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for circulatory purposes； and you are to kill them。 You are to do this wearing the gloves and firing the gun into each skull。 It must be the head。 Then each throat must be slit…〃
〃Mother of God； the children's？〃
〃Those are the orders。〃
〃They're barbaric！〃
〃Do you wish me to convey that judgment？〃
Fontaine looked over at the balcony door； at his woman in the wheelchair。 〃No； no； of course not。〃
〃I thought not。 。。。 There is a final instruction。 With whosesoever blood is most convenient； you are to write on the wall the following： 'Jason Bourne； brother of the Jackal。' 〃
〃Oh； my God。 。。。 I'll be caught； of course。〃
〃That's up to you。 Coordinate the executions with me and I'll swear a great warrior of France was in this villa at the time。〃
〃Time？ 。。。 What is the time？ When is this to be done？〃
〃Within the next thirty…six hours。〃
〃Then what？〃
〃You may stay here until your woman dies。〃
9
Brendan Patrick Pierre Prefontaine was again astonished。 Though he had no reservation； the front desk of Tranquility Inn treated him like a visiting celebrity； then only moments after he had secured a villa told him that he already had a villa and asked How was the flight from Paris？ Confusion descended for several minutes as the owner of Tranquility Inn could not be reached for consultation； he was not at his residence； and if he was on the premises he could not be found。 Ultimately hands were thrown up in frustration and the former judge from Boston was taken to his lodgings； a lovely miniature house overlooking the Caribbean。 By accident； hardly by design； he had reached into the wrong pocket and given the manager behind the desk a fifty…dollar American bill for his courtesy。 Prefontaine instantly became a man to be reckoned with； fingers snapped and palms hit bells rapidly。 Nothing was too splendid for the bewildering stranger who had suddenly flown in on the seaplane from Montserrat。 。。。 It was the name that had thrown everyone behind Tranquility's front desk into confusion。 Could such a coincidence be possible？ 。。。 Still the Crown governor… Err on the safe side。 Get the man a villa。
Once settled； his casual clothes distributed in the closet and the bureau； the craziness continued。 A chilled bottle of Chateau Carbonnieux '78 acpanied fresh…cut flowers； and a box of Belgian chocolates arrived； only to have a confused room…service waiter return to remove them； apologizing for the fact that they were for another villa down the line…or up the line…he thought； mon。
The judge changed into Bermuda shorts； wincing at the sight of his spindly legs； and put on a subdued paisley sport shirt。 White loafers and a white cloth cap pleted his tropical outfit； it would be dark soon and he wanted a stroll。 For several reasons。
〃I know who Jean Pierre Fontaine is；〃 said John St。 Jacques； reading the register behind the front desk； 〃he's the one the CG's office called me about； but who the hell is B。 P。 Prefontaine？〃
〃An illustrious judge from the United States；〃 declared the tall black assistant manager in a distinct British accent。 〃My uncle； the deputy director of immigration； phoned me from the airport roughly two hours ago。 Unfortunately； I was upstairs when the confusion arose； but our people did the right thing。〃
〃A judge？〃 asked the owner of Tranquility Inn as the assistant manager touched St。 Jacques's elbow； gesturing for him to move away from the desk and the clerks。 Both men did so。 〃What did your uncle say？〃
〃There must be total privvissy where our two distinguished guests are concerned。〃
〃Why wouldn't there be？ What does that mean？〃
〃My uncle was very discreet； but he did allow that he watched the honored judge go to the Inter…Island counter and purchase a ticket。 He further permitted himself to say that he knew he had been right。 The judge and the French war hero are related and wish to meet confidentially on matters of great import。〃
〃If that was the case； why didn't the honored judge have a reservation？〃
〃There appear to be two possible explanations； sir。 According to my uncle； they were originally to meet at the airport but the Crown governor's reception line precluded it。〃
〃What's the second possibility？〃
〃An error may have been made in the judge's own offices in Boston； Massachusetts。 According to my uncle； there was a brief discussion regarding the judge's law clerks； how they are prone to errors and if one had been made with his passport； he'd fly them all down to apologize。〃
〃Then judges are paid a lot more in the States than they are in Canada。 He's damned lucky we had space。〃
〃It's the summer season； sir。 We usually have available space during these months。〃
〃Don't remind me。 。。。 All right； so we've got two illustrious relatives who want to meet privately but go about it in a very plicated way。 Maybe you should call the judge and tell him what villa Fontaine is in。 Or Prefontaine…whichever the hell it is。
〃I suggested that courtesy to my uncle； sir； and he was most adamant。 He said we should do and say absolutely nothing。 According to my uncle； all great men have secrets and he would not care to have his own brilliant deduction revealed except by the parties themselves。〃
〃Beg your pardon？〃
〃If such a call were made to the judge； he would know the information could only e from my uncle； the deputy director of Montserrat's immigration。〃
〃Christ； do whatever you want； I've got other things on my mind。 。。。 Incidentally； I've doubled the patrols on the road and the beach。〃
〃We'll be stretched thin； sir。〃
〃I've shifted a number off the paths。 I know who's here； but I don't know who may want to get in here。〃
〃Do we expect trouble； sir？〃
John St。 Jacques looked at the assistant manager。 〃Not now；〃 he said。 〃I've been out checking every inch of the grounds and the beach。 By the way； I'll be staying with my sister and her children in Villa Twenty。〃
The hero of World War II's Resistance known as Jean Pierre Fontaine walked slowly up the concrete path toward the last villa overlooking the sea。 It was similar to the others； with walls of pink stucco and a red tiled roof； but the surrounding lawn was larger； the bordering shrubbery taller and denser。 It was a place for prime ministers and presidents； foreign secretaries and secretaries of state； men and women of international stature seeking the peace of pampered isolation。
Fontaine reached the end of the path where there was a four…foot…high white stuccoed wall and beyond it the impenetrable overgrown slope of the hill leading down to the shoreline。 The wall itself extended in both directions； curving around the hill below the villas' balconies； at once demarcation and protection。 The entrance to Villa Twenty was a pink wrought…iron gate bolted into the wall。 Beyond the gate the old man could see a small child running about the lawn in a bathing suit。 In moments a woman appeared in the frame of the open front door。
〃e on； Jamie！〃 she called out。 〃Time for dinner。〃
〃Has Alison eaten； Mommy？〃
〃Fed and asleep； darling。 She won't yell at her brother。〃
〃I like our house better。 Why can't we go back to our house； Mommy？〃
〃Because Uncle John wants us to stay here。 。。。 The boats a