if.themanwiththegoldengun-第6部分

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on　for　the　inferiority　plex；　and　here　I　will　quote　some　well…turned　phrases　of　a　certain　Mr。　Harold　L。　Peterson　in　his　preface　to　his　finely　illustrated　The　Book　of　the　Gun　（published　by　Paul　Hamlyn）。　Mr。　Peterson　writes：
　〃In　the　vast　array　of　things　man　has　invented　to　better　his　condition；　few　have　fascinated　him　more　than　the　gun。　Its　function　is　simple；　as　Oliver　Winchester　said；　with　nineteenth…century　placency；　'A　gun　is　a　machine　for　throwing　balls。'　But　its　ever…increasing　efficiency　in　performing　this　task；　and　its　awesome　ability　to　strike　home　from　long　range；　have　given　it　tremendous　psychological　appeal。
　〃For　possession　of　a　gun　and　the　skill　to　use　it　enormously　augments　the　gunner's　personal　power；　and　extends　the　radius　of　his　influence　and　effect　a　thousand　times　beyond　his　arm's　length。　And　since　strength　resides　in　the　gun；　the　man　who　wields　it　may　be　less　than　strong　without　being　disadvantaged。　The　flashing　sword；　the　couched　lance；　the　bent　longbow　performed　to　the　limit　of　the　man　who　held　it。　The　gun's　power　is　inherent　and　needs　only　to　be　released。　A　steady　eye　and　an　accurate　aim　are　enough。　Wherever　the　muzzle　points；　the　bullet　goes；　bearing　the　gunner's　wish　or　intention　swiftly　to　the　target。　。　。　。　Perhaps　more　than　any　other　implement；　the　gun　has　shaped　the　course　of　nations　and　the　destiny　of　men。〃
　In　the　Freudian　thesis；　〃his　arm's　length〃　would　bee　the　length　of　the　masculine　organ。　But　we　need　not　linger　over　these　esoterica。　The　support　for　my　premise　is　well　expressed　in　Mr。　Peterson's　sinewy　prose　and…though　I　would　substitute　the　printing　press　for　the　gun　in　his　concluding　paragraph…　his　points　are　well　taken。　The　subject；　Scaramanga；　is；　in　my　opinion；　a　paranoiac　in　subconscious　revolt　against　the　father　figure　（i。e。；　the　figure　of　authority）　and　a　sexual　fetishist　with　possible　homosexual　tendencies。　He　has　other　qualities　which　are　self…evident　from　the　earlier　testimony。　In　conclusion；　and　having　regard　to　the　damage　he　has　already　wrought　upon　the　personnel　of　the　S。S。；　I　conclude　that　his　career　should　be　terminated　with　the　utmost　dispatch…if　necessary　by　the　inhuman　means　he　himself　employs　…in　the　unlikely　event　an　agent　of　equal　courage　and　dexterity　can　be　made　available。　＇Signed　〃C。C。〃＇
　Beneath；　at　the　end　of　the　docket；　the　Head　of　the　Caribbean　and　Central　American　Section　had　minuted　〃I　concur；〃　signed　〃C。A。〃　To　this　Chief　of　Staff　had　added；　in　red　ink；　〃Noted。　C。O。S。〃
　M。　gazed　into　space　for　perhaps　five　minutes。　Then　he　reached　for　his　pen　and；　in　green　ink；　scrawled　the　word　Action？　followed　by　the　italic；　authoritative　M。
　Then　he　sat　very　still　for　another　five　minutes　and　wondered　if　he　had　signed　James　Bond's　death　warrant。
　
　4
　The　Stars　Foretell
　
　There　are　few　less　prepossessing　places　to　spend　a　hot　afternoon　than　Kingston　International　Airport　in　Jamaica。　All　the　money　has　been　spent　on　lengthening　the　runway　out　into　the　harbour　to　take　the　big　jets；　and　little　was　left　over　for　the　fort　of　transit　passengers。　James　Bond　had　e　in　an　hour　before　on　a　B。W。I。A。　flight　from　Trinidad；　and　there　were　two　hours　to　go　before　he　could　continue　the　roundabout　journey　to　Havana。　He　had　taken　off　his　coat　and　tie　and　now　sat　on　a　hard　bench　gloomily　surveying　the　contents　of　the　In…Bound　shop　with　its　expensive　scents；　liquor；　and　piles　of　overdecorated　native　ware　He　had　had　luncheon　on　the　plane；　it　was　the　wrong　time　for　a　drink；　and　it　was　too　hot　and　too　far　to　take　a　taxi　into　Kingston　even　had　he　wanted　to。　He　wiped　his　already　soaking　handkerchief　over　his　face　and　neck　and　cursed　softly　and　fluently。
　A　cleaner　ambled　in　and；　with　the　exquisite　languor　of　such　people　throughout　the　Caribbean；　proceeded　to　sweep　very　small　bits　of　rubbish　hither　and　thither；　occasionally　dipping　a　boneless　hand　into　a　bucket　to　sprinkle　water　over　the　dusty　cement　floor。　Through　the　slatted　jalousies　a　small　breeze；　reeking　of　the　mangrove　swamps；　briefly　stirred　the　dead　air　and　then　was　gone。　There　were　only　two　other　passengers　in　the　〃lounge；〃　Cubans　perhaps；　with　jippa…jappa　luggage。　A　man　and　a　woman。　They　sat　close　together　against　the　opposite　wall　and　stared　fixedly　at　James　Bond；　adding　minutely　to　the　oppression　of　the　atmosphere。　Bond　got　up　and　went　over　to　the　shop。　He　bought　a　Daily　Gleaner　and　returned　to　his　place。　Because　of　its　inconsequence　and　occasionally　bizarre　choice　of　news　the　Gleaner　was　a　favourite　paper　of　Bond's。　Almost　the　whole　of　that　day's　front　page　was　taken　up　with　new　ganja　laws　to　prevent　the　consumption；　sale；　and　cultivation　of　this　local　version　of　marijuana。　The　fact　that　de　Gaulle　had　just　sensationally　announced　his　recognition　of　Red　China　was　boxed　well　down　the　page。　Bond　read　the　whole　paper…〃Country　Newsbits〃　and　all…with　the　minute　care　bred　of　desperation。
　His　horoscope　said：　〃CHEER　UP！　Today　will　bring　a　pleasant　surprise　and　the　fulfilment　of　a　dear　wish。　But　you　must　earn　your　good　fortune　by　watching　closely　for　the　golden　opportunity　when　it　presents　itself　and　then　seizing　it　with　both　hands。〃　Bond　smiled　grimly。　He　would　be　unlikely　to　get　on　the　scent　of　Scaramanga　on　his　first　evening　in　Havana。　It　was　not　even　certain　that　Scaramanga　was　there。　This　was　a　last　resort。　For　six　weeks；　Bond　had　been　chasing　his　man　round　the　Caribbean　and　Central　America。　He　had　missed　him　by　a　day　in　Trinidad　and　by　only　a　matter　of　hours　in　Caracas。　Now　he　had　rather　reluctantly　taken　the　decision　of　try　and　ferret　him　out　on　his　home　ground；　a　particularly　inimical　home　ground；　with　which　Bond　was　barely　familiar。　At　least　he　had　fortified　himself　in　British　Guiana　with　a　diplomatic　passport；　and　he　was　now　〃Courier〃　Bond　with　splendidly　engraved　instructions　from　Her　Majesty　to　pick　up　the　Jamaican　diplomatic　bag　in　Havana　and　return　with　it。　He　had　even　borrowed　the　famous　Silver　Greyhound；　the　British　Courier's　emblem　for　three　hundred　years。　If　he　could　do　his　job　and　then　get　a　few　hundred　yards'　start；　this　would　at　least　give　him　sanctuary　in　the　British　Embassy。　Then　it　would　be　up　to　the　P。O。　to　bargain　him　out。　If　he　could　find　his　man。　If　he　could　carry　out　his　instructions。　If　he　could　get　away　from　the　scene　of　the　shooting。　If；　if；　if。　。。。。　Bond　turned　to　the　advertisements　on　the　back　page。　At　once　an　item　caught　his　eye。　It　was　so　typically　〃old〃　Jamaica。　This　is　what　he　read：
　
　FOR　SALE　BY　AUCTION
　AT　　　77　　　HARBOUR　　　STREET；　　　KINGSTON；
　At　10：30　a。m。　on　WEDNESDAY；
　27th　MAY
　under　Powers　of　Sale　contained　in　a　mortgage　from　Cornelius　Brown　et　ux
　
　No。　3…1/2　LOVE　LANE；
　SAVANNAH　LA　MAR。
　
　Containing　the　substantial　residence　and　all　that　parcel　of　land　by　measurement　oh　the　Northern　Boundary　three　chains　and　fivee　perches；　on　the　Southern　Boundary　five　chains　and　one　perch；　on　the　Eastern　Boundary　two　chains　exactly；　and　on　the　Western　Boundary　four　chains　and　two　perches　be　the　same　in　each　case　and　more　or　less　and　butting　Northerly　on　No。　4　Love　Lane。
　
　THE　C。　D。　ALEXANDER
　CO。　LTD。
　77　　　HARBOUR　　STREET；　　KINGSTON
　PHONE　　　4897。
　
　James　Bond　was　delighted。　He　had　had　many　assignments　in　Jamaica　and　many　adventures　on　the　island。　The　splendid　address　and　all　the　stuff　about　chains　and　perches　and　the　old…fashioned　abracadabra　at　the　end　of　the　advertisement　brought　back　all　the　authentic　smell　of　one　of　the　oldest　and　most　romantic　of　former　British　possessions。　For　all　her　new…found　〃independence〃　he　would　bet　his　bottom　dollar　that　the　statue　of　Queen　Victoria　in　the　centre　of　Kingston　had　not　been　destroyed　or　removed　to　a　museum；　as　similar　relics　of　an　historic　infancy　had　been　in　the　resurgent　African　states。　He　looked　at　his　watch。　The　Gleaner　had　consumed　a　whole　hour　for　him。　He　picked　up　his　coat　and　briefcase。　Not　much　longer　to　go！　In　the　last　analysis；　life　wasn't　all　that　dismal。　One　must　forget　the　bad　and　remember　the　good。　What　were　a　couple　of　hours　of　heat　and　boredom　in　this　island　pared　with　memories　of　Beau　Desert　and　Honeychile　Wilder　and　his　survival　against　the　mad　Dr。　No？　James　Bond　smiled　to　himself　as　the　dusty　pictures　clicked　across　his　brain。　How　long　ago　it　all　was！　What　had　happened　to　her？　She　never　wrote。　The　last　he　had　heard；　she　had　had　two　children　by　the　Philadelphia　doctor　she　had　married。　He　wandered　off　into　the　grandly　named　〃Concourse；〃　where　the　booths　of　many　airlines　stood　empty　and　promotion　folders　and　little　pany　flags　on　their　counters　gathered　the　dust　blown　in　with　the　mangrove　breeze。
　There　was　the　customary　central　display　stand　holding　messages　for　ining　and　outgoing　passengers。　As　usual；　Bond　wondered　whether　there　would　be　something　for　him。　In　all　his　life　there　never　had　been。　Automatically　he　ran　his　eye　over　the　scattered　envelopes；　held；　under　tape；　beneath　each　parent　letter。　Nothing　under　〃B。〃　And　nothing　under　his　alias　〃H〃　for　〃Hazard；　Mark〃　of　the　〃Trans…world　Consortium；〃　successor　to　the　old　〃Universal　Export；〃　that　had　recently　been　discarded　as　cover　for　the　Secret　Service。　Nothing。　He　ran　a　bored　eye　over　the　other　envelopes。　He　suddenly　froze。　He　looked　around　him；　languidly；　casually。　The　Cuban　couple　was　out　of　sight。　Nobody　else　was　looking。　He　reached　out　a　quick　hand；　wrapped　in　his　handkerchief；　and　pocketed　the　buff　envelope　that　said；　〃Scaramanga。　BOAC　passenger　from　Luna。〃　He　stayed　where　he　was　for　a　few　minutes　and　then　wandered　slowly　off　to　the　door　marked　MEN。
　He　locked　the　door　and　sat　down。　The　envelope　was　not　sealed。　It　contained　a　B。W。I。A。　message　form。　The　neat　B。W。I。A。　writing　said：
　
　MESSAGE　　RECEIVED　　FROM　　KINGSTON　　AT　　12：15：
　〃THE　SAMPLES　WILL　　BE　AVAILABLE　AT　3…1/2　S。L。M。
　AS　FROM　MIDDAY　TOMORROW。〃
　There　was　no　signature。　Bond　uttered　a　short　bark　of　laughter　and　triumph。　S。L。M。…Savannah　La　Mar。　Could　it　be？　It　must　be！　At　last　the　three　red　stars　of　a　jackpot　had　clicked　into　line。　What　was　it　his　Gleaner　horoscope　had　said？　Well　he　would　go　nap　on　this　clue　from　outer　space…〃seize　it　with　both　hands〃　as　the　Gleaner　had　instructed。　He　read　the　message　again　and　carefully　put　it　back　in　the　envelope。　His　damp　handkerchief　had　left　marks　on　the　buff　envelope。　In　this　heat　they　would　dry　out　in　a　matter　of　minutes。　He　went　out　and　saunt