Chapter 4 dead eye

On a breezy, cool afternoon in late summer of 2017, Fraser killed his wife's lover.This stupid move made him regret it immediately.The act of murdering anyone is utterly foolish when there are so many more effective means available.But even if he had to kill, why kill his wife's lover?In this way the two sins are added together: not only the killing of a life, but the killing of an irrelevant life.Immediately after the incident, he realized that if he had to kill, then he should kill her. After all, she was the one who committed the crime of breaking the marriage.Poor Hewitt is nothing more than a means and tool of crime, and is really just an innocent bystander.Yes, she should have been killed, not Hewitt, or even himself.But he killed Hewitt, a stupid thing to do, and a stupid way to do it.

All this was done very quickly and without premeditation.Hewitt was at a museum board meeting to discuss expanding the Mammal Hall.Because it was very cool that day and the air was particularly fresh and pleasant, he went to the balcony of the building to breathe fresh air during the break between meetings.The smooth bronze door on the edge of the balcony led directly to the depths of the corridor. Looking into the corridor, he saw a man with black hair, wearing a dirty blue-gray overalls.From the man's tall, straight shoulders and his long wind-blown hair, Fraser instantly recognized Hewitt.

Fraser thought: He wants to see me.He knows I'm here for a meeting today, and he's come here to confront me face to face, to tell me that he's in love with my famous and beautiful wife, and to simply step aside and let him have her all to himself. Fraser's pulse quickened and his face began to heat up.He had thought for a long time about the idea that Hewitt possessed Mariana, and indeed Hewitt might have possessed Mariana in every conceivable way, and Mariana, in turn, possessed Hewitt in the same way.At this point the thought also occurred to him: To share her with Hewitt—it would be incredible!And it wasn't the right place to discuss it with him.Even as he thought about it, the more primitive parts of his brain were pumping adrenaline, preparing him for a desperate fight.

It didn't seem like Hewitt, however, was about to barge onto the balcony to confront his lover's husband; apparently he just wanted to take a shortcut from his laboratory to the fourth-floor cafeteria. He walked forward, brow furrowed, as if contemplating the esoteric details of trilobite anatomy, not noticing Fraser at all. "Herwitt?" Fraser finally called when Hewitt was almost in front of him. Startled, Hewitt looked up, blinking.For a moment he didn't seem to recognize Fraser. The instant he blinked he stopped, his tangled hair forming a black halo around his head, his gaunt, clumsy body lost balance as he strode forward, he Those strange shining eyes flickered like yellow beacons.In his rage, Fraser pictured the man's naked, pale, bony body, his white chest strewn with sparse strands of black hair, his slender arms around Mariana. , his protruding knuckle-knuckle hands were holding her breasts, and his thin, wide lips were pressing on hers.Fraser also imagined his filthy overalls lying cluttered at the foot of the bed, with her orange silk coat beside it.It was this that drove Fraser mad, not her infidelity, nor the tight embrace (there were plenty of them in every film she made, and he never cared , because he knew it was just for the audience), not to mention Hewitt's scrawny exterior, clumsy gait, or lustful eyes.What drove Fraser mad was that the overalls Hewitt was wearing—it was dirty and tattered, a button was missing, and the pocket flap was hanging from the edge of the bag because it was unthreaded—was piled up on the bed that Mariana had thrown out of bed. Next to the silk coat.She would have taken a fancy to such a lover, a morose, fossil-fiddling wretch, a guy who'd been shut up in a lab all day and working so hard that he didn't even have chest muscles.No, no, no...

"Hello, Loren." Hewitt greeted.He smiled and held out his hand to Fraser amiably.His eyes were narrowed, as if they were shining with light.Fraser thought: It must be these strange eyes that made Mariana fall in love. "I didn't expect to meet you here." He stood there smiling all over his face and holding out his hand.The hem of his frayed overalls fluttered in the wind. Suddenly Fraser felt he couldn't stand this guy living in the same world as him anymore.He rushed forward, grabbing Hewitt's wrist instead of his hand, pushing instead of pulling, causing him to back up against the fence and flip him over.All this in a quarter of a second.Hewitt was stunned, he seemed to be floating upwards, stayed in the air for a moment, and then began to fall.Fraser took a last look at Hewitt's eyes, which were as bright as glass, staring straight into his own, capturing the murderer's face like a photograph.Then Hewitt fell straight down.

Oops!thought Fraser.He leaned over the fence and looked down, and saw Hewitt lying face down in the yard five stories below, his limbs sprawled, his lab coat still fluttering in the wind. An hour later he arrived at the airport with only a light suitcase containing just enough clothes for the day and a few cosmetic items.He flew first to Dallas, with a 90-minute layover, to San Francisco, and then back to Calgary as night fell, where he caught an express train bound for Mexico City at midnight.In Mexico City he registered under the alias he used to do business and checked into a hotel.This is his legal alias, which he uses when doing business in Macau, Singapore and Hong Kong.Standing on the roof platform of a 30-story tower building, he breathed in the smoky air, heard the screeching of vehicles and the sound of drums in the distance, and saw the dazzling green in the smoky sky. Lightning, I really don't know if I should jump down the stairs.However, in the end he decided to fight against fate to the end.He didn't want to have the slightest similarity with Hewitt, even in the way of death, he absolutely couldn't be the same, and in any case he couldn't take such an overreaction as suicide.But first he should find out the extent of his troubles.

There are information running records in the hotel.After he called, he was told that the fee for inquiring information was 5 million pesos for every hour of computer use.He wondered a little if it was as expensive as it sounded.Pesos aren't really worth much, are they?In dollars, maybe $100 or $500?It's nothing. "I want Harvard legal information records," he said to the computer monitor screen, "criminal circumstances, court arguments, specifics, details of evidence." He typed the instructions one by one solemnly until he was close to what he needed. "Eye flash photography," he said, "principle, technical details, method of recreating the image, whether it was admitted as evidence, the reliability of the record, the number of appeals dismissed. Is there a Supreme Court decision?"

All the information he got was presented in odd and incomprehensible fragments of sentences.He printed it out, for which he had to pay an extra rate of 5 million pesos per hour.The information recorded on the printout is as follows: The perception path located in the outer layer of the brain... wide-order optical structure... the image is printed on the cerebral cortex or the cerebral cortex in charge of vision... low-level neurons... use the body that bends sideways to store visual information... low-level neurons...absorb Radioactive Glucose...Downward Loading...Signal Decay...Decay Period...Signal Enhancement Filter...Nevada v. Benson, 2011...Hippocampus Simulation...Amygdaloid Structure...Acetylcholine...U.S. Supreme Court, 2012 March 23, 2003...see Gross & Bernstein, August 13, 2003...Mishkin...Appenzeller...

Enough is enough.He drowsily flicked through the printouts until dawn.Then he drowsily calculated the time difference and called his lawyer in New York. Fraser pressed the privacy filter button.The lawyer only knew that a client had called, but the image on the TV phone screen was blurred and the sound was unrecognizable after filtering.It's not so much protecting Fraser as it is protecting lawyers.Because of the strange tricks that have recently appeared in the legal world, lawyers have become more and more wary of risking being accused of being an accomplice of their clients.Soon, a question about the payment method appeared on the screen.Fraser replied to send the bill to the hotel, and an instruction appeared on the screen to continue the call.

"Suppose I was responsible for a fatal incident, and the victim had a good chance of seeing me clearly when it happened. How likely are they to reproduce the 'eye flash photography' images? " "It depends on how much damage there was in the death process. How did it happen?" "Isn't this the inside information that is not allowed to be disclosed by law?" "Feel sorry." "Can't it be revealed even with the privacy filter pressed?" "Yes. But if the manner of death is unique or very special, how can I draw a correct conclusion? If so, then I must know more circumstances."

"It's not unique," Fraser said, "or at all, but I don't want to go into details. But I can tell you that it's not a traumatic brain injury. I mean, it's not like Like a bullet going between the eyes or falling into a hydrochloric acid tank..." "I see. This happened in a big city?" "Yes, a big city." "In Missouri, Alabama, or Kentucky?" "Neither," Fraser replied. "This happened in a state where it's legal to reproduce 'eyeblink' images. There's no question about that." "What about the body? How long do you estimate the body will be found after death?" "It can be said that it will be discovered in a few minutes." "When did this happen?" Fraser hesitated for a moment. "Just within the past 24 hours." "Then it is entirely possible to reproduce in your victim's mind what he saw when he died, and undoubtedly has. Are you sure he was looking at you when he died?" "Keep an eye on me." "My guess is that a warrant may have been issued for you. If you want me to represent you, then please turn off the privacy filter so I can figure out who you are and discuss the options." "I'll talk about it later," said Fraser, "I think I'd better run away." "But your chance to escape..." "That's what I have to do," Fraser said, "and I'll call you." He was almost certain his situation was terrible.Yesterday he flew around the mainland like crazy, wasting the most critical time.He should have used this time to transfer funds and establish a safe haven... The only question now is whether they have started to arrest him.If so, then his bank deposits will be frozen everywhere, his passport will be scrutinized at every airport, and all kinds of bans will be issued against him all over the world.But if that was the case, they might have tracked him down to the hotel where he was staying.Apparently they didn't come after him, which means they haven't found his alias for Southeast Asian business yet.It seemed that this was just a very ordinary homicide, probably second-degree homicide at best, and they had more serious crimes to solve.Fraser thinks so. He paid the bill and left the hotel, not in the mood for breakfast, so he went straight to the airport and bought a plane ticket to Belize with his company credit card.After arriving in Belize, he bought another plane ticket to Suriname. Before boarding the plane, he tried his personal credit card to withdraw cash and was pleasantly surprised to find that his credit card was not declined.So he withdrew the maximum sum, which of course left evidence: Loren Fraser had been in Belize that day.Yet he did not travel under the name of Fraser, nor would he be in Suriname very long, and by the time they tracked him down there (assuming they could), he would have been elsewhere under an entirely different name. where is it.If he kept hiding for half a year or eight months, maybe he would disappear so that they would never find him.Will they hunt forever?he does not know.One day they'll file it and forget about it.Of course, he didn't want to run away forever, and at this moment he had already begun to miss Mariana, even though she had done such a thing. He spent three days in a small Dutch hotel with a pale green front in Suriname, eating rich noodles and waiting for the police to arrest him, but no one came to bother him.Using the cash register again, he keyed in one of his company's account numbers and transferred a large sum of money to the account of Andreas Schmidt in Zurich.He had used that name to import and export with Zimbabwe seven years ago, and he didn't know why he remembered it so well.When he checked Schmidt's account, he found that there was already a deposit in it, and the amount was not small, and his Swiss passport had not yet expired.He then asked the Chargé d'Affaires ai of Switzerland in Guyana to prepare a copy of his passport for him.He took a speedboat to Saint-Laurent, a French Guiana city on the Mazaruni River, and from there took a taxi to Cayenne, and then flew from Cayenne to the capital, Georgetown.A lawyer named Chatterjee had fetched his passport from Switzerland and was waiting for him with a big smile on his face.He traveled on under Schmidt's name to Buenos Aires, where he destroyed all papers on Fraser, lest he keep trying to find out whether an injunction against Fraser had been issued.Only an irrational fool would leave them a trail to Buenos Aires just to satisfy his curiosity.If they weren't looking for him already (for Hewitt's murder), at this point they'd just think of him as a missing man.In either case, it would be best to forget who he was before and act in Schmidt's name here and now. This is kind of funny, he thought.Yet he misses his wife Mariana terribly. He sat in a sidewalk café drinking bottle after bottle of claret, thinking about Marianne's affair.How absurd was it that this world-renowned actress should have committed adultery with this lumbering, scrawny paleontologist?How is this possible?She was doing adverts at the museum - a business he actually helped connect with Fraser, since he was on the museum's board of trustees, and Hewitt volunteered to do the advert as head of the paleontological and invertebrate section technical advisor.Everyone says he has a good heart.This incident obviously delayed his scientific research time.He seemed so dull and unattractive that who could doubt that he had a secret lust for this glamorous movie star?No one can imagine this.Things must have exploded out of nowhere, perhaps from some chemistry between them, but it was inexplicable anyway.People began to notice and wink at Fraser, eventually even himself.A truly faithful and loving husband is usually the last to know the truth, for he always puts the best of explanations on things, but as time goes by the clues pile up until things can no longer be ignored, Deny or give other satisfactory explanations.When something like this starts, there are often small changes: They start reading books they never read before, talk about completely different topics, and even watch some new movies in bed.Later, genuine carelessness is revealed to each other, and what appears to be an unconscious estrangement reveals the true nature of their situation.Fraser eventually had to face reality, and it caused him a lot of pain.There has never been any gap in their marriage relationship before, allowing a third party to intervene.Despite his money and power, he never flirted with any woman, and Marianne never had an affair.He thought so.Both of them were married for the second time, and they thought that they would live happily ever after, but who would have thought that they would end up in this situation. "Sir, would you like another bottle?" "No," he said, "yes, yes, another bottle." He stared at the plate in front of him, piled high with sausages, sweetbreads, and grilled steaks.Where did this all come from?He was sure he had eaten everything.Glumly, he cut off a piece of sausage, ate it unconsciously, and took a sip of his wine.They mixed the wine with half of the selzer water, which might help you digest the huge plate of meat better. Afterwards he walked along the narrow, brightly lit sidewalk and saw the stream of beautiful cars that had gone out for evening drives.He saw Mariana coming out of a jewelry store in a gaucho leather jacket and leggings with gold embroidery and emerald earrings.He grunted, as though he had been hit hard, and pressed his elbows to his sides, as if preparing for a second blow.Then he saw an elegant young Argentine leave a table by the side of the road and walk quickly towards her.They laughed, hugged each other, and flew past him arm in arm, without even looking at him.But at once he remembered: women all over the world dress like Marianne at this time of year.In fact, the one I just met was half a head taller than Mariana.Yet wherever he went, he had to be prepared for such situations.There were women like Marianne everywhere, who charmed him with their beauty, but had no idea what they were up to.He found himself wishing deep down that the woman who slept with the paleontologist in the museum was just a copycat of Mariana, who was home alone and thinking of him. Six weeks later, in Montreal, he charged his company credit card, pressed the privacy filter, and ventured home to call, only to find the line cut.When he tried to dial the office number, a robot face appeared on the screen and told him gently that Mr. Fraser was not available to answer the phone at this time, nor did he know when Fraser would be available.Frazier asked again to speak to his assistant manager, Markman, and a moment later a sad face appeared on the screen, the face facing him was almost unrecognizable because of the pained expression.Fraser explained to him that he was an accountant for the Bucharest branch and wanted to call to report a highly sensitive matter. "Don't you know?" Markman said, "Fraser is missing and the police are looking for him." Fraser asked him why, and Markman had a look of shame and confusion on his face. "He's being charged with a crime," Markman whispered with tears in his eyes. Then he called his lawyer and said, "I'm calling about the Fraser case. I don't want to turn off the secrecy filter, but I think you can figure out who I am without even trying." "I don't think I can guess. But don't tell me where you are, will you?" It was pretty much exactly what he had expected.They have reconstructed the image of the murder scene left in the eyes of the dead: the photography is very clear, deeply imprinted in the cerebral cortex tissue-Fraser is facing Hewitt, reaching out quickly to grab Hewitt's arm, when Fraser When Zee lifts Hewitt up and throws him over the fence, it's a really creative shot with the sky in the background. "Forgive me for saying this, but you do look a little deranged," the lawyer told him. "Those pictures were published the next day on all the news media networks. Your eyes look really scary. I'm sure the company It's bound to be damaged, even if it's a crime of passion. You'll get probation, and of course rehabilitation, maybe a year or two. After that you won't be as prosperous professionally as you used to be, but consider arrive……" "What about my wife?" Fraser asked. "Do you know what she's doing?" "You know, of course I don't represent her. But she's also in the news and is said to be traveling." "where?" "I don't know. But I can manage to find out, if you call me at this time tomorrow. It's just that I suggest you call another number, it's for your own good, and the number is..." "For my good or yours?" Fraser said. "I'm trying to help you as much as I can," said the lawyer, with a displeased voice. He began brushing up on French, Italian and German to become more fluent in his current role — Andreas Schmidt — and to adopt a soft German accent.As long as he didn't come across a real Swiss talking to him in Romance or Schwyz dialect, he wouldn't show anything.He kept moving from place to place: Strasbourg, Athens, Haifa, Tunisia.He knew that even if no funds were ever transferred to him, he would have enough money sitting in Schmidt's account to spend smartly for ten or fifteen years, by which time he hoped to be able to transfer That's it. He saw Mariana in Tel Aviv, Israel, Heraklion on the Greek island of Crete, and Tunisia.Of course they were all imitators of Mariana, and he could recognize them at a glance.But just seeing the slender, protruding nose, the beautiful violet eyes, and the golden-brown curls made him want to rush up and hug them.But he had to restrain himself again, forced himself to turn around, and bit his lip tightly. In London, just outside the Connaught Hotel, he saw the real Marianne. They had a wonderful time here during their honeymoon in 2007.He cringed at the sight of the familiar facade of the Connaught Hotel, and he panicked even more when he saw Marianne coming out of it.Marianna was still young, beautiful, and radiant, in a coat of silver that shone like a cloud.He had little doubt that this was the real Marianne, and not some fashion-forward imitator of her.Her gait shows that she is so calm and confident.There was something joyful and dignified in her inner beauty, which the most careful impersonator could not have dressed with the aid of any beautician, and the sidewalks seemed to pay her homage.Later Fraser saw that the man walking arm in arm with her was himself, also young, beautiful, and radiant.This is Loren Fraser on his honeymoon seven years ago, his hair dark and thick, his love of life and success and his beautiful and noble new wife added infinite brilliance, just like the emperor's A cloak is draped over him.Fraser knew this must be his hallucination, and that his mental breakdown had progressed to a more serious stage.He stood there dumbfounded as the Frasers passed him, disappeared like phantoms in the direction of Grosvenor Square, and then he felt his body shake and he almost fell to the ground.The hotel porter came forward, and Fraser had to say that he suddenly felt very ill.Since he was well dressed, spoke with a foreign accent, and could just find a 20 shilling coin in his pocket for a tip at this critical moment, the porter helped him into the taxi and expressed his deep concern. Ten minutes later he returned to his hotel, on the other side of London's West End.He drank three glasses of Dutch wine in a row, sat in the room trembling all over, and it was not until an hour passed that the vision in his mind gradually disappeared. "I suggest you turn yourself in," said the lawyer, whom Fraser called from Nairobi. "Of course you can go on as long as you like. But you've worn yourself out, and sooner or later you'll be found. So why keep putting off the inevitable?" "Have you talked to Mariana lately?" "She wants you back. She wants to write to you, call you, or see you, wherever you are. I told her you refused to give me your address. Do you still take that attitude?" "I don't want to see her, and I don't want to hear from her." "She loves you." "I'm a killer. I'd probably do the same to her as I did to Hewitt." "I'm sure you don't really think..." "Don't really think so," Fraser said. "Then at least let me give her an address for you, so she can write to you." "It's going to be a trap, isn't it?" "Of course you don't think that..." "Who knows? Anything could happen." "For example, set up a mailbox in Caracas, the capital of Venezuela." The lawyer suggested, "For the sake of discussion, let us assume that you are in Rio de Janeiro, and I will arrange for a middleman to pick up the letter and send it to the capital of Peru through the American Express Company." Lima, then you pick a date, and without anyone else knowing, do a quick trip to and from Peru and…” "So that they catch me when I get the letter," Fraser said. "Do you think I'm that stupid? You can arrange forty middlemen to deliver the letter, and if I try to get the letter, I still have to stay." Traces. Besides, I'm no longer in South America, and that was a few months ago." "This is just for discussion..." said the lawyer, but Fraser had hung up. He decides to change his face and settle down somewhere.The lawyer was right: traveling non-stop will only wear you out.As long as he continues to maintain his original appearance, the possibility of being discovered will greatly increase when he stays in one place for a week or more.Anyway, he always wanted his nose to be longer, his chin to be less protruding, and his eyebrows to be thicker.He fancied himself a lot like the Slavs, though none of his ancestors were Eastern Europeans at all.One long, drizzling night in the historic Hilton Hotel in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, he painted a face he thought was very Swiss: rugged, excitable, with A bit of French elegance, German dullness, French enthusiasm.Then he went downstairs and showed the portrait to one of the bartenders, a quick-witted little Portuguese. "Where do you think this man came from?" "Lisbon," answered the waiter immediately, "look at that long jaw and those lips—yes, he must be from Lisbon, and he's well-known. But I don't know him, Mr. Schmidt, and he's not me." Acquaintance. Do you still have a martini as usual?" "Have a double." He had plastic surgery in Vienna.Everyone said that the top plastic surgeons were all in Geneva, but in this world Switzerland was a country he dared not enter, so he used his relationship at the Zurich bank to learn the name of the second best plastic surgeon .However, the chief surgeon of the Vienna Plastic Surgery Hospital was a Swiss, which made Fraser momentarily frightened and uneasy, so he pretended that he was from Zurich.But the doctor had been in his profession for a long time, and he knew full well that a man who wanted to completely change his appearance would certainly not want to talk about him personally.The doctor was a tall, jovial, extroverted man named Landeger, who was conspicuously crippled.Lameness from a skiing accident, the doctor explained.It must be easier to heal a leg than to change his appearance, Fraser thought, and maybe he'll wait until he's done with the season before heals his leg.Landeger looked at Fraser's portrait carefully and said to him: "This operation is not a problem at all. I have only one small suggestion." He sketched deftly with a pen, widening the cheekbones, and Moved the ears down and forward a bit.Fraser shrugged and thought to himself: Dr. Landeger, you can do what you want, anyway, I'm in your hands now. It took six weeks from the first incision to full healing, and he seemed to be pleased with the result—a suave, charismatic, trustworthy face, though at first he was a little worried that he would lose those traits when he smiled, and Not used to seeing a completely different face in the mirror.There was a nurse at the hospital who looked a lot like Marianne, but she had a completely different body: too wide hips, an astonishing amount of fat in the buttocks, and thick, short, muscular legs.She seduced him into her bed during the final stages of his hospital stay, and he thought he would be disappointed when she was with her, but when she was lying on top of him, he couldn't see her body at all, only a sliver of her body. The beautiful and enthusiastic face he was familiar with. He was still on the run: Belgrade, Sydney, Rabat, Barcelona, ​​Milan—cities that left him with such vague, fleeting impressions, with exactly the same airports and hotels, but with unpredictable climates That's all.Almost everywhere he went he saw Marianne, and sometimes he wondered how they didn't recognize him!It wasn't until he recalled that he had completely changed his appearance that he understood: even after seven years of marriage, how could they recognize him now?As he travelled, he began to notice another kind of face appearing and ubiquitously characterized by dark, Latin-shaped, sensuality, and he realized that the tide Marianne had led must have begun to fade.He had never been so distraught when he saw someone who was similar to his wife, and he still loved his wife deeply. However, this deep love is mixed with infinite resentment, and he still hasn't stopped thinking about such a question: Why did she trample on their sacred marriage relationship incomprehensibly?This was the best marriage ever: a harmonious relationship, a passionate, happy union by every standard.He has never had the idea of ​​wanting another woman, she is completely in line with his ideals, and he has every reason to think that his feelings have been reciprocated by the other woman.However, the worst thing is not that she has an affair with Hewitt, but that she completely betrays their harmonious marriage relationship and willfully destroys the perfect world that can only accommodate the two of them. He knew he was overreacting.How he wished he could undo that absurd act of impulse—the very absurd action that pushed him out of a smooth, comfortable life and reduced him to a homeless, The exhausted fugitive.He felt sorry for Hewitt, perhaps when Hewitt found himself in Marianne's arms, he must have been surprised, so deep in the whirlpool of emotion that he couldn't extricate himself, how could he stop at this moment and worry that he would Harm to other people's marriage?How ridiculous it was to kill him!When killing him, he even stared straight into his eyes, thus leaving undeniable evidence of the crime!If Fraser needed evidence of a moment of madness, the sheer stupidity of the murder itself would have provided it. However, all this can never be changed!Hewitt was dead; he himself had been on the run—for two or three years, and had lost Mariana altogether.A moment of madness has caused so much damage and loss.He really didn't know what he would do if he saw Marianna again.Will not use violence?Of course not, and never will.He suddenly imagined himself hugging her leg with tears in his eyes, begging her forgiveness, but forgive what?To forgive him for killing her lover?To forgive him for making a mess of her life and public embarrassment?Forgive him for disrupting the brisk rhythm of their happy marriage?No, he was astonished, astonished, by his own thoughts.Why should I beg for forgiveness?我没有任何过错需要她的宽恕，应当是她跪在我的面前，我不是那种可以随便让人愚弄的傻子。然而一转念，他又觉得应该彼此原谅。 “相互原谅之后，我最好是在余生之中永远不再与她来往。”他想道。这想法就像兰德格尔医生锋利的手术刀一样从他脑海里一划而过。 六个月之后，在蒙特卡洛的巴黎饭店，当他穿过那装饰华丽、形如洞穴的饭店大厅时，看见玛丽安娜站在大理石圆柱旁一大堆行李箱的前面，离他不过20英尺远。在这些日子里他已经见惯了那些与玛丽安娜一模一样的女人，因而初看这一位时并没有感到激动不安。然而后来他注意到行李箱上的花押字十分眼熟，又认出那系行李牌的红丝绳结成的精巧的蝴蝶结，于是他知道这是真正的玛丽安娜，而不是在康诺特饭店门前看见的幻影。她显得老一些了，左边脸颊上出现了一道他从来不曾见过的皱纹。她的头发颜色也变得暗淡了，发型颇为普通，衣着也相当朴素，从前的光彩已经荡然无存，即使如此人们仍然盯住她并窃窃私语。弗雷泽身子一倾，感到有些站立不稳，立即用手抓住附近的一根柱子，竭力控制自己的冲动，以免奔上前去。他深吸了一口气，然后缓慢而又引人注目地朝她面前走去，并且努力摆出一副有名望的瑞士商人的派头。 “玛丽安娜？” 她转过身来盯住他，那神情表明她根本不认识他。 “是的，我的外貌完全变了。”他微笑道。 “很遗憾，我不……” 一个比她年轻五六岁的男子，仿佛一下子从地板下面冒出来似的，不知不觉就站在了弗雷泽和玛丽安娜之间。这人细高个子，戴着太阳镜，显得很机灵。是她的情人？bodyguard?或者仅仅是她的一个随行人员？他站在弗雷泽的面前，举止大方，令人愉快，但显得坚强有力，仿佛是在说：让我们别找麻烦，对不对？ “听我说话的声音，”弗雷泽说道，“你大概没有忘记我的声音。只是我的相貌完全不同了。” 戴太阳镜的家伙明显流露出一种威胁人的神态。“等一等。”当他靠近一步与弗雷泽鼻尖对鼻尖时，玛丽安娜说道，“退下去，奥里利欧。”她望着窗外愈来愈浓的暮色说道，“洛伦？” 弗雷泽点了点头，朝她走过去。一见玛丽安娜的手势，戴太阳镜的家伙就像精灵回到魔瓶里一样消失了。弗雷泽感到他此时异常地镇静，他看见玛丽安娜的上嘴唇在颤动，鼻孔微微一扇。“我以为我决不想再见到你，”他说道，“可是我错了。当我一看见到你并认出确实是你时，就意识到我从来没有停止对你的思念，没有想要抛弃你的念头。我想完全回到从前那样的生活。” Her eyes widened. “你认为你能够吗？” “也许能。” “你真是一个该死的傻瓜。”她温和而又充满柔情地说道。 “我知道，我干的这一切把自己弄得一塌糊涂。” “我不是这个意思。”她说道，“你把我们两人都弄得一塌糊涂，更不必提那可怜的杂种了。可是这事已不能更改，不是吗？要是你知道我曾经常祈祷别发生这样的事就好了。”她摇摇头又说道，“这根本不是什么大不了的事。我和他所干的只是一件蠢事而已。你怎么竟然这么在乎？” "what?" “为这样一桩事而杀人？一瞬间就把三个人都毁了，就为了那样一桩事？” “什么？”他又说道，“你竟会对我这么说？” 戴太阳镜的家伙又突然出现在他们面前：“你就要错过去机场的车了，玛丽安娜。” “是的，是的。好，我们走吧。” 弗雷泽呆如木鸡似的一动不动地站在那里看着。戴太阳镜的家伙一点头，立即出现一群搬运工把行李箱往外运送。当玛丽安娜走到大门口时，她突然回过头来，在那昏暗的灯光中她的眼睛似乎突然改变了颜色，带有那同样奇异的黄宝石光彩，这正是他想像他在赫维特的眼睛里所看见的那种颜色。然后她转过头走出去了。 一小时之后他到领事馆去自首了。他们在通缉犯名单上没有找到他的名字，他告诉他们继续查看前几年的名单，于是才找到他的名字。他们给他半天时间了结他的事务，但他回答说他没有什么可了结的。于是他们便办理手续将他引渡回美国，而他却像一个游客补办遗失的护照那样站在一旁观看。 回国像是回到很久以前曾经游历过的一个陌生的国度一样，一切事物都很熟悉，但行事的方式却大不一样。无休止的审问、商议和心理检查。他的辩护律师礼貌得有些过分，好像他们担心说错了一个字就会引起他勃然大怒一样，不过他们都干得很出色。最终他得到缓刑处罚，给以两年改造时间。那以后，他必须移居其它城市，寻找一个合适的工作，开始他的新生。在改造期间有专人给他以帮助，此外他还要接受5年时间的观察，在此期间他必须每周汇报一次他的情况。 在两年改造期结束时，管教员告诉他，他的辩护律师们已经请求法庭让他恢复他原来的相貌。这使他大吃一惊，一时间他感到自己仿佛又成了一个逃犯，从一个机场飞往另一个机场，从一家旅馆转移到另一家旅馆，东躲西藏，心力交瘁。 “不，”他说道，“我一点也不认为那是个好主意。有那副相貌的人是另外一个人，我想我还是保持现在这副相貌更好一些。你的意见如何？” “我的看法与你一样。”管教员说道。 曾令富译 原载《科幻之窗》1999 第3期