johngardner.winloseordie-第15部分

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〃Is　good。〃
　She　was　standing　close　to　him。　and　even　in　the　chill　of　this　winter　day　he　could　smell　the　sunshine　on　her。　A　sweetness　that　seemed　to　have　been　trapped　in　the　strong　hot　weeks　of　summer；　mingled　with　a　scent　he　could　not　identify。
　He　turned　and　walked　back；　pausing　by　the　steps　to　look　at　this　incredible　wonder　which　lay　behind　the　villa。
At　one　time；　the　local　people　had　thought　the　Signora　…　who；　as　Beatrice　had　said；　was　now　in　Milan　…　was　mad。　Widow　of　a　great　artist　she　had　bought　this　land：　barren　rock。　She　had　arranged　for　some　of　it　to　be　blasted　away；　shaping　it　into　a　kind　of　amphitheatre。　Hard　against　the　side　of　the　rock　she　had　then　built　a　large　villa　which　looked　like　a　grey　buttressed　fortress。　The　four　small　villas　which　she　rented　out　in　the　summer　were　converted　from　old　structures；　once　shepherds'　huts　and　barns。　But　her　greatest　achievement　had　been　the　garden　which　was　reflected　in　some　of　（he　pictures　back　in　the　Villa　Capricci…
an。
　She　had　gathered　together　men　who　loved　growing　things；　as　she　did。　and；　with　immense　toil　and　frustralion　had　built　this　incredible；　beautiful　place　full　of　cyprus；　palm；　mountain　flowers；　（lowering　shrubs　and　bushes；　shaded　walks；　ponds　and　fountains；　water　tricks　which　would　hurl　liquid　into　great　archways　over　paths；　or　imitate　a　mountain　stream　pouring　endlessly　from　bare　rock　into　a　blue　pool　from　whence　it　was　recycled　to　create　the　illusion　of　constant　moving　water。　The　ponds　were　peopled　by　small　turtles　and　goldfish；　and　even　in　winter　there　was　colour　from　hardy　plants。　All　year　round　there　was　some　form　of　natural　colour；　and　the　beauly　of　ihis　place　stayed　in　Bond's　memory。　Once　seen；　the　garden　lived　with　you；　as　though　it　had　been　implanted　in　your　mind　through　some　magic　of　its　own　creation；
　He　looked　up　along　the　stone　…encrusted　ridge　at　the　far　end　of　the　great　scooped　rock；　and　allowed　his　eyes　to　trace　their　way　along　the　zig…zag　of　paths　and　walks；　the　trees　and　bushes　bent；　growing　at　angles　determined　by　the　harsh　winds　of　winter。　Indeed；　this　was　a　work　of　great　love　and　dedication。　The　local　people　had　long　since　e　to　understand　that　the　Signora　should　be　treated　with　awe　and　reverence。
　'Is　a　great　genius；　the　Signora；'　Beatrice　said；　as　though　speaking　of　a　saint。
'An　amazing　lady。'　Bond　smiled　at　her。　standing　to　one　side　to　allow　the　girl　to　descend　first；　as　he　looked　down　at　the　rear　terrace。　Since　the　moment　they　had　met　by　the　pool　he　had　been　careful　to　keep　Beatrice　in　view。　Even　when　she　had　e　close　to　him　on　the　open；　covered　roof…lop；　he　had　made　sure　his　body　had　always　been　turned　towards　her　with　one　hand　braced；　stiff　and　tense；　to　be　used　as　a　cutting　edge　should　she　make　a　wrong　move。　For　alt　he　knew；　the　effervescent　Beatrice　could　well　be　the　Cat；　Saphii　Boudai；　or　at　least　one　of　her　messengers。
　Once　back　in　the　house；　she　said　she　would　light　the　stove。　？It　will　bee　cold　tonight；　and　I　do　not　wish　an　invalid　on　my　hands。'　She　gave　him　a　sideways　glance　as　though　to　imply　that　she　would　not　mind　him　on　her　hands　it〃　he　were　fit　and　willing。
　Bond　merely　smiled　and　said　he　would　go　down　to　the　car　and　get　his　luggage。　'Have　you　（he　keys？'　he　asked。　'I　should　lock　the　gates。'
　'Of　course。　They　are　in　the　kitchen。　In　their　usual　place。'　A　pause　of　four　or　five　heartbeats；　then；　'Everything　is　in　the　kitchen　as　you　expect。'　Another　pause；　slightly　shorter。　'Everything；　Signor　Bond；〃
　'Call　me　James；'　he　Ihrew　back　over　his　shoulder。　If　she　was　on　（he　side　of　the　devils　and　not　the　angels；　it　would　be　best　to　meet　her　on　Christian　name　terms。　They　said　that　knowing　the　name　of　devil　or　angel　always　put　you　at　the　advantage。
　The　bunch　of　seven　or　eight　keys　lay　on　the　free…standing　kitchen　unit。　They　were　attached　to　a　penlight　key…ring　and　looked　as　though　（hey　had　just　been　tossed　onto　the　work…top；　even　though　the　smallest　key　stuck　out　separately　and　was　aligned　with　the　edge　of　the　unit。　He　picked　the　whole　lot　up　by　the　small　key。　inserting　it　into　the　lock　on　the　drawer　just　below　the　point　where　the　bunch　had　been　lying。　It　turned　easily。
　Inside　the　drawer　lay　one　9mm　Browning　automatic　and　three　spare　ammunition　clips。　The　action　moved　slickly；　well　oiled；　and　showed　there　was　a　round　in　the　chamber。　Later　he　would　strip　the　weapon　down　and　go　through　it　piece　by　piece。　'There'll　be　a　pistol　in　the　locked　kitchen　drawer；'　M　had　said。　Had　Beatrice　put　it　there？　Or　had　she　merely　been　inquisitive　and　found　the　secrel？
　Bond　hefted　the　pistol　in　his　hand。　The　weight　seemed　right　for　a　fully　loaded　weapon。　The　spare　magazines　also　appeared　to　be　correct；　but　he　knew　weapons　and　ammunition　could　easily　be　doctored　to　feel　right。　If　that　happened；　then　the　last　thing　you　ever　knew　was　that　someone　had　been　clever；　spiked　the　firing…pin；　mechanism；　or　even　the　rounds。
For　the　time　being　he　simply　had　to　trust；　slipping　the　spare　magazines　into　the　pockets　of　his　windcheater；　pulling　the　Browning's　safety　to　'on'；　ami　pushing　it　into　his　waistband；　far　to　the　left　so　that　it　was　hidden；　then　pulling　the　butt　down　so　that　the　muzzle　was　screwed　lo　the　left。　This　was　always　advisable。　Movie　cops　and　agents　so　often　jammed　a　pistol　straight　into　the　waistband；　risking　a　shot　foot；　or　worse　…　'testicide'　as　one　leathery　weapons　instructor　had　called　it。
　He　locked　the　drawer　again　and　went　out　of　the　kitchen　door；　which　contained　a　glass　panel。　On　his　way　down；　he　went　through　the　whole　catastrophe　of　the　Villa　Capricciani's　security。　The　main　gates；　and　the　gate　at　the　foot　of　the　steps；　could　be　taken　out　quickly　enough；　either　by　sealing；　or　the　use　of　a　lock…gun。　The　pair　of　sliding　doors　which　led　from　the　villa　to　the　front　terrace　would　be　a　noisy　job；　but　could　be　acplished　quickly。　The　kitchen　door　was　simplicity；　particularly　with　the　one　pane　of　glass；　while　the　rear　french　windows　offered　easy　access　using　a　jemmy。　Ninety　seconds　at　the　most　for　any　of　them；　he　reckoned　as　he　secured　the　bolts　on　the　main　gate；　and　look　his　heavy　case　from　the　car。
　He　locked　the　second　gate　behind　him　and　went　up　the　stairs　and　in　through　the　main　sliding　doors。　Beatrice　was　standing　by　the　telephone；　checking　the　meter　which　would　monitor　all　outgoing　calls。　She　looked　up　and　gave　him　her　cheeky　smile；　reading　off　the　numbers　and　asking　him　to　agree　them。
　'Now；　I　show　you　what　food　is　here。'　Another　smile　as　she　led　him　towards　the　kitchen。　'You　found　all　you　needed？'　Over　her　shoulder　with　eye…contact　and　the　same　smile。
Bond　nodded。　She　loves　me？　She　loves　me　not？
　She　opened　the　refrigerator　with　a　flourish；　and　began　to　reel　off　all　the　provisions　she　had　bought。　Chicken；　veal；　eggs；　butter；　cheese；　milk；　three　bottles　of　wine；　bacon；　sausage；　pate；　pasta。　In　the　other　small　fridge　set　into　the　opposite　units　of　cupboards　and　drawers　there　were　vegetables。
'Is　enough　until　tomorrow？'
'Only　if　I've　got　an　army　staying　overnight。'
　'Tomorrow　is　last　proper　shopping　before　Nutate。'　Tomorrow　was　Saturday　and　Christmas　Eve。
　'Yes。'　Bond　mused。　〃Christmas　is　a'ing　and　the　goose　is　getting　fat　。　。　。'
'You　wish　for　goose？'
　He　shook　his　head。　'Old　English　children's　rhyme。　No；　Beatrice；　I　don't　know　how　I'll　celebrate　Christmas…　Nalale。'
'In　England　you　have　snow；　yes？'
　'Usually　only　on　the　Christmas　cards。　We　gather　the　whole　family　together；　give　each　other　unsuitable　gifts；　and　eat　ourselves　stupid。　Turkey；　as　a　rule。　I　do　not　like　turkey。'　He　looked　at　her　hard　and　asked　how　she　would　be　spending　Christmas。
　'At　the　big　villa。　On　my　own。　1　told　you。　I　am　in　charge。　Umberto　and　Franco；　two　of　the　gardeners；　will　e　in　to　see　all　is　well；　and　maybe　one　of　the　young　girls　we　have　to　help　when　the　villas　are　all　occupied；　or　the　Signora　is　at　home；　will　call　to　see　me。'
　'Well；　I'll　probably　drive　into　Forio　and　buy　some　kind　of　special　feast　we　can　share。　How　about　that？'　If　she　were　a　devil；　then　at　least　he　would　know　where　she　was；　if　an　angel；　it　would　not　matter。
'This　is　good；　Signor　Bond　…　James。　This　I　would　like。'
　'Okay。'　He　found　the　dark　eyes　disconcerting；　For　they　locked　onto　his　like　radar。
　'Now　I　must　go　back　to　the　house。　The　big　villa。　La　Signora；　she　tele