if.themanwiththegoldengun-第8部分

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n　a　gold　metal　chain　and　handed　him　a　thick　envelope。　She　said；　〃Mostly　in　used　singles。　A　few　fivers。　Shall　I　debit　you　direct　or　put　it　in　as　expenses？〃　〃Direct　please。〃
　〃The　top　man　at　Frome　is　Tony　Hugill。　Nice　man。　Nice　wife。　Nice　children。　We've　had　a　lot　to　do　with　him；　so　he'll　be　friendly。　He　was　in　Naval　Intelligence　during　the　war；　sort　of　mando　job；　so　he　knows　the　score。　Does　a　good　job…Frome　produces　about　a　quarter　of　Jamaica's　sugar　output…but　Hurricane　Flora　and　the　tremendous　rains　we've　been　having　here　have　delayed　the　crop。　Besides　that；　he's　having　a　lot　of　trouble　with　cane　burning　and　other　small　sabotage…mostly　with　thermite　bombs　brought　in　from　Cuba。　Jamaica's　sugar　is　petition　for　Castro；　you　see。　And　with　Flora　and　all　the　rains；　the　Cuban　crop　is　going　to　be　only　about　three　million　tons　this　year；　pared　with　a　Batista　level　of　about　seven…and　very　late　because　the　rains　have　played　havoc　with　the　sucrose　content。〃
　She　smiled　her　wide　smile。　〃No　secrets。　Just　reading　the　Gleaner。　I　don't　understand　it　all；　but　apparently；　because　there's　a　tremendous　chess　game　going　on　all　over　the　world　in　sugar…in　what　they　call　sugar　futures；　that's　sort　of　buying　the　stuff　forward　for　delivery　dates　later　in　the　year。　Washington's　trying　to　keep　the　price　down；　to　upset　Cuba's　economy；　and　Castro's　out　to　keep　the　world　price　up　so　that　he　can　bargain　with　Russia。　So　it's　worth　Castro's　trouble　to　do　as　much　damage　as　possible　to　rival　sugar　crops。　He's　only　got　his　sugar　to　sell　and　he　wants　food　badly。　This　wheat　the　Americans　are　selling　to　Russia。　A　lot　of　that　will　find　its　way　back　to　Cuba；　in　exchange　for　sugar；　to　feed　the　Cuban　sugar　croppers。〃　She　smiled　again。
　〃Pretty　daft　business；　isn't　it？　I　don't　think　Castro　can　hold　out　much　longer。　The　missile　business　in　Cuba　must　have　cost　Russia　about　a　billion　pounds。　And　now　they're　having　to　pour　money　into　Cuba；　money　and　goods；　to　keep　the　place　on　its　feet。　I　can't　help　thinking　they'll　pull　out　soon　and　leave　Castro　to　go　the　way　Batista　went。　It's　a　fiercely　Catholic　country；　and　Hurricane　Flora　was　considered　as　the　final　judgment　from　heaven。　It　sat　over　the　island　and　simply　whipped　it；　day　after　day；　for　five　days。　No　hurricane　in　history　has　ever　behaved　like　that。　The　churchgoers　don't　miss　an　omen　like　that。　It　was　a　straight　indictment　of　the　regime。〃
　Bond　said　with　admiration；　〃Goodnight；　you're　a　treasure。　You've　certainly　been　doing　your　homework。〃
　The　direct　blue　eyes　looked　straight　into　his；　dodging　the　pliment。　〃This　is　the　stuff　I　live　with　here。　It's　built　into　the　Station。　But　I　thought　you　might　like　some　background　to　Frome；　and　what　I've　said　explains　why　WISCO　are　getting　these　cane　fires。　At　least　we　think　it　is。　She　took　a　sip　of　her　drink。　〃Well；　that's　all　about　sugar。　The　car's　outside。　You　remember　Strangways？　Well；　it's　his　old　Sunbeam　Alpine。　The　Station　bought　it；　and　now　I　use　it。　It's　a　bit　aged；　but　it's　still　pretty　fast　and　it　won't　let　you　down。　It's　rather　bashed　about；　so　it　won't　be　conspicuous。　The　tank's　full；　and　I've　put　the　survey　map　in　the　glove　partment。〃
　〃That's　fine。　Now；　last　question　and　then　we'll　go　and　have　dinner　and　tell　each　other　our　life　stories。　But；　by　the　way；　what's　happened　to　your　chief；　Ross？〃
　Mary　Goodnight　looked　worried。　〃To　tell　you　the　truth；　I　don't　exactly　know。　He　went　off　last　week　on　some　job　to　Trinidad。　It　was　to　try　and　locate　a　man　called　Scara…manga。　He's　a　local　gunman　of　some　sort。　I　don't　know　much　about　him。　Apparently　Headquarters　wants　him　traced　for　some　reason。〃　She　smiled　ruefully。　〃Nobody　ever　tells　me　anything　that's　interesting。　I　just　do　the　donkey　work。　Well；　mander　Ross　was　due　back　two　days　ago　and　he　hasn't　turned　up。　I've　had　to　send　off　a　Red　Warning；　but　I've　been　told　to　give　him　another　week。〃
　〃Well；　I'm　glad　he's　out　of　the　way。　I'd　rather　have　his　Number　Two。　Last　question。　What　about　this　three…and…one…half　Love　Lane？　Did　you　get　anywhere？〃
　Mary　Goodnight　blushed。　〃Did　I　not！　That　was　a　fine　question　to　get　me　mixed　up　with。　Alexander's　was　nonmittal；　and　I　finally　had　to　go　to　the　Special　Branch。　I　shan't　be　able　to　show　my　face　there　for　weeks。　Heaven　knows　what　they　must　think　of　you。　That　place　is　a；　is　a；　er〃…she　wrinkled　her　nose…〃it's　a　famous　disorderly　house　in　Sav'　La　Mar。〃
　Bond　laughed　out　loud　at　her　disfiture。　He　teased　her　with　malicious　but　gentle　sadism。　〃You　mean　it's　a　whorehouse？〃
　〃James！　For　heaven's　sake！　Must　you　be　so　crude？〃
　
　5
　No。　3　…1/2　Love　Lane
　
　The　south　coast　of　Jamaica　is　not　as　beautiful　as　the　north　and　it　is　a　long　hundred…and…twenty…mile　hack　over　very　mixed　road　surfaces　from　Kingston　to　Savannah　La　Mar　Mary　Goodnight　had　insisted　on　ing　along；　〃to　navigate　and　help　with　the　punctures。〃　Bond　had　not　demurred。
　Spanish　Town；　May　Pen；　Alligator　Pond；　Black　River；　Whitehouse　Inn；　where　they　had　luncheon…the　miles　unrolled　under　the　fierce　sun　until；　late　the　afternoon；　a　stretch　of　good　straight　road　brought　them　among　the　spruce　little　villas；　each　with　its　patch　of　brownish　lawn；　its　bougainvillaea　and　its　single　bed　of　canna　lilies　and　crotons；　which　make　up　the　〃smart〃　suburbs　of　the　modes　little　coastal　township　that　is；　in　the　vernacular；　Sav'　La　Mar。
　Except　for　the　old　quarter　on　the　waterfront；　it　is　not　a　typically　Jamaican　town；　or　a　very　attractive　one。　The　villas；　built　for　the　senior　staff　of　the　Frome　sugar　estates；　are　drably　respectable；　and　the　small　straight　streets　smack　of　a　most　un…Jamaican　bout　of　town　planning　around　the　1920s。　Bond　stopped　at　the　first　garage；　took　in　petrol；　and　put　Mary　Goodnight　into　a　hired　car　for　the　return　trip。　He　had　told　her　nothing　of　his　assignment；　and　she　had　asked　no　questions　when　Bond　told　her　vaguely　that　it　was　〃something　to　do　with　Cuba。〃　Bond　said　he　would　keep　in　touch　when　he　could；　and　get　back　to　her　when　his　job　was　done；　and　then；　businesslike；　she　was　off　back　down　the　dusty　road　and　Bond　drove　slowly　down　to　the　waterfront。　He　identified　Love　Lane；　a　narrow　street　of　broken…down　shops　and　houses　that　meandered　back　into　the　town　from　the　jetty。　He　circled　the　area　to　get　the　neighbouring　geography　clear　in　his　mind　and　parked　the　car　in　a　deserted　area　near　the　spit　of　sand　on　which　fishing　canoes　were　drawn　up　on　raised　stilts。　He　locked　the　car　and　sauntered　back　and　into　Love　Lane。　There　were　a　few　people　about；　poor　people　of　the　fisherman　class。　Bond　bought　a　packet　of　Royal　Blend　at　a　small　general　store　that　smelled　of　spices。　He　asked　where　Number　three…and…a…half　was　and　got　a　look　of　polite　curiosity。　〃Further　up　de　street。　Mebbe　a　chain。　Big　house　on　de　right。〃　Bond　moved　over　to　the　shady　side　and　strolled　on。　He　slit　open　the　packet　with　his　thumbnail　and　lit　a　cigarette　to　help　the　picture　of　an　idle　tourist　examining　a　corner　of　old　Jamaica。　There　was　only　one　big　house　on　the　right。　He　took　some　time　lighting　the　cigarette　while　he　examined　it。
　It　must　once　have　had　importance；　perhaps　as　the　private　house　of　a　merchant。　It　was　of　two　storeys　with　balconies　running　all　the　way　round　and　it　was　wooden　built　with　silvering　shingles；　but　the　gingerbread　tracery　beneath　the　eaves　was　broken　in　many　places　and　there　was　hardly　a　scrap　of　paint　left　on　the　jalousies　that　closed　off　all　the　upstairs　windows　and　most　of　those　below。　The　patch　of　〃yard〃　bordering　the　street　was　inhabited　by　a　clutch　of　vulturine…necked　chickens　that　pecked　at　nothing　and　three　skeletal　Jamaican　black…and…tan　mongrels。　　They　gazed　lazily　across　the　street　at　Bond　and　scratched　and　bit　at　invisible　flies。　But；　in　the　background；　there　was　one　very　beautiful　lignum　vitae　tree　in　full　blue　blossom。　Bond　guessed　that　it　was　as　old　as　the　house…perhaps　fifty　years。　It　certainly　owned　the　property　by　right　of　strength　and　adornment。　In　its　delicious　black　shade　a　girl　in　a　rocking　chair　sat　reading　a　magazine。　At　the　range　of　about　thirty　yards　　she　looked　tidy　　and　pretty。　　Bond　strolled　up　the　opposite　side　of　the　street　until　a　corner　of　the　house　hid　the　girl。　Then　he　stopped　and　examined　the　house　more　closely。
　Wooden　steps　ran　up　to　an　open　front　door；　over　whose　lintel；　whereas　few　of　the　other　buildings　in　the　street　bore　numbers；　a　big　enamelled　metal　sign　announced　〃3…1/2〃　in　white　on　dark　blue。　Of　the　two　broad　windows　that　bracketed　the　door；　the　left…hand　one　was　shuttered；　but　the　right…hand　one　was　a　single　broad　sheet　of　rather　dusty　glass　through　which　tables　and　chairs　and　a　serving　counter　could　be　seen。　Over　the　door　a　swinging　sign　said　DREAMLAND　CAFE　in　sun…bleached　letters；　and　round　this　window　were　advertisements　for　Red　Stripe　beer；　Royal　Blend；　Four　Aces　cigarettes；　　and　Coca…Cola。　A　hand…painted　sign　said　SNAX　and；　underneath；　HOT　COCK　SOUP　FRESH　DAILY。
　Bond　walked　across　the　street　and　up　the　steps　and　parted　the　bead　curtain　that　hung　over　the　entrance。　He　walked　over　to　the　counter　and　was　inspecting　its　contents　…a　plate　of　dry…looking　ginger　cakes；　a　pile　of　packeted　banana　crisps；　and　some　jars…when　he　heard　quick　steps　outside。　The　girl　from　the　garden　came　in。　The　beads　clashed　softly　behind　her。　She　was　an　octoroon；　pretty；　as　in　Bond's　imagination　the　word　octoroon　suggested。　She　had　bold；　brown　eyes；　slightly　uptilted　at　the　corners；　beneath　a　fringe　of　silken　black　hair。　（Bond　reflected　that　there　would　be　Chinese　blood　somewhere　in　her　heredity。）　She　was　dressed　in　a　short　frock　of　shocking　pink　which　went　well　with　the　coffee　and　cream　of　her　skin。　Her　wrists　and　ankles　were　tiny。　She　smiled　politely。　The　eyes　flirted。　〃Evenin'。〃
　〃Good　evening。　Could　I　have　a　Red　Stripe？〃
　〃Sure。〃　She　went　behind　the　counter。　She　gave　him　a　quick　glimpse　of　fine　bosoms　as　she　bent　to　the　door　of　the　icebox…a　glimpse　not　dictated　by　the　geography　of　the　place。　She　nudged　the　door　shut　with　a　knee；　deftly　uncapped　the　bottle；　and　put　it　on　the　counter　beside　an　almost　clean　glass。　〃That'll　be　one　and　six。〃
　Bond　paid。　She　rang　the　money　into　the　cash　register。　Bond　drew　up　a　stool　to　the　counter　and　sat　down。　She　rested　her　arms　on　the　wooden　top　and　looked　across　at　him。　〃Passing　through？〃
　〃More　or　less。　I　saw　this　place　was　for　sale　in　yesterday's　Gleaner。　I　thought　I'd　take　a　l