if.themanwiththegoldengun-第19部分

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　〃Is　no　matter。　Show　me；　pliss。〃　Mr。　Hendriks　followed　Leiter　to　the　far　corner　of　the　lobby　and　was　shown　into　the　booth。　He　carefully　closed　the　leather…padded　door　and　picked　up　the　receiver　and　talked　into　it。　Then　he　stood　waiting；　watching　Leiter　e　back　across　the　marble　floor　and　speak　deferentially　to　Bond。　〃You　were　saying；　sir？〃
　〃It's　my　lavatory。　Something　wrong　with　the　ballcock。　Is　there　anywhere　else？〃
　〃I'm　so　sorry；　sir。　I'll　have　the　house　engineer　look　at　it　at　once。　Yes；　certainly。　There's　the　lobby　toilet。　The　decoration　isn't　pleted　and　it's　not　officially　in　use；　but　it's　in　perfectly　good　working　order。〃　He　lowered　his　voice。　〃And　there's　a　connecting　door　with　my　office。　Leave　it　for　ten　minutes　while　I　run　back　the　tape　of　what　this　bastard's　saying。　I　heard　the　call　was　ing　through。　Don't　like　the　sound　of　it。　May　be　your　worry。〃　He　gave　a　little　bow　and　waved　Bond　towards　the　central　table　with　magazines　on　it。　〃If　you'll　just　take　a　seat　for　a　few　moments；　sir；　and　then　I'll　take　care　of　you。〃
　Bond　nodded　his　thanks　and　turned　away。　In　the　booth；　Hendriks　was　talking。　His　eyes　were　fixed　on　Bond　with　a　terrible　intensity。　Bond　felt　the　skin　crawl　at　the　base　of　his　stomach。　This　was　it　all　right！　He　sat　down　and　picked　up　an　old　Wall　Street　Journal。　Surreptitiously　he　tore　a　small　piece　out　of　the　centre　of　page　one。　It　could　have　been　a　tear　at　the　crossfold。　He　held　the　paper　up　at　page　two　and　watched　Hendriks　through　the　little　hole。
　Hendriks　watched　the　back　of　the　paper　and　talked　and　listened。　He　suddenly　put　down　the　receiver　and　came　out　of　the　booth。　His　face　gleamed　with　sweat。　He　took　out　a　clean　white　handkerchief　and　ran　it　over　his　face　and　neck　and　walked　rapidly　off　down　the　corridor。
　Nick　Nicholson；　as　neat　as　a　pin；　came　across　the　lobby　and；　with　a　courtly　smile　and　a　bow　for　Bond；　took　up　his　place　behind　the　desk。　It　was　8：30。　Five　minutes　later；　Felix　Leiter　came　out　from　the　inner　office。　He　said　something　to　Nicholson　and　came　over　to　Bond。　There　was　a　pale；　pinched　look　round　his　mouth。　He　said；　〃And　now；　if　you'll　follow　me；　sir。〃　He　led　the　way　across　the　lobby；　unlocked　the　men's　room　door；　followed　Bond　in；　and　locked　the　door　behind　him。　They　stood　among　the　carpentry　work　by　the　washbasins。　Leiter　said　tensely；　〃I　guess　you've　had　it；　James。　They　were　talking　Russian；　but　your　name　and　number　kept　on　cropping　up。　Guess　you'd　better　get　out　of　here　just　as　quickly　as　that　old　jalopy　of　yours'll　carry　you。〃
　Bond　smiled　thinly。　〃Forewarned　is　forearmed；　Felix。　I　knew　it　already。　Hendriks　has　been　told　to　rub　me。　Our　old　friend　at　K。G。B。　headquarters；　Semichastny；　has　got　it　in　for　me；　I'll　tell　you　why　one　of　these　days。〃　He　told　Leiter　of　the　Mary　Goodnight　episode　of　the　early　hours。　Leiter　listened　gloomily。　Bond　concluded；　〃So　there's　no　object　in　getting　out　now。　We　shall　hear　all　the　dope　and　probably　their　plans　for　me　at　this　meeting　at　ten。　Then　they've　got　this　excursion　business　afterwards。　Personally；　I　guess　the　shooting　match'll　take　place　somewhere　out　in　the　country；　where　there　are　no　witnesses。　Now；　if　you　and　Nick　could　work　out　something　that'd　upset　the　Away　Engagement；　I'll　make　myself　responsible　for　the　home　pitch。〃
　Leiter　looked　thoughtful。　Some　of　the　cloud　lifted　from　his　face。　He　said；　〃I　know　the　plans　for　this　afternoon。　Off　on　this　miniature　train　through　the　cane　fields；　picnic；　then　the　boat　out　of　Green　Island　Harbour；　deep…sea　fishing；　and　all　that。　I've　reconnoitred　the　route　for　it　all。〃　He　raised　the　thumb　of　his　left　hand　and　pinged　the　end　of　his　steel　hook　thoughtfully。　〃Ye…e…e…s。　It's　going　to　mean　some　quick　action　and　a　heap　of　luck；　and　I'll　have　to　get　the　hell　up　to　Frome　for　some　supplies　from　your　friend　Hu…gill。　Will　he　hand　over　some　gear　on　your　say…so？　Okay；　then。　e　into　my　office　and　write　him　a　note。　It's　only　a　half…hour's　drive　and　Nick　can　hold　the　front　desk　for　that　time。　e　on。〃　He　opened　a　side　door　and　went　through　into　his　office。　He　beckoned　Bond　to　follow　and　shut　the　door　behind　him。　At　Leiter's　dictation；　Bond　took　down　the　note　to　the　manager　of　the　WISCO　sugar　estates　and　then　went　out　and　along　to　his　room。　He　took　a　strong　nip　of　straight　bourbon　and　sat　on　the　edge　of　his　bed　and　looked　unseeingly　out　of　the　window　and　across　the　lawn　to　the　sea's　horizon。　Like　a　dozing　hound　chasing　a　rabbit　in　its　dreams；　or　like　the　audience　at　an　athletics　meeting　that　lifts　a　leg　to　help　the　high…jumper　over　the　bar；　every　now　and　then；　his　right　hand　twitched　involuntarily。　In　his　mind's　eye；　in　a　variety　of　imagined　circumstances；　it　was　leaping　for　his　gun。
　Time　passed　and　James　Bond　still　sat　there；　occasionally　smoking　halfway　through　a　Royal　Blend　and　then　absent…mindedly　stubbing　it　out　in　the　bed…table　ashtray。　No　observer　could　have　guessed　what　Bond　was　thinking　about…or　how　intently　he　was　concentrating。　There　were　some　signs　of　tension…the　pulse　in　his　left　temple　was　beating　a　little　fast；　the　lips　were　slightly　pursed…but　the　brooding；　blue…grey　eyes　that　saw　nothing　were　relaxed；　almost　sleepy。　It　would　have　been　impossible　to　guess　that　James　Bond　was　contemplating　the　possibility　of　his　own　death　later　that　day；　feelmg　the　soft…nosed　bullets　tearing　into　him；　seeing　his　body　jerking　on　the　ground；　his　mouth　perhaps　screaming。　Those　were　certainly　part　of　his　thoughts；　but　the　twitching　right　hand　was　evidence　that；　in　much　of　the　whirring　film　of　his　thoughts；　the　enemy's　fire　was　not　going　unanswered…perhaps　had　even　been　anticipated。
　James　Bond　gave　a　deep　relaxed　sigh。　His　eyes　came　back　into　focus。　He　looked　at　his　watch。　It　said　9：50。　He　got　up；　ran　both　hands　down　his　lean　face　with　a　scrubbing　motion；　and　went　out　and　along　the　corridor　to　the　conference　room。
　
　12
　In　a　Glass；　Very　Darkly
　
　The　setup　was　the　same。　Bond's　travel　literature　was　on　the　buffet　table；　where　he　had　left　it。　He　went　through　into　the　conference　room。　It　had　only　been　cursorily　tidied。　Scaramanga　had　probably　said　it　was　not　to　be　entered　by　the　staff。　The　chairs　were　roughly　in　position；　but　the　ashtrays　had　not　been　emptied。　There　were　no　stains　on　the　carpet　and　no　signs　of　the　carpet　having　been　washed。　It　had　probably　been　a　single　shot　through　the　heart。　With　Scaramanga's　soft…nosed　bullets；　the　internal　damage　would　be　devastating；　but　the　fragments　of　the　bullet　would　stay　in　the　body　and　there　would　be　no　bleeding。　Bond　went　round　the　table；　ostentatiously　positioning　the　chairs　more　accurately。　He　identified　the　one　Ruby　Rotkopf　must　have　sat　in　across　the　table　from　Scaramanga…　because　it　had　a　cracked　leg。　He　dutifully　examined　the　windows　and　looked　behind　the　curtains；　doing　his　job。
　Scaramanga　came　into　the　room　followed　by　Mr。　Hendriks。　He　said　roughly；　〃Okay；　Mr。　Hazard。　Lock　both　doors　like　yesterday。　No　one　to　e　in。　Right？〃
　〃Yes。〃　As　Bond　passed　Mr。　Hendriks　he　said　cheerfully；　〃Good　morning；　Mr。　Hendriks。　Enjoy　the　party　last　night？〃
　Mr。　Hendriks　gave　his　usual　curt　bow。　He　said　nothing。　His　eyes　were　granite　marbles。
　Bond　went　out　and　locked　the　doors　and　took　up　his　position　with　the　brochures　and　the　champagne　glass。　Immediately；　Hendriks　began　talking；　quickly　and　urgently；　fumbling　for　the　English　words。　〃Mister　S。　I　have　bad　troubles　to　report。　My　Zentrale　in　Havana　spoke　with　me　this　morning。　They　have　heard　direct　from　Moscow。　This　man〃…he　must　have　made　a　gesture　towards　the　door…　〃this　man　is　the　British　secret　agent；　the　man　Bond。　There　is　no　doubt。　I　am　given　the　exact　descriptions。　When　he　goes　swimming　this　morning；　I　am　examining　his　body　through　glasses。　The　wounds　on　his　body　are　clearly　to　be　seen。　The　scar　down　the　right　side　of　the　face　leaves　no　doubt。　And　his　shooting　last　night！　The　ploddy　fool　is　proud　of　his　shooting。　I　would　like　to　see　a　member　of　my　organization　behave　in　zees　stupid　fashions！　I　would　have　him　shot　immediately。〃
　There　was　a　pause。　The　man's　tone　altered；　became　slightly　menacing。　His　target　was　now　Scaramanga。　〃But；　Mister　S。　How　can　this　have　e　about？　How　can　you　possibly　have　let　it　arrive？　My　Zentrale　is　dumbfounded　at　the　mistake。　The　man　might　have　done　much　damage　but　for　the　watchfulness　of　my　superiors。　Please　explain；　Mister　S。　I　must　be　making　the　very　full　report。　How　is　it　that　you　are　meeting　this　man？　How　is　that　you　are　then　carrying　him　efen　into　the　centre　of　The　Group？　The　details；　pliss；　Mister　S。　The　full　accounting。　My　superiors　will　be　expressing　sharp　criticism　of　the　lack　of　vigilance　against　the　enemy。〃
　Bond　heard　the　rasp　of　a　match　against　a　box。　He　could　imagine　Scaramanga　sitting　back　and　going　through　the　smoking　routine。　The　voice；　when　it　came；　was　decisive；　uncowed。　〃Mr。　Hendriks；　I　appreciate　your　outfit's　concern　about　this　and　I　congratulate　them　on　their　sources　of　information。　But　you　tell　your　Central　this：　I　met　this　man　pletely　by　accident；　at　least　I　thought　so　at　the　time；　and　there's　no　use　worrying　about　how　it　happened。　It　hasn't　been　easy　to　set　up　this　conference　and　I　needed　help。　I　had　to　get　two　managers　in　a　hurry　from　New　York　to　handle　the　hotel　people。　They're　doing　a　good　job；　right？　The　floor　staff　and　all　the　rest　I　had　to　get　from　Kingston。　But　what　I　really　needed　was　a　kind　of　personal　assistant　who　could　be　around　to　make　sure　that　everything　went　smoothly。　Personally；　I　just　couldn't　be　bothered　with　all　the　details。　When　this　guy　dropped　out　of　the　blue；　he　looked　all　right　to　me。　So　I　picked　him　up。　But　I'm　not　stupid。　I　knew　that　when　this　show　was　over　I'd　have　to　get　rid　of　him；　just　in　case　he'd　learned　anything　he　shouldn't　have。　Now　you　say　he's　a　member　of　the　Secret　Service。　I　told　you　at　the　beginning　of　this　conference　that　I　eat　these　people　for　breakfast　when　I　have　a　mind　to。　What　you've　told　me　changes　just　one　thing：　he'll　die　today　instead　of　tomorrow。　And　here's　how　it's　going　to　happen。〃
　Scaramanga　lowered　his　voice。　Now　Bond　could　only　hear　disjointed　words。　The　sweat　ran　down　from　his　ear　as　he　pressed　it　to　the　base　of　the　champagne　glass。　〃Our　train　trip　。　。　。　rats　in　the　cane　。　。　。　unfortunate　accident　。　。　。　before　I　do　it　。。。　one　hell　of　a　shock　。　。　。　details　to　myself　。　。　。　promise　you　a　big　laugh。〃　Scaramanga　must　ha