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anked her head towards him until her neck was stretched； her face against his。
'I won't do it again！' she cried； tears welling at her eyes。 'I swear to you I won't I'
He reached across and pulled the door shut； then looked at her closely； trying to understand something in himself。 Thirty minutes ago in another car he bad experienced a degree of nausea when he had pressed the barrel of the gun into her cheek； threatening to take her life if she disobeyed him。 There was no such revulsion now； with one overt action she had crossed over into another territory。 She had bee an enemy； a threat； he could kill her if he had to； kill her without emotion because it was the practical thing to do。
'Say something！' she whispered。 Her body went into a brief spasm； her breasts pressing against the dark silk of her dress； rising and falling with the agitated movement。 She gripped her own wrist in an attempt to control herself； she partially succeeded。 She spoke again； the whisper replaced by a monotone。 'I said I wouldn't do it again and I won't。'
'You'll try；' he replied quietly。 'There'll e a moment when you think you can make it； and you'll try。 Believe me when I tell you you can't； but if you try again I will have to kill you。 I don't want to do that； there's no reason for it； no reason at all。 Unless you bee a threat to me； and in running away before I let you go you do just that。 I can't allow it'
He had spoken the truth as he understood the truth。 The simplicity of the decision was as astonishing to him as the decision itself。 Killing was a practical matter； nothing else。
'You say you'll let me go；' she said。 'When？'
'When I'm safe；' he answered。 'When it doesn't make any difference what you say or do。〃
'When will that be？'
'An hour or so from now。 When we're out of Zurich and I'm on my way to somewhere else。 You won't know where or how。'
'Why should I believe you？'
'I don't care whether you do or not。' He released her。 'Pull yourself together。 Dry your eyes and b your hair。 We're going inside。'
'What's in there？'
'I wish I knew；' he said； glancing through the rear window at the door of the Drei Alpenhauser。
'You said that before。'
He looked at her； at the wide brown eyes that were searching his。 Searching in fear； in bewilderment。 'I know。 Hurry up。'
There were thick beams running across the high Alpine ceiling； tables and chairs of heavy wood； deep booths and candlelight everywhere。 An accordion player moved through the crowd； muted strains of Bavarian Music ing from his instrument
He had seen the large room before； the beams and the candlelight printed somewhere in his mind； the sounds recorded also。 He had e here in another life。 They stood in the shallow foyer in front of the maitre d's hotel's station； he greeted them。
'Haben Sie einen Plats reserviert； mein Herr？
'If you mean have I a reservation； I'm afraid not But you were highly remended。 I hope you can fit us in。 A booth； if possible。'
'Certainly； sir。 It's the early sitting； we're not yet crowded。 This way； please。'
They were taken to a booth in the nearest corner； a flickering candle in the centre of the table。 Bourne's limp and the fact that he held on to the woman； dictated the closest available location。 Jason nodded to Marie St Jacques； she sat down； and he slid into the booth opposite her。
'Move against the wall；' he said； after the maitre had left 'Remember； the gun's in my pocket and all I have to do is raise my foot and you're trapped。'
'I said I wouldn't try。'
'I hope you don't Order a drink； there's no time to eat！
'I couldn't eat！ She gripped her wrist again； her hands visibly trembling。 'Why isn't there time？ What are you waiting for？'
'I don't know。'
'Why do you keep saying that？ 〃I don't know。〃 〃I wish I knew。〃 Why did you e here？'
'Because I've been here before。'
'That's no answer！'
There's no reason for me to give you one。'
A waiter approached。 The St Jacques woman asked for wine； Bourne ordered Scotch； needing the stronger drink。 He looked round the restaurant； trying to concentrate 'on everything and nothing'。 A sponge。 But there was only nothing。 No images filled his mind； no thoughts intruded on his absence of thought。 Nothing。
And then he saw the face across the room。 It was a large face set in a large head； above an obese body pressed against the wall of an end booth； next to a closed door。 The fat man stayed in the shadows of his observation point as if they were his protection； the unlit section of the floor his sanctuary。 His eyes were riveted on Jason； equal parts fear and disbelief in his stare。 Bourne did not know the face； but the face knew him。 The man brought his ringers to his lips and wiped the corners of his mouth； then shifted his eyes； taking in each diner at every table。 Only then did he begin what was obviously a painful journey around the room towards their booth。
A man's ing over here；' he said over the flame of the candle。 'A fat man； and he's afraid。 Don't say anything。 No matter what he says； keep your mouth shut。 And don't look at him； raise your hand； rest your head oh your elbow casually。 Look at the wall； not him。'
The woman frowned； bringing her right hand to her face； her fingers trembled。 Her lips formed a question； but no words came。 Jason answered the unspoken。
'For your own good；' he said。 'There's no point in his being able to identify you。'
The fat man edged round the corner of the booth。 Bourne blew out the candle； throwing the table into relative darkness。 The man stared him down and spoke in a low； strained voice。
'Lieber Gott！ Why did you e here？ What have I done that you should do this to me？'
'I enjoy the food； you know that！
'Have you no feelings！ I have a family； a wife and children。 I did only as I was told。 I gave you the envelope； I did not look inside； I know nothing！！
'But you were paid； weren't you？' asked Jason instinctively。
'Yes； but I said nothing。 We never met； I never described you。 I spoke to no one！'
Then why are you afraid？ I'm just an ordinary patron about to order dinner。'
'I beg you。 Leave。'
'Now I'm angry。 You'd better tell me why。'
The fat man brought his hand to his face； his fingers again wiping the moisture that had formed around his mouth。 He angled his head； glancing at the door； then turned back to Bourne。 'Others may have spoken； others may know who you are。 I've had my share of trouble with the police； they would e directly to me。'
The St Jacques woman lost control； she looked at Jason； the words escaping。 'The police。。。 They were the police'
Bourne glared at her； then turned back to the nervous fat man。 'Are you saying the police would harm your wife and children？'
'Not in themselves … as you well know。 But their interest would lead others to me。 To my family。 How many are there that look for you； mein Herr？ And what are they that do？ You need no answer from me； they stop at nothing … the death of a wife or a child is nothing。 Please。 On my life； I've said nothing。 Leave。'
'You're exaggerating。' Jason raised his drink to his lips； a prelude to dismissal。
'In the name of Christ； don't do this！' The man leaned over； gripping the edge of the table。 'You wish proof of my silence； I give it to you。 Word was spread throughout the Verbrecherwelt。 Anyone with any information whatsoever should call a number set up by the Zurich police。 Everything would be kept in the strictest confidence； they would not lie in the Verbrecherwelt about that。 Rewards were ample； the police in several countries sending funds through Interpol。 Past misunderstandings might be seen in new judicial lights。' The conspirator stood up； wiping his mouth again； his large bulk hovering above the wood。 'A man like myself could profit from a kinder relationship with the police。 Yet I did nothing。 In spite of the guarantee of confidentiality； I did nothing at all！'
'Did anyone else？ Tell me the truth； I'll know if you're lying。'
'I know only Chernak。 He's the only one I've ever spoken to who admits having even seen you。 But you know that； the envelope was passed through him to me。 He'd never say anything。'
'Where's Chernak now？'
'Where he always is。 In his flat on the Swenstrasse。'
'I've never been there。 What's the number？'
'You've never been？。。。' The fat man paused； his lips pressed together； alarm in his eyes。 'Are you testing me？！
'Answer the question。'
'Number 37； You know it as well as I do。！
Then I'm testing you。 Who gave the envelope to Chernak？'
The man stood motionless； his dubious integrity challenged。！ I have no way of knowing。 Nor would I ever inquire。'
'You weren't even curious？'
'Of course not。 A goat does not willingly enter the wolfs cave。！
'Goats are sure…footed； they've got an accurate sense of smell。'
'And they are cautious； mein Herr。 Because the wolf is faster； infinitely more aggressive。 There would be only one chase。 The goat's last。'
'What was in the envelope？'
'I told you； I did not open it。'
'But you know what was in it！
'Money； I presume。'
'You presume！'
'Very well。 Money。 A great deal of money。 If there was any discrepancy； it had nothing to do with me。 Now please； I beg you。 Get out of here I'
'One