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When he had asked Santos's messengers…after giving them several hundred francs for their inconvenience…the reason for these late…night precautions； the less inhibited man had replied； 〃Santos never leaves Le Coeur du Soldat。〃
〃He left last evening。〃
〃For minutes only；〃 rejoined the more voluble messenger。
〃I understand。〃 Bourne nodded； but he had not understood； he could only speculate。 Was Santos in some way the Jackal's prisoner； confined to the sleazy café night and day？ It was a fascinating query in light of the manager's size and sheer raw power； both bined with a far…above…average intellect。
It was 12：37 when Jason； in blue jeans； cap and a dark； tattered V…necked sweater； reached the gates of the old factory。 He took out a pack of Gauloise cigarettes and leaned against the wall； lighting one with a match； holding the flame longer than necessary before he blew it out。 His thoughts returned to the enigmatic Santos； the premier conduit in Carlos's army； the most trusted satellite in the Jackal's orbit； a man whose French might have been formed at the Sorbonne； yet Santos was a Latin American。 A Venezuelan； if Bourne's instincts had merit。 Fascinating。 And Santos wanted to see him 'with peace in his heart。' Bravo； amigo； thought Jason。 Santos had reached a terrified ambassador in London with a question so loaded it made a political party's private poll look like the essence of nonpartisan neutrality。 Atkinson had no choice but to state emphatically； if not in panic； that whatever instructions Snake Lady issued were to be carried out。 The power of Snake Lady was the ambassador's only protection； his ultimate refuge。
So Santos could bend； that decision was rooted in intellect； not loyalty； not obligation。 The conduit wanted to crawl out of his sewer； and with three million francs in the offing； bined with a multitude of faraway places across the globe to choose from； the conduit's mind told him to listen； to consider。 There were alternatives in life if opportunities were presented。 One had been presented to Santos； vassal to Carlos； whose fealty to his lord had perhaps run its suffocating course。 It was this instinctive projection that made Bourne include in his plea…calmly but firmly； the emphasis in understatement…such phrases as You could travel； disappear 。。。 a wealthy man； free of care and unpleasant drudgery。 The key words were 〃free〃 and 〃disappear；〃 and Santos's eyes had responded。 He was ready to take the three…million…franc bait； and Bourne was perfectly happy to let him break the line and swim with it。
Jason looked at his watch； fifteen minutes had passed。 No doubt Santos's minions were checking the streets； a final inspection before the high priest of conduits appeared。 Bourne thought briefly of Marie； of the sensations he felt at the Trocadéro； remembering old Fontaine's words when the two of them watched the paths of Tranquility Inn from the high storage room； waiting for Carlos。 He's near； I feel it。 Like the approach of distant thunder。 In a different…far different…way Jason had like feelings at the Trocadéro。 Enough！ Santos！ The Jackal！
His watch read one o'clock； and the two messengers from the Pont…Royal walked out of the alley and across the street to the gates of the old refinery。
〃Santos will see you now；〃 said the voluble one。
〃I don't see him。〃
〃You are to e with us。 He does not leave Le Coeur du Soldat。〃
〃Why do I find that not to my liking？〃
〃There's no reason for such feelings。 He has peace in his heart。〃
〃What about his knife？〃
〃He has no knife； no weapon。 He never carries either。〃
〃That's nice to hear。 Let's go。〃
〃He has no need for such weapons；〃 added the messenger； disquietingly。
He was escorted down the alley； past the neon…lit entrance； to a barely negotiable break in the buildings。 One by one； Jason between the two； men； they made their way to the rear of the café； where there was just about the last thing Bourne expected to see in this run…down section of the city。 It was 。。。 well； an English garden。 A plot of ground perhaps thirty feet in length； twenty in depth； and trellises supporting a variety of flowering vines； a barrage of color in the French moonlight。
〃That's quite a sight；〃 mented Jason。 〃It didn't e about through neglect。〃
〃Ah； it is a passion with Santos！ No one understands it； but no one touches a single flower； either。〃
Fascinating。
Bourne was led to a small outside elevator whose steel frame was attached to the stone wall of the building。 There was no other access in sight。 The conveyance barely held the three of them； and once the iron gate was closed； the silent messenger pressed a button in the darkness and spoke。 〃We are here； Santos。 Camellia。 Bring us up。〃
〃Camellia？〃 asked Jason。
〃He knows everything is all right。 If not； my friend might have said 'lily' or 'rose。' 〃
〃What would happen then？〃
〃You don't want to think about it。 I don't care to think about it。〃
〃Naturally。 Of course。〃
The outside elevator stopped with a disturbing double jerk； and the quiet messenger opened a thick steel door that required his full weight to open。 Bourne was led into the familiar room with the tasteful； expensive furniture； the bookcases and the single floor lamp that illuminated Santos in his outsized armchair。 〃You may leave； my friends；〃 said the large man； addressing the messengers。 〃Pick up your money from the faggot； and for God's sake； tell him to give René and the American who calls himself Ralph fifty francs apiece and get them out of here。 They're pissing in the corners。 。。。 Say the money's from their friend from last night who forgot about them。〃
〃Oh； shit！〃 exploded Jason。
〃You did forget； didn't you？〃 Santos grinned。
〃I've had other things on my mind。〃
〃Yes； sir！ Yes； Santos！〃 The two messengers； instead of heading for the back of the room and the elevator； opened a door in the left wall and disappeared。 Bourne looked after them； bewildered。
〃There is a staircase leading to our kitchen； such as it is；〃 said Santos； answering Jason's unspoken question。 〃The door can be opened from this side； not from the steps below except by me。 。。。 Sit down； Monsieur Simon。 You are my guest。 How is your head？〃
〃The swelling's gone down； thank you。〃 Bourne sat on the large couch； sinking into the pillows； it was not an authoritative position； nor was it not meant to be。 〃I understand you have peace in your heart。〃
〃And a desire for three million francs in the avaricious section of that heart。〃
〃Then you were satisfied with your call to London？〃
〃No one could have programmed that man into reacting the way he did。 There is a Snake Lady and she instills extraordinary devotion and fear in high places…which means that female serpent is not without power。〃
〃That's what I tried to tell you。〃
〃Your word is accepted。 Now； let me recapitulate your request； your demand； as it were…〃
〃My restrictions；〃 interrupted Jason。
〃Very well； your restrictions；〃 agreed Santos。 〃You and you alone must reach the blackbird； correct？〃
〃It's an absolute。〃
〃Again； I must ask why？〃
〃Speaking frankly； you already know too much； more than my clients realize； but then none of them was about t