The Bourne Deception - By Robert Ludlum & Eric van Lustbader Page 0,82

at her, and then, as Moira took a step toward her, ?Get the fuck away!?

In the next instant the Buick went up like a Roman candle, the shock wave slamming Moira and Bamber to the blacktop, showering them with smoldering patches of plastic and spirals of hot metal that stung like bees flushed from their hive.

17

AHYMN of deep-throated cathedral bells woke Bourne. Sunlight filtered through the jalousied bedroom window, fingers of pale gold striping the polished floorboards.

?Good morning, Adam. The police are after you.?

Tracy had come into the doorway, stood leaning against one side of the frame. The robust scent of fresh-brewed coffee entered with her and swirled enticingly about him like a flamenco dancer.

?I heard it on the TV earlier.? She had her arms crossed over her breasts. Her hair was still wet from the shower, slicked off her face, tied with a black velvet ribbon into a ponytail. Her face was bright, freshly scrubbed. She wore umber slacks, a cream man-tailored shirt, and shoes without heels. She looked ready for Don Fernando Hererra or whatever else the day might hold. ?Not to worry, though, they don?t have your name, and the single witness, a guard at the Maestranza, didn?t?or couldn?t?give an accurate description of you.?

?He saw me in very low light.? Bourne sat up and moved across the bed. ?Sometimes in no light at all.?

?All the better for you.?

Was the smile she gave him sardonic? In his present state he couldn?t tell.

?I got breakfast, and we have an appointment to see Don Fernando Hererra at three this afternoon.?

His head still throbbed and his mouth was as dry as a desert, distinguished only by an acrid taste that was faintly nauseating.

?What time is it?? he asked.

?Just after nine.?

The arm Scarface had tried to break felt better when he flexed it and the flesh wound down his back scarcely burned at all, but the pain in his chest made him wince as he wrapped the top sheet around his waist and rose out of bed.

?Perfect,? Tracy said. ?A Roman senator.?

?Let?s hope by this afternoon I look more Castilian than Roman,? he said as he padded toward the bathroom, ?because it will be Professor Alonzo Pecunia Zu?iga who?ll be accompanying you to Don Hererra?s this afternoon.?

She gave him a curious look, then turned and went back into the living room. He closed the bathroom door behind him and ran the shower. Over the sink was a mirror surrounded by small incandescent lightbulbs: a woman?s bathroom, he thought, made for putting on makeup.

Returning to the bedroom after his shower, he found a thick Turkish terry-cloth robe, which he wrapped around himself. She had covered his chest wound with a waterproof plastic layer, which he hadn?t noticed until he stepped into the stream of hot water.

When he came into the living room, Tracy was pouring coffee into an enormous cup. The small kitchen was merely a niche at one end of the single open room, which was spacious but, like the bedroom, as sparsely and anonymously furnished as a hotel room. On the wooden trestle table was the typical Andalusian workingman?s breakfast: a mug of hot chocolate and a plate of churros, slender twists of fried dough, dipped in sugar crystals.

Bourne pulled up a chair and he and Tracy ate their breakfast, and she let him have all the churros, he was still hungry when he finished. He went to the refrigerator.

?There?s nothing much in there, I?m afraid,? she said. ?I haven?t been here in some time.?

Still, he found some bacon in the freezer. As he fried up the strips, she said, ?Write down your size and I?ll get you some fresh clothes.?

He nodded. ?While you?re at it, I need you to run an errand for me.? Finding a pencil and scratch pad on the kitchen counter, he tore off a sheet and wrote out a list of items, along with his clothes size.

When he handed the slip of paper to her, Tracy glanced over it and said, ?Professor Zu?iga, I presume??

He nodded, tending the browning strips. ?I gave you the addresses of the theatrical stores I found yesterday. We were on our way there when Scarface picked up our scent.?

She got up, grabbed her handbag, and went to the door. ?This should take me about an hour,? she said. ?In the meantime, enjoy the rest of your breakfast.?

After she left, Bourne took the skillet off the burner, laid the bacon on a sheet of paper towel. Then he returned to the scratch