1984年，向佐出生時，正是父母最忙的時候。
那時向華強開始參與新義安的幫派事務，從一個演員變成了香港第一幫派的話事人。
香港幫派龍蛇混雜，向華強不僅要讓自家兄弟服氣，還要跟其他幫派搶地盤。
陳嵐每天陪著向華強應酬，還要幫忙處理幫派的財務和帳目，留給孩子的時間並不多。
三年後向華強和弟弟向華勝一起成立了永盛電影公司，變身投資人，次子向佑也出生了。
父母變得更加忙碌，兄弟倆經常互相照顧，一起長大，成為兩個長得很像的小胖子。
然而兩兄弟的性格卻完全不同。
哥哥向佐性格乖巧，內向靦腆，在學校還會受欺負，而弟弟向佑卻性格暴躁，衝動好鬥。
兩兄弟小時候經常跟在父母身邊，對他們的工作也有所了解。
向佐從小耳濡目染對功夫非常感興趣，想成為電影明星，而向佑卻想成為幫派大佬。
孩子尚小，向華強夫婦忙於工作，並沒有對於兩個兒子的性格和追求加以幹涉，反而助長他們走上了兩個極端。
後來向佐出國留學，開始朝著自己的夢想努力，他每天不是在健身房就是在健身房的路上。
一年之後向佐瘦了一百多斤，成了體型標準的大帥哥。
向華強夫婦對於兒子的努力非常認可，為他請來李連杰當師傅，並把他送進眾星雲集的大電影，作為演員出道。
然而留在香港的向佑卻依然是個其貌不揚的胖子。
隨著年齡的增長，他更加學會了利用父親的名號作威作福。
當向佐活躍在閃光燈下，陪著父母出席各大頒獎典禮。
各種高級社交場合時，向佑卻靠自己的方式走進了大眾的視野。
向佑第一次登上報紙是因為在香港街頭鬥毆。
他帶著自己的一幫小兄弟，與另一個個小團夥發生衝突，幸好警察及時出現才避免了事態擴大。
向佑並未受到起訴，但由於向華強的知名度，這則新聞依舊不斷被放大。
外界第一次知道了向家另一個兒子。
這件事後，向華強夫婦加強了對向佑的管教，不允許他拉幫結派，接觸幫派勢力。
雖然向華強出身新義安，但這也是他後半生一直努力擺脫的身份。
他當然不允許兒子與幫派扯上關係。
然而嚴格看管，讓向佑遠離幫派尚且可以，但向佑的性格已經很難改變了。
向華強夫婦和所有的父母一樣。
看著勤奮努力的長子，再看看到處尋釁滋事的次子，難免會恨鐵不成鋼。
2012年向佑厭煩了父母的嘮叨，謊稱和朋友一起做生意外出考察，離開了香港到了廣東東莞。
向佑來到東莞是因為聽聞了這裡的特色服務。
他入住了當地知名的太子酒店，準備花天酒地好好釋放一下。
太子酒店的『特色節目』正合向佑的胃口，他讓服務員把「小姐姐」們帶到他的房間。
也許是期待過高，也許是向佑心情不好，看到一排穿著清涼的「小姐姐」，竟然一個都不滿意。
畢竟從小跟在父母身邊，見過的女星不計其數，換了幾波之後，向佑總算勉強留下了一個人。
然而服務員剛走沒多久，向佑和「小姐姐」就吵了起來。
向佑不滿意她的服務，不僅大發雷霆還又打又砸，酒店房間一片狼藉，「小姐姐」也挨了打。
發洩一通的向佑還沒消氣，拎起包就往外走，並沒有付錢的意思。
酒店保安在門口將向佑攔下，並要求他付款並賠償。
向佑更加火大，又是一頓發脾氣，抄起椅子險些要砸壞前臺。
太子酒店能靠灰色行業立足，自然保安也不是吃素的。
他們很快就控制住了向佑，把他摁在地上動彈不得。
向佑一邊掙扎一邊瘋狂叫囂，我爸是向華強，是新義安的老大，把你們老闆找來。
保安一聽，對方來頭不小，層層上報最終撥通了董事長梁耀輝的電話。
梁耀輝在東莞可是響噹噹的人物。
不僅是太子酒店的董事長，還是中源石油集團的董事長，是黑白兩道通吃的人物。
俗話說強龍不壓地頭蛇，更何況梁耀輝是廣東的強龍。
他根本沒把向華強放在眼裡，向佑敢砸他的酒店真的是自討苦吃。
但梁耀輝還是給了向佑一個機會，讓他給向華強打電話。
畢竟同在一個江湖，說不定哪天還會打交道。
向華強聽到消息後氣不打一處來，想讓向佑乾脆自生自滅，不認這個兒子。
但對方號稱要卸掉向佑一條腿，向太百般勸說下，向華強才到了東莞去救兒子。
廣東臨近香港，新義安在這裡也有一些分支。
向華強找來當地的話事人，想辦法跟梁耀華攀上關係。
東莞的幫派大佬大多也都互相認識，同在一個地盤吃飯多少跟梁耀輝有些關係。
向華強這才有底氣去找梁耀輝救人。
雖說以前新義安也是刀口舔血得拼命，但在內地並沒有多大的影響力。
即便是向華強身後上萬小弟，但自家兒子犯錯在先，又落到別人的地盤上，也不得不認慫。
幾經周旋，加上中間人的說情，向華強重金賠付了所有損失後，才帶走了向佑。
回到香港後，向家加強了對向佑的看管。
不讓他接觸不三不四的朋友，不經過父母同意不能離開香港。
然而這件事並沒有讓向佑長教訓，他反而更加叛逆，屢屢與父母發生爭吵，還曾因為父母不滿意自己的女友而離家出走。
向佑也成了向家那本難念的經，只能儘量不要他曝光在公眾面前，但很快向佑又出事了。
2015年向佐和女友在香港坐計程車時，因為行車路線和司機張文偉發生衝突。
向佑一邊大罵司機，一邊打電話叫朋友趕來教訓這個司機。
張文偉趕緊停車不敢載向佑。
沒想到向佑下車後對他大打出手，並叫囂著自己是向華強的兒子。
向佑掐著張文偉的脖子兇狠地說，惹到我，你就死定了。
最終還是在女友的阻攔下，向佑才停止了暴力。
事後張文偉向法院提起訴訟，向佑被判定為刑事恐嚇、惡意傷害，並判處三年有期徒刑。
向佑的案件再次登上了頭版頭條，向家再次登上了風口浪尖。
向華強對於這件事遲遲沒有表態，有媒體稱他對向佑失望至極，不打算救兒子。
其實向華強不過是一邊標榜公正道義的形象，另一邊卻花重金找了知名律師為向佑辯護。
向佑不服判決提起上訴，律師稱向佑患有精神疾病，並呈上了精神科醫生的報告。
律師將向佑包裝成壓力過大導致性格偏激的弱勢。
稱向佑從小在父母嚴厲的管教下長大，犯錯時會受到體罰，給他的童年留下了陰影。
長大後經常被父母施壓，近期因為女友問題和父母發生矛盾，才會出現情緒失常無法自控。
向華強為了救兒子將自己包裝成了狼爸，但這樣的說法顯然站不住腳。
同一個家庭下向佐的性格積極樂觀，向佑卻偏激失常。
而且從向佑的案底來看，並非因為近期情緒失常才出現的違法行為，上訴之後向佑還是入獄了，從此向佑便消失在公眾視野裡。
向華強一直努力擺脫的黑老大的身份，再次被兒子搬到了臺前。
向氏夫婦便開始弱化向佑的存在，在公開的照片中都不見向佑的身影。
即便是向佐訂婚、結婚，聲勢浩大、賓客雲集，唯獨不見親弟弟向佑的身影。
前段時間向華強提交臺灣留居申請，準備和向太以及向佐一家住在臺灣，
祖孫三代共享天倫之樂，單單把向佑留在香港，就連侄女的滿月宴他也沒有現身。
其實向華強夫婦這樣做，一方面是愛惜羽毛，另一方面則是保護兒子。
畢竟在媒體的鏡頭下，一絲一毫都會放大。
尤其是向太經常口無遮攔，已經在網絡上引發過多次爭議，曬日常生活也被說成炫富。
公眾人物的言論也常常被曲解，將向佑隱藏起來也是讓他免受不必要的打擾。
畢竟天下哪有不愛孩子的父母呢？
如今向佐越來越爭氣，也算是向華強夫婦最大的安慰。
可能這兩兄弟終究無法複製父輩的輝煌，但作為父母可能只希望孩子平安幸福。
文|Nancy
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impelled by curiosity to find out the cause of his stillness, she
looked up at him at length, and saw his gaze fixed on the two who
were near the piano. Osborne was saying something eagerly to
Cynthia, whose grave eyes were upturned to him with soft
intentness of expression, and her pretty mouth half-open, with a
sort of impatience for him to cease speaking, that she might reply.
『They are talking about France,』 said Roger, in answer to
Molly’s unspoken question. 『Osborne knows it well, and Miss
Kirkpatrick has been at school there, you know. It sounds very
interesting; shall we go nearer and hear what they are saying?』
It was all very well to ask this civilly, but Molly thought it would
have been better to wait for her answer. Instead of waiting,
however, Roger went to the piano, and, leaning on it, appeared to
join in the light merry talk, while he feasted his eyes as much as he
dared by looking at Cynthia. Molly suddenly felt as if she could
scarcely keep from crying—a minute ago he had been so near to
Elizabeth Gaskell
Light, as well as other pubiilc 1;
along both coasts, oil loomed as the largest question mark, the biggest
potential worry of them all.
229
. Only that morning, in the Chronicle-West, a syndicated business
columnist had summed up the situation:
The danger about oil has been creeping up, like a tiger in the grass,
while we haven't noticed or maybe didn't want to. It began with the decline
of the U.S. dollar several years ago -our once respected "greenback," but
no longer strong, no longer "good as gold" because the dollar's gold backing
was canceled out during the Nixon presidency. Then, while the dollar
plunged because of ineptitude and politics in Washington, the oil
exporting nations of the Middle East, North and West Africa, Indonesia
and Venezuela raised their dollar prices in an attempt to stay even. That
didn't work. The dollar continues to sink like the setting sun, worth less
and less in terms of real value because the U.S. has paid (and goes on
paying) far more for imported oil than it earns from exports. And, as more
dollars departed for Saudi Arabia, Iran and elsewhere, more were printed
by the U. S. Treasury-depleting the dollar's value even further. After
that we witnessed some interim experimentspayment for oil through a
"basket of currencies" was one. (That's a highfalutin name for a mixture
including deutschemarks, guilders, French and Swiss francs, pounds
sterling, yen and dollars.) But that, too, proved ineffective because the
ailing dollar and pound tipped the basket downward. Finally, the oil
nations demanded payment in the only money which, in this world's long
history, has never failed to keep its value-gold. The United States refused.
It still does. (Of course you can see the Treasury's viewpoint. The U.S.
doesn't have that much gold left, having squandered enormous amounts in
futile attempts to "demonetize" gold. In fact, there's only sufficient
in Fort Knox and the Fed Reserve banks to pay one year's oil bill with
a bit left over.) Instead the U. S. Treasury, which for more than a decade
has relied on printing-press money-backed by nothing-to pay its way, has
offered to run the presses faster and produce more paper dollars. But this
time the oil nations have been adamant. They have said, in effect, "If
we want paper money we can print our own -without giving away our oil to
get it." And, like the mythical Chinese laundryman who insisted, "No tickee,
no washee," they now threaten: "No gold, no oil."
So, it seems, an impasse is imminent. True, the oil has not stopped
flowing-yet! Equally true: It could be a year or more before it does.
230
. Meanwhile, discussions between governments are continuing, so a
compromise is possible. We'll wait and see.
The general uncertainty about oil was an ominous, overhanging cloud for
GSP Page 156
& L because nearly half of the company's generating capacity was dependent
on oil fuel, the bulk of it imported. Natural gas, which used to be available
to generate electricity, was al-ready in short supply. Thus, the prospect
of an oil, gas and water shortage simultaneously was something which Eric
Humphrey, Nim, and other executives preferred not to think about-and
shuddered when they did.
"Is there any chance, do you think," Eric Humphrey asked Paul Sherman
Yale, "of the Governor's changing his mind and coming out with an
endorsement of our Tunipah plans? After all, with an ongoing oil and gas
crisis, what stronger argument is there for a coal-burning plant?" Mr.
justice Yale had joined Humphrey and Nim shortly after Nim's report on
tbeft of service. The previous day, GSP & L's new and distinguisbed
spokesman had been in Sacramento at the state capitol. "Tbe Governor
acknowledges that argument," Yale said, "and he's vacillating. I saw him
yesterday and urged him to make a pro-Tunipah statement. I'd say the chances
are sixty-forty that he will." "I'm pleased to bear it." Humphrey
noticeably brightened and Nim thought: Once more the chairman's wisdom
in hiring Paul Yale was being demonstrated. Yale seemed able to walk into
the Governor's office without advance notice whenever he chose and the
same was true of his access to senior legislators. "I can tell you,
gentlemen," Yale said, "that there's plenty of worrying in Sacramento
about oil. 'nose I talked with yesterday, including the Governor, see
gasoline rationing as inevitable soon, whether the present crisis is
settled or not." "Personally," Humphrey said, "I'd consider that a good
thing. The way North Americans have used cars, especially big cars,
squandering gasoline as if there were no tomorrow, has been gross and
disgusting. The Europeans-rightly so-believe we're irresponsible." Nim
resisted an impulse to remind the chairman about his own big car. Instead,
be told Yale, "I hope Sacramento realizes that producing electricity is
a much more economical use of oil than in an automobile." Paul Sherman
Yale smiled. "I assure you I lose no opportunitypublic and private-to make
that clear." Nim remembered that Yale had made that I>oint publicly a week
ago. It was on a TV program, Meet the State Press, where, considering
231
. the short time since his appointment, the former Associate justice showed
himself adroitly knowledgeable about GSP&L affairs. Watching the show at
home, Nim had again felt regret at not being the utility's policy spokesman
any more. But honesty made him admit that Yale did the job superbly.
"I assume," Paul Yale said, "that Golden State Power still includes
nuclear generating plants on its future shopping list." "Officially, yes,"
Nim answered. "We have two nuclear plants under construction-got them
licensed just before nuclear licensing became a practical impossibility.
Also, we've applied for two more nuclear con-struction permits, but the
application is getting nowbere. So unofficially ."He shrugged. "The fact
is," Eric Humphrey added, "the likelihood of more nuclear plants being
approved for California becomes increasingly remote. The only sure thing
is that the nuclear debate-pro and con-will go on and on with nothing
resolved. We can't wait." Eric Humphrey's mind had swung back to their
earlier discussion about oil. "I sometimes think if I were an Arab I'd
refuse paper dollars for my oil and demand gold, or at least a gold-backed
currency. I wonder if the United States will give in and use some of our
gold, even though it would not last long." "Do we even have as much gold
as we're supposed to?" Nim asked. "There seems some doubt about it."
Page 157
Humphrey looked surprised. Mr. fustice Yale didn't; a soft smile played
around his lips. "I subscribe to a financial newsletter-The International
Harry Schultz Letter," Nim said. "There are often things in there which
prove to be true but newspapers don't seem to want to publish. Schultz
has been writing about two men-a Washington lawyer, Dr. Peter Beter, who
used to be counsel for the United States Export-Import Bank, and Edward
Durell, an American industrialist. Both are shouting 'fraud' about Fort
Knox gold, claiming there may be a lot less there that the world believes."
Paul Sherman Yale nodded. "Quite a few in Washington have heard of both
men, but not many will admit it. Incidentally, I subscribe to Schultz's
letter too." "What Beter and Durell argue," Nim explained to Humphrey,
"is that Fort Knox gold hasn't been audited properly since 1953. They also
claim that most of the remaining gold is impure-from melted-down coins
containing silver, copper and antimony, which President Roosevelt called
in when gold ownership for Americans was made illegal. That alone would
mark the gold holdings down by twenty percent, possibly more."
"I've not beard that before," Humphrey said. "It's interesting."
Nim went on, "There's more. It's believed that in the 196o dollar cri
232
. sis a whole lot of U.S. gold was used to support the dollar, with the
intention it would be replaced. It never was." "In that case," Humphrey
asked, "why keep it a secret?"
Mr Gibson made his mouth up into a droll whistle when he came
home at night, and found himself in a Towers』 atmosphere. Molly
saw the shade of annoyance through the drollery; she was
beginning to see it oftener than she liked, not that she reasoned
upon it, or that she consciously traced the annoyance to its source;
but she could not help feeling uneasy in herself when she knew
her father was in the least put out.
Of course a fly was ordered for Mrs Gibson. In the early
afternoon she came home. If she had been disappointed in her
interview with the countess she never told her woe, nor revealed
the fact that when she first arrived at the Towers she had to wait
for an hour in Lady Cumnor’s morning-room, uncheered by any
companionship save that of her old friend Mrs Bradley, till
suddenly, Lady Harriet coming in, she exclaimed, 『Why, Clare! you
dear woman! are you here all alone? Does mamma know?』 And,
after a little more affectionate conversation, she rushed to find her
ladyship, perfectly aware of the fact, but too deep in giving the
duchess the benefit of her wisdom and experience in trousseaux to
be at all aware of the length of time Mrs Gibson had been passing
in patient solitude. At lunch Mrs Gibson was secretly hurt by my
lord’s supposing it to be her dinner, and calling out his urgent
hospitality from the very bottom of the table, giving as a reason for
it, that she must remember it was her dinner. In vain she piped
out in her soft, high voice, 『Oh, my lord! I never cat meat in the
middle of the day; I can hardly eat anything at lunch.』 Her voice
was lost, and the duchess might go away with the idea that the
Hollingford doctor’s wife dined early; that is to say, if her grace
ever condescended to have any idea on the subject at all; which
presupposes that she was cognizant of the facts of there being a
Elizabeth Gaskell
doctor at Hollingford, and that he had a wife, and that his wife was
the pretty, faded, elegant-looking woman sending away her plate
of untasted food—food that she longed to eat, for she was really
desperately hungry after her drive and her solitude.
And then, after lunch, there did come a tête-à-tête with Lady
Cumnor, which was conducted after this wise::
『Well, Clare! I am really glad to see you. I once thought I should
never get back to the Towers, but here I am! There was such a
clever man at Bath—a Doctor Snape—he cured me at last—quite
set me up. I really think if ever I am ill again I shall send for him: it
is such a thing to find a really clever medical man. Oh, by the way,
I always forget you』ve married Mr Gibson—of course he is very
clever, and all that. (The carriage to the door in ten minutes,
Brown, and desire Bradley to bring my things down.) What was I
asking you? Oh! how do you get on with the step-daughter. She
seemed to me to be a young lady with a pretty stubborn will of her
own. I put a letter for the post down somewhere, and I cannot
think where; do help me to look for it, there’s a good woman. Just
run to my room, and see if Brown can find it, for it is of great
consequence.』
Off went Mrs Gibson rather unwillingly; for there were several
things she had wanted to speak about, and she had not heard half
of what she had expected to learn of the family gossip. But all
chance was gone; for when she came back from her fruitless
errand, Lady Cumnor and the duchess were in full talk, Lady
Cumnor with the missing letter in her hand, which she was using
something like a baton to enforce her words.
『Every iota from Paris! Every i-o-ta!』
Lady Cumnor was too much of a lady not to apologise for
Elizabeth Gaskell
useless trouble, but they were nearly the last words she spoke to
Mrs Gibson, for she had to go out and drive with the duchess; and
the brougham to take 『Clare』 (as she persisted in calling Mrs
Gibson) back to Hollingford, followed the carriage to the door.
Lady Harriet came away from her entourage of young men and
young ladies, all prepared for some walking expedition, to wish
Mrs Gibson good-by.
『We shall see you at the ball,』 she said. 『You』ll be there with your
two girls, of course, and I must have a little talk with you there;
with all these visitors in the house, it has been impossible to see
anything of you to-day, you know.』
Such were the facts, but rose-colour was the medium through
which they were seen by Mrs Gibson’s household listeners on her
return.
『There are many visitors staying at the Towers—oh, yes! a great
many: the duchess and Lady Alice, and Mr and Mrs Grey, and
Lord Albert Monson and his sister, and my old friend Captain
James of the Blues—many more, in fact. But of course I preferred
going to Lady Cumnor’s own room, where I could see her and
Lady Harriet quietly, and where we were not disturbed by the
bustle downstairs. Of course we were obliged to go down to lunch,
and then I saw my old friends, and renewed pleasant
acquaintances. But I really could hardly get any connected
conversation with any one. Lord Cumnor seemed so delighted to
see me there again: though there were six or seven between us, he
was always interrupting with some civil or kind speech especially
addressed to me. And after lunch Lady Cumnor asked me all sorts
of questions about my new life with as much interest as if I had
been her daughter. To be sure, when the duchess came in we had
Elizabeth Gaskell
her, and talking so pleasantly and confidentially; and now he
almost seemed as if he had forgotten her existence. She thought
that all this was wrong; and she exaggerated its wrongness to
herself; 『mean,』 and 『envious of Cynthia,』 and 『ill-natured,』 and
『selfish,』 were the terms she kept applying to herself; but it did no
good, she was just as naughty at the last as at the first.
Mrs Gibson broke into the state of things which Molly thought
was to endure for ever. Her work had been intricate up to this
time, and had required a great deal of counting; so she had had no
time to attend to her duties, one of which she always took to be to
show herself to the world as an impartial stepmother. Cynthia had
played and sung, and now she must give Molly her turn of
exhibition. Cynthia’s singing and playing was light and graceful,
but anything but correct; but she herself was so charming, that it
was only fanatics for music who cared for false chords and omitted
notes. Molly, on the contrary, had an excellent ear, if she had ever
been well taught; and both from inclination and conscientious
perseverance of disposition, she would go over an incorrect
passage for twenty times. But she was very shy of playing in
company; and when forced to do it, she went through her
performance heavily, and hated her handiwork more than any
one.
『Now, you must play a little, Molly,』 said Mrs Gibson; 『play us
that beautiful piece of Kalkbrenner’s,』 my dear.』
Molly looked up at her stepmother with beseeching eyes, but it
only brought out another form of request, still more like a
command.
『Go at once, my dear. You may not play it quite rightly; and I
know you are very nervous; but you’re quite amongst friends.』
Elizabeth Gaskell
So there was a disturbance made in the little group at the
piano, and Molly sate down to her martyrdom.
『Please, go away!』 said she to Osborne, who was standing
behind her ready to turn over. 『I can quite well do it for myself.
And oh! if you would but talk!』
Osborne remained where he was in spite of her appeal, and
gave her what little approval she got; for Mrs Gibson, exhausted
by her previous labour of counting her stitches, fell asleep in her
comfortable sofa-corner near the fire; and Roger, who began at
first to talk a little in compliance with Molly’s request, found his
tête-à-tête with Cynthia so agreeable, that Molly lost her place
several times in trying to catch a sudden glimpse of Cynthia sitting
at her work, and Roger by her, intent on catching her low replies
to what he was saying.
『There, now I』ve done!』 said Molly, standing up quickly as soon
as she had finished the eighteen dreary pages; 『and I think I will
never sit down to play again!』
Osborne laughed at her vehemence. Cynthia began to take
some part in what was being said, and thus made the conversation
general. Mrs Gibson wakened up gracefully, as was her way of
doing all things, and slid into the subjects they were talking about
so easily, that she almost succeeded in making them believe she
had never been asleep at all.
Elizabeth Gaskell
CHAPTER XXV
HOLLINGFORD IN A BUSTLE
A
ll Hollingford felt as if there was a great deal to be done
before Easter this year. There was Easter proper, which
always required new clothing of some kind, for fear of
certain consequences from little birds, who were supposed to
resent the impiety of those who do not wear some new article of
dress on Easter-day.』 And most ladies considered it wiser that the
little birds should see the new article for themselves, and not have
to take it upon trust, as they would have to do if it were merely a
pocket-handkerchief, or a petticoat, or any article of underclothing. So piety demanded a new bonnet, or a new gown; and
was barely satisfied with an Easter pair of gloves. Miss Rose was
generally very busy just before Easter in Hollingford. Then this
year there was the charity ball. Ashcombe, Hollingford, and
Coreham were three neighbouring towns, of about the same
number of population, lying at the three equidistant corners of a
triangle. In imitation of greater cities with their festivals, these
three towns had agreed to have an annual ball for the benefit of
the county hospital to be held in turn at each place; and
Hollingford was to be the place this year.
It was a fine time for hospitality, and every house of any
pretension was as full as it could hold, and flys were engaged long
months before.
If Mrs Gibson could have asked Osborne, or in default, Roger
Hamley to go to the ball with them and to sleep at their house,—or
Elizabeth Gaskell
「Truthfully. I was the vice-president of the Valois, and was following instructions from the Gemeinschaft in
Zurich. What else was there to say?」
「Go on.」
「I said I had been in communication with a man claiming to be Jason Bourne. She asked me how recently, to
which I replied a few minutes. She was then most anxious to know the substance of our conversation. It was at
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this point that I voiced my own concerns. The fiche specifically stated that a call should be made to New York,
not Paris. Naturally, she said it was not my concern, and that the change was authorized by signature, and did I
care for Zurich to be informed that an officer of the Valois refused to follow the Gemeinschaft instructions?」
「Hold it,」 interrupted Jason. 「Who was she?」
「I have no idea.」
「You mean you were talking all this time and she didn’t tell you? You didn’t ask?」
「That is the nature of the fiche. If a name is proffered, well and good. If it is not, one does not inquire.」
「You didn’t hesitate to ask about the telephone number.」
「Merely a device; I wanted information. You transferred four and a half million francs, a sizable amount, and
were therefore a powerful client with, perhaps, more powerful strings attached to him. ... One balks, then agrees,
then balks again only to agree again; that is the way one learns things. Especially if the party one is talking with
displays anxiety. I can assure you, she did.」
「What did you learn?」
「That you should be considered a dangerous man.」
「In what way?」
「The definition was left open. But the fact that the term was used was enough for me to ask why the Sûreté
was not involved. Her reply was extremely interesting. 『He is beyond the Sûreté, beyond Interpol』 she said.」
「What did that tell you?」
「That it was a highly complicated matter for any number of possibilities, all best left private. Since our talk
began, however, it now tells me something else.」
「What’s that?」
「That you really should pay me well, for I must be extremely cautious. Those who look for you, are also,
perhaps, beyond the Sûreté, beyond Interpol.」
「We』ll get to that. You told this woman I was on my way to your office?」
「Within the quarter hour. She asked me to remain on the telephone for a few moments, that she would be right
back. Obviously she made another call. She returned with her final instructions. You were to be detained in my
office until a man came to my secretary inquiring about a matter from Zurich. And when you left you were to be
identified by a nod or a gesture; there could be no error. The man came, of course, and, of course, you never
arrived, so he waited by the tellers』 cages with an associate. When you phoned and said you were on your way to
London, I left my office to find the man. My secretary pointed him out and I told him. The rest you know.」
「Didn’t it strike you as odd that I had to be identified?」
「Not so odd as intemperate. A fiche is one thing—telephone calls, faceless communications—but to be
involved directly, in the open, as it were, is something else again. I said as much to the woman.」
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