Robert Ludlum - The Bourne Supremacy

'Don't mention that name to anyone, Doctor,' said McAllister.

'I've quite forgotten it. I'm not sure I even know who he is. '

'What can I say? What are you doing?

'Everything humanly possible,' answered the major. 'We've divided Hong Kong and Kowloon up into sections. We're questioning every hotel, thoroughly examining their registrations. We've alerted the police and the marine patrols; all personnel have copies of her description and have been instructed that finding her is the territory's priority concern-'

'My God, what did you say! How did you explain?

'I was able to help here,' said the doctor. 'In the light of my stupidity it was the least I could do. I issued a medical alert. By doing so, we were able to enlist the help of paramedic teams who've been sent out from all the hospitals, staying in radio contact for other emergencies, of course. They're scouring the streets. '

'What kind of medical alert?' asked McAllister sharply.

'Minimum information, but the sort that creates a stir. The woman was known to have visited an unnamed island in the Luzon Strait that is off limits to international travellers for reasons of a rampant disease transmitted by unclean eating utensils. '

'By categorizing it as such,' interrupted Lin, 'our good doctor prevented any hesitation on the part of the teams to approach her and take her into custody. Not that there would be, but every basket has its less than perfect fruit and we cannot afford any. I honestly believe we'll find her, Edward. We all know she stands out in a crowd. Tall, attractive, that hair of hers – and over a thousand people looking for her. '

'I hope to God you're right. But I worry. She received her first training from a chameleon. '

'I beg your pardon?

'It's nothing, Doctor,' said the major. 'A technical term in our business. '

'Oh?

'I've got to have the entire file, all of it!'

'What, Edward?

They were hunted together in Europe. Now they're apart, but still hunted. What did they do then? What will they do now?

'A thread? A pattern?

'It's always there,' said McAllister, rubbing his right temple. 'Excuse me, gentlemen, I must ask you to leave. I have a dreadful call to make. '

Marie bartered clothes and paid a few dollars for others. The result was acceptable: With her hair pulled back under a floppy wide-brimmed sunhat, she was a plain-looking woman in a pleated skirt and a nondescript grey blouse that concealed any outline of a figure. The flat sandals lowered her height and the ersatz Gucci purse marked her as a gullible tourist in Hong Kong, exactly what she was not. She called the Canadian consulate and was told how to get there by bus. The offices were in the Asian House, 14th Floor, Hong Kong. She took the bus from the Chinese University through Kowloon and the tunnel over to the island; she watched the streets carefully and got off at her stop. She rode up in the elevator, satisfied that none of the men riding with her gave her a second glance; that was not the usual reaction. She had learned in Paris – taught by a chameleon – how to use the simple things to change herself. The lessons were coming back to her.

'I realize this will sound ridiculous,' she said in a casual, humorously bewildered voice to the receptionist, 'but a second cousin of mine on my mother's side is posted here and I promised to look him up. '

That doesn't sound ridiculous to me. '

'It will when I tell you I've forgotten his name. ' Both women laughed. 'Of course, we've never met and he'd probably like to keep it that way, but then I'd have to answer to the family back home. '

'Do you know what section he's in?

'Something to do with economics, I believe. '

'That would be the Division of Trade most likely. ' The receptionist opened a drawer and pulled out a narrow white booklet with the Canadian flag embossed on the cover. 'Here's our directory. Why don't you sit down and look through it?

Thanks very much,' said Marie, going to a leather armchair and sitting down. 'I have this terrible feeling of inadequacy,' she added, opening the directory. 'I mean I should know his name. I'm sure you know the name of your second cousin on your mother's side of the family. '

'Honey, I haven't the vaguest. ' The receptionist's phone rang; she answered it.

Turning the pages, Marie read quickly, scanning down the columns looking for a name that would evoke a face. She found three but the images were fuzzy, the features not clear. Then on the twelfth page, a face and a voice leaped up at her as she read the name. Catherine Staples.

'Cool' Catherine, 'Ice-cold' Catherine, 'Stick' Staples. The nicknames were unfair and did not give an accurate picture or appraisal of the woman. Marie had got to know Catherine Staples during her days with the Treasury Board in Ottawa when she and others in her section briefed the diplomatic corps prior to their overseas assignments. Staples had come through twice, once for a refresher course on the European Common Market... the second, of course, for Hong Kong! It was thirteen or fourteen months ago, and although their friendship could not be called deep – four or five lunches, a dinner that Catherine had prepared and one reciprocated by Marie – she had learned quite a bit about the woman who did her job better than most men.

To begin with, her rapid advancement at the Department of External Affairs had cost her an early marriage. She had forsworn the marital state for the rest of her life, she declared, as the demands of travel and the insane hours of her job were unacceptable to any man worth having. In her mid-fifties, Staples was a slender, energetic woman of medium height who dressed fashionably but simply. She was a no-nonsense professional with a sardonic wit that conveyed her dislike of cant, which she saw through swiftly, and self-serving excuses – which she would not tolerate. She could be kind, even gentle, with men and women unqualified for the work they were assigned through no fault of their own, but brutal with those who had issued such assignments, regardless of rank. If there was a phrase that summed up Senior Foreign Service Officer Catherine Staples, it was tough-but-fair... also, she was frequently very amusing in a self-deprecating way. Marie hoped she would be fair in Hong Kong.

There's nothing here that rings a bell,' said Marie, getting out of the chair and bringing the directory back to the receptionist . 'I feel so stupid. '

'Do you have any idea what he looks like?

'I never thought to ask. '

'I'm sorry. '

'I'm sorrier. I'll have to place a very embarrassing call to Vancouver... Oh, I did see one name. It has nothing to do with my cousin, but I think she's a friend of a friend. A woman named Staples. '

'Catherine the Great?' She's here, all right, although a few of the staff wouldn't mind seeing her promoted to ambassador and sent to Eastern Europe. She makes them nervous. She's top flight. '

'Oh, you mean she's here now?'

'Not thirty feet away. You want to give me your friend's name and see if she has time to say hello?

Marie was tempted, but the onus of officialdom prohibited the shortcut. If things were as Marie thought they were and alarms had been sent out to friendly consulates, Staples might feel compelled to co-operate. She probably would not, but she had the integrity of her office to uphold. Embassies and consulates constantly sought favours from one another. She needed time with Catherine, and not in an official setting. That's very nice of you,' Marie said to the receptionist . 'My friend would get a kick out of it... Wait a minute. Did you say "Catherine"!"

'Yes. Catherine Staples. Believe me, there's only one. '

'I'm sure there is, but my friend's friend is Christine. Oh, Lord, this isn't my day. You've been very kind, so I'll get out of your hair and leave you in peace. '