The woman spun around, the key flying into the... 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 habitJason lurched, gripping her arm with his
left hand and tearing off the large white hat with his rightAt the sight of the exposed face in front
of him, he gasped
“My God,” he whispered“It’s you!”
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“I know you!” cried BourneYou
had one of those dress shops Honoré—Carlos’s drop in the Faubourg! I
found you in a confessional booth in Neuilly-sur-SeineI thought you were dead The woman’s
sharp, creased, middle-aged fade was contorted in frenzyShe 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
prada bags cheap deadYou
were part of the trap that ended at the Louvre, blew apart at the Louvre! By Christ, you’re
coming with meMen died in that trap—Frenchmen died—and I couldn’t stay around and tell them
how it happened or who was responsibleIn my country, you kill a cop, it doesn’t go off the
booksIt’s no different over here; and when it’s cops, they don’t stop lookingOh, 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’tShe left in a hurry, so I ran inside and described you to an old
louis cartier priest—if he was a
priest—and he told me you were in the second confessional from the leftI walked over and pulled
the curtain and there you wereI thought you’d just been killed and everything was
happening so fastCarlos had to be there! He was within my reach, my gun—or maybe I was
within hisI 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 playI passed the word—Lavier’s deadIt 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 pointlessInstead, 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
fake cartier watches 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 strangerYou’re about to have a fainting spellAt your age it’s a fairly
common occurrence, isn’t it?”
“Wait
“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 musclesShe collapsed; he caught
her in the fall and carried her out of the narrow street as an adoring supplicant might a religious
social workerThe 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
miu miu clutch French“Will
someone please find me a taxi so I can take her back to her convent in the ninth arrondissement?”
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“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
“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
comes
“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 placeI hope you win the next
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