　sworn　never　to　be　taken　alive；　he　walks　the　streets　wired　up　to　explosives　calculated　to　be　in　excess　of　a　thousand…pound　bomb。　But　we　can　handle　that。　Our　marksmen　will　be　on　the　scene；　one　clean　shot　to　the　head　and　it'll　be　all　over。'
　'Un　coup　de　feu。。　'
　Suddenly　Bourne　looked　at　his　watch。　'I've　taken　up　enough　of　your　time。　You've　got　to　get　back　to　the　shop　and　I　have　to　get　back　to　my　post。　Remember；　if　you　see　me　outside；　you　don't　know　me。　If　I　e　into　Les　Classiques；　treat　me　as　you　would　any　rich　client。　Except　if　you've　spotted　a　customer　you　think　may　be　our　man；　then　don't　waste　time　telling　me。。。　Again；　I'm　sorry　about　all　this。　It　was　a　breakdown　in　munications；　that's　all。　It　happens。'
　'Une　rupture。。。？'
　Jason　nodded；　turned　in　place；　and　began　walking　rapidly　out　of　the　alleyway　towards　the　street。　He　stopped　and　glanced　back　at　Janine　Dolbert。　She　was　atose　against　the　wall；　for　her　the　elegant　world　of　haute　couture　was　spinning　wildly　out　of　orbit
　Philippe　d'Anjou。　The　name　meant　nothing　to　him；　but　Bourne　could　not　help　himself。　He　kept　repeating　it　silently；　trying　to　raise　an　image。。。　as　the　face　of　the　grey…haired　switchboard　operator　gave　rise　to　such　violent　images　of　darkness　and　flashes　of　light。　Philippe　d'Anjou。　Nothing。　Nothing　at　all。　Yet　there　had　been　something；　something　that　caused　Jason's　stomach　to　knot；　the　muscles　taut　and　inflexible；　a　flat　panel　of　hard　flesh　constricted。。。　by　the　darkness。
　He　sat　by　the　front　window　and　the　door　of　a　coffee　shop　on　the　rue　Racine；　prepared　to　get　up　and　leave　the　moment　he　saw　the　figure　of　Claude　Oreale　arrive　at　the　doorway　of　the　ancient　building　across　the　street。　His　room　was　on　the　fourth　floor；　in　a　flat　he　shared　with　two　other　young　men；　reached　only　by　climbing　a　worn；　angular　staircase。　When　he　did　arrive；　Bourne　was　sure　he　would　not　be　walking。
　For　Claude　Oreale；　who　had　been　so　effusive　with　Jacqueline
　Lavier　on　another　staircase　in　Saint…Honoree；　had　been　told　by　a　toothless　landlady　over　the　phone　to　get　his　worthless　self　quickly　back　to　rue　Racine　and　put　a　stop　to　the　screaming　and　smashing　of　furniture　that　was　taking　place　in　his　flat。　Either　he　would　stop　it；　or　the　gendarmes　would　be　called；　he　had　ten　minutes　to　show　up。
　He　did　so　in　eight。　His　slight　frame；　encased　in　a　Pierre　Cardin　suit　…