rl.thebourneultimatum-第84部分

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led　up　from　the　south　side　of　the　boulevard；　ringing　the　muted　bells　on　their　handlebars　as　they　stopped　in　front　of　the　house　that　was　supposedly　the　quarters　of　the　Magdalen　Sisters　of　Charity。　The　door　opened　and　three　additional　nuns；　each　carrying　a　bicycle；　walked　out　and　down　the　brick　steps　to　join　their　charitable　sisters。　They　discreetly　mounted　their　saddles　and　the　procession　started　up　the　street；　the　one　consoling　fact　for　Jason　was　that　Carlos's　indignant　nun　took　up　the　single　rear　position。　Not　knowing　how　it　would　happen；　knowing　only　that　it　would　happen；　Bourne　lurched　out　of　the　storefront　and　ran　across　the　dark　boulevard。　As　he　reached　the　shadows　of　the　deserted　lot　adjacent　to　the　Jackal's　house；　another　door　opened。　He　crouched；　watching　the　overweight　irate　baker　waddle　rapidly　down　his　brick　steps　and　head　south。　Bernardine　had　his　work　cut　out　for　him；　too；　thought　Jason　as　he　got　to　his　feet　and　ran　after　his　procession　of　cycling　nuns。
　Paris　traffic　is　an　endless　enigma　regardless　of　the　hour　of　day　or　night。　It　also　provides　palpable　excuses　for　anyone　wishing　to　be　early　or　late；　or　having　arrived　at　the　right　destination　or　the　wrong　one。　In　a　phrase；　Parisians　behind　a　steering　wheel　embody　the　last　civilized　vestiges　of　lethal　abandon…possibly　outdone　by　their　counterparts　in　Rome　or　Athens。　And　so　it　was　for　the　Magdalen　Sisters　of　Charity；　especially　for　the　officious　superior　hen　on　the　single　rear　point。　At　an　intersection　of　the　rue　Lecourbe　in　Montparnasse；　a　congestion　of　produce　trucks　prevented　her　from　keeping　up　with　her　religious　colleagues。　Benignly　she　waved　them　on　and　abruptly　turned　into　a　narrow　side　street；　suddenly　pedaling　faster　than　before。　Bourne；　his　wound　from　Tranquility　Isle　now　pulsating　throughout　his　neck；　did　not　increase　his　pace；　he　did　not　have　to。　The　white…lettered　blue　sign　on　the　building　fronting　the　street　read　IMPASSE；　a　dead　end；　there　was　no　other　way　out。
　He　found　the　bicycle　chained　to　an　extinguished　street　lamp　and　waited　in　the　darkness　of　a　doorway　no　more　than　fifteen　feet　away。　He　raised　his　hand　and　touched　the　warm　moistness　of　the　bandage　around　his　neck；　the　bleeding　was　slight。　With　luck；　no　more　than　one　suture　had　burst。　。。。　Oh；　Christ；　his　legs　were　tired…no；　〃tired〃　was　inadequate。　They　ached　with　the　pain　that　came　with　unused　and　abused　muscles；　the　rhythmic　strides　of　jogging；　even　running；　were　no　preparation　for　lurching　or　weaving；　or　for　violently　sudden　stops　and　starts。　He　leaned　against　the　stone；　breathing　heavily；　his　eyes　on　the　bicycle；　trying　to　suppress　a　thought　that　kept　recurring　with　infuriating　regularity：　only　a　few　short　years　ago；　he　would　never　have　noticed　the　disfort　in　his　legs。　There　would　have　been　none。
　The　sound　of　an　unlatched　bolt　broke　the　stillness　of　the　predawn　narrow　street；　followed　rapidly　by　the　grating　noise　of　a　heavy　door　being　opened。　It　was　the　entrance　to　the　flat　in　front　of　the　chained　bicycle。　His　back　against　the　wall；　Jason　removed　the　gun　from　his　belt　and　watched　the　woman　in　the　nun's　habit　rush　to　the　lamppost。　She　fumbled　with　a　key　in　the　dim　light；　awkwardly　trying　to　insert　it　into　the　base　of　the　lock。　Bourne　stepped　out　on　the　pavement　and　walked　swiftly；　silently　forward。
　〃You'll　be　late　for　early　Mass；〃　he　said。
　The　woman　spun　around；　the　key　flying　into　the　street；　her　black　cloth　snapping　in　the　turn　as　she　plunged　her　right　hand　between　the　folds　of　her　habit。　Jason　lurched；　gripping　her　arm　with　his　left　hand　and　tearing　off　the　large　white　hat　with　his　right。　At　the　sight　of　the　exposed　face　in　front　of　him；　he　gasped。
　〃My　God；〃　he　whispered。　〃It's　you！〃
　
　27
　〃I　know　you！〃　cried　Bourne。　〃Paris　。。。　years　ago　。。。　your　name　is　Lavier　。。。　Jacqueline　Lavier。　You　had　one　of　those　dress　shops　。。。　Les　Classiques…St。…Honoré…Carlos's　drop　in　the　Faubourg！　I　found　you　in　a　confessional　booth　in　Neuilly…sur…Seine。　I　thought　you　were　dead。〃　The　woman's　sharp；　creased；　middle…aged　fade　was　contorted　in　frenzy。　She　tried　to　twist　out　of　his　grip；　but　Jason　stepped　sideways　as　she　pivoted；　yanking　her　away　in　a　sweeping　circular　motion；　crashing　her　against　the　wall；　pinning　her；　his　left　forearm　across　her　throat。　〃But　you　weren't　dead。　You　were　part　of　the　trap　that　ended　at　the　Louvre；　blew　apart　at　the　Louvre！　。。。　By　Christ；　you're　ing　with　me。　Men　died　in　that　trap…Frenchmen　died…and　I　couldn't　stay　around　and　tell　them　how　it　happened　or　who　was　responsible。　。。。　In　my　country；　you　kill　a　cop；　it　doesn't　go　off　the　books。　It's　no　different　over　here；　and　when　it's　cops；　they　don't　stop　looking。　Oh；　they'll　remember　the　Louvre；　they'll　remember　their　men！〃
　〃You're　wrong！〃　choked　the　woman；　her　wide　green　eyes　bulging。　〃I'm　not　who　you　think　I　am…〃
　〃You're　Lavier！　Queen　of　the　Faubourg；　sole　contact　to　the　Jackal's　woman；　the　general's　wife。　Don't　tell　me　I'm　wrong　。。。　I　followed　the　two　of　you　out　to　Neuilly…to　that　church　with　the　bells　ringing　and　priests　everywhere…one　of　them　Carlos！　Moments　later　his　whore　came　back　out；　but　you　didn't。　She　left　in　a　hurry；　so　I　ran　inside　and　described　you　to　an　old　priest…if　he　was　a　priest…and　he　told　me　you　were　in　the　second　confessional　from　the　left。　I　walked　over　and　pulled　the　curtain　and　there　you　were。　Dead。　I　thought　you'd　just　been　killed　and　everything　was　happening　so　fast。　Carlos　had　to　be　there！　He　was　within　my　reach；　my　gun…or　maybe　I　was　within　his。　I　raced　around　like　a　maniac　and　finally　I　saw　him！　Out　in　the　street　in　his　priestly　black　clothes…I　saw　him；　I　knew　it　was　him　because　he　saw　me　and　started　to　run　through　the　traffic。　And　then　I　lost　him；　I　lost　him！　。。。　But　I　had　a　card　to　play。　You。　I　passed　the　word…Lavier's　dead。　。。。　It　was　just　what　I　was　supposed　to　do；　wasn't　it？　Wasn't　it？〃
　〃I　tell　you　again；　you　are　wrong！〃　The　woman　no　longer　struggled；　it　was　pointless。　Instead；　she　remained　rigid　against　the　wall；　no　part　of　her　body　moving；　as　if　by　doing　so　she　might　be　permitted　to　speak。　〃Will　you　listen　to　me？〃　she　asked　with　difficulty；　Jason's　forearm　still　pressed　against　her　throat。
　〃Forget　it；　lady；〃　answered　Bourne。　〃You're　going　out　of　here　limp…a　Sister　of　Charity　being　helped；　not　assaulted；　by　a　stranger。　You're　about　to　have　a　fainting　spell。　At　your　age　it's　a　fairly　mon　occurrence；　isn't　it？〃
　〃Wait。〃
　〃Too　late。〃
　〃We　must　talk！〃
　〃We　will。〃　Releasing　his　arm；　Jason　instantly　crashed　both　his　hands　simultaneously　into　the　woman's　shoulder　blades　where　the　tendons　weave　into　the　neck　muscles。　She　collapsed；　he　caught　her　in　the　fall　and　carried　her　out　of　the　narrow　street　as　an　adoring　supplicant　might　a　religious　social　worker。　The　dawn　light　was　beginning　to　fill　the　sky；　and　several　early　risers；　one　a　young　jogger　in　shorts；　converged　on　the　man　carrying　the　nun。　〃She's　been　with　my　wife　and　sick　children　for　nearly　two　days　without　sleep！〃　pleaded　the　Chameleon　in　street　French。　〃Will　someone　please　find　me　a　taxi　so　I　can　take　her　back　to　her　convent　in　the　ninth　arrondissement？〃
　〃I　shall！〃　roared　the　young　runner。　〃There's　an　all…night　stand　on　the　rue　de　Sèvres；　and　I'm　very　fast！〃
　〃You　are　a　gift；　monsieur；〃　said　Jason；　appreciating　but　instantly　disliking　the　all　too　confident；　all　too　young　jogger。
　Six　minutes　later　the　taxi　arrived；　the　youth　inside。　〃I　told　the　driver　you　have　money；〃　he　said；　climbing　out。　〃I　trust　it's　so。〃
　〃Of　course。　And　thanks。〃
　〃Tell　the　sister　what　I　did；〃　added　the　young　man　in　running　shorts；　helping　Bourne　gently　insert　the　unconscious　woman　into　the　back　of　the　taxi。　〃I'll　need　all　the　help　I　can　get　when　my　time　es。〃
　〃I　trust　that's　not　imminent；〃　said　Jason；　trying　to　return　the　youth's　grin。
　〃Not　likely！　I　represent　my　firm　in　the　marathon。〃　The　overgrown　child　began　running　in　place。
　〃Thanks　again。　I　hope　you　win　the　next　one。〃
　〃Tell　the　sister　to　pray　for　me！〃　cried　the　athlete；　racing　away。
　〃The　Bois　de　Boulogne；〃　said　Bourne；　closing　the　door　and　addressing　the　driver。
　〃The　Bois？　That　ventilating　nut　told　me　it　was　an　emergency！　You　had　to　get　the　nun　to　a　hospital。〃
　〃She　drank　too　much　wine；　what　can　I　tell　you？〃
　〃The　Bois　de　Boulogne；〃　said　the　driver；　nodding　his　head。　〃Let　her　walk　it　off。　I　have　a　second　cousin　in　the　Lyons　convent。　She　gets　out　for　a　week　she's　soused　to　the　temples。　Who　can　blame　her？〃
　The　bench　on　the　graveled　path　of　the　Bois　progressively　received　the　warm　rays　of　the　early　sun　as　the　middle…aged　woman　in　the　religious　habit　began　shaking　her　head。　〃How　are　you　doing；　Sister？〃　asked　Jason；　sitting　beside　his　prisoner。
　〃I　believe　I　was　struck　by　an　army　tank；〃　replied　the　woman；　blinking　and　opening　her　mouth　to　swallow　air。　〃At　least　a　tank。〃
　〃Which　I　suspect　you　know　more　about　than　a　welfare　wagon　from　the　Magdalen　Sisters　of　Charity。〃
　〃Quite　so；〃　agreed　the　woman。
　〃Don't　bother　to　look　for　your　gun；〃　said　Bourne。　〃I　removed　it　from　the　very　expensive　belt　under　your　habit。〃
　〃I'm　glad　you　recognized　the　value。　It's　part　of　what　we　must　talk　about。　。。。　Since　I　am　not　in　a　police　station；　I　assume　you've　granted　me　my　request　to　talk。〃
　〃Only　if　what　you　say　suits　my　purpose；　I　assume　you　understand　that。〃
　〃But　it　must；　you　see。　Suit　your　purpose；　as　you　say。　I've　failed。　I've　been　taken。　I'm　not　where　I　should　be；　and　whatever　the　time　is；　the　light　tells　me　I'm　too　late　for　excuses。　Also；　my　bicycle　has　either　disappeared　or　is　still　chained　to　the　lamppost。〃
　〃I　didn't　take　it。〃
　〃Then　I'm　a　dead　woman。　And　if　it's　gone　I'm　just　as　dead；　don't　you　see？〃
　〃Because　you've　disappeared？　Not　where　you're　supposed　to　be？〃
　〃Of　course。〃
　〃You're　Lavier！〃
　〃That's　true。　I'm　Lavier。　But　I'm　not　the　woman　you　knew。　You　knew　my　sister　Jacqueline…I　am　Dominique　Lavier。　We　were　close　in　age　and　since　we　were　children　strongly　resembled　each　other。　But　you　are　not　wrong　about　Neuilly…sur…Seine　or　what　you　saw　there。　My　sister　was　killed　because　she　broke　a　cardinal　rule；　mitted　a　mortal　sin；　if　you　like。　She　panicked　and　led　you　to　Carlos's　woman；　his　most　cherished　and　useful　secret。〃
　〃Me？　。。。　You　know　who　I　am？〃
　〃All　Paris…the　Jackal's　Paris…knows　who　you　are；　Monsieur　Bourne。　Not　by　sight；　I　grant　you；　but　they　k