johngardner.rollofhonor-第11部分

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of　his　many　contacts　with　unfriendly　agencies　and　uncertain　governments。　　He　was　wealthy；　smooth；　sharp；　intelligent；　and　slippery　as　an　eel。　　The　flag　on　the　file；　Bond　remembered；　was　ciphered　Possible　clandestine。　　Probably　subversive。
　Once　these　facts　had　settled　in　his　mind；　Bond　pushed　the　Mulsanne　to　its　limit。　　All　he　wanted　to　do　was　to　get　back　to　England；　report　to　M；　and　try　to　move　in　on　Jay　Autem　Holy。　　The　task　was　more　inviting　than　ever；　now　he　knew　both　something　of　the　doctor's　work；　and　the　fact　that　Zwingli　was　alive；　well；　and　…　unless　he　was　mistaken　working　hand　in　glove　with　a　highly　suspect　international　character。
　On　the　A26　Autoroute　to　Calais；　Bond　found　himself　singing　aloud。
　Perhaps　after　the　enforced　idleness；　the　lack　of　excitement；　the　intrigues　of　M's　plan　to　use　him　as　bait；　he　was　at　last　starting　to　feel　the　fire　of　action　in　his　belly　once　more。
　〃Rolling　home；'　he　sang；　remembering　far…off　days　when　he　would　literally　roll　home；　with　brother　officers；　〃Rolling　home；　By　the　light　of　the　silvery　moon；　I　have　twopence　to　lend；　And　twopence　to　spend；　And　twopence　to　send　home　to　His　voice　trailed　off。　　He　could　not　bring　himself　to　sing　the　last　line；　about　sending　money　home　to　his　wife。
　For　the　ghost　of　his　own　dead　wife；　Tracy；　still　haunted　him；　even　though　he　now　missed　Percy　Proud's　clear　mind　and　agile；　beautiful　body。　Weakness；　he　chided　himself。
　He　was　trained　as　a　loner；　one　who　acted　without　others；　one　who　relied　on　himself。　　Yet　he　did　miss　her。　　Undeniably；　there　were　moments　when　he　thought　he　could　still　smell　her　scent　and　feel　the　touch　of　her　skin。　　Pull　yourself　together；　he　told　himself。
　Among　the　bills　and　circulars　awaiting　Bond　at　his　flat　was　a　letter　from　a　firm　of　business　consultants　demanding　special　attention。
　Embedded　in　this　seemingly　innocuous　letter　was　a　series　of　telephone　numbers　…　one　for　each　day　of　the　week　…　that　he　could　ring　in　order　to　set　up　a　meeting　with　M　at　the　safe　flat　near　St。　Martin's　Lane。
　The　date　arranged　turned　out　to　be　a　truly　glorious　spring　evening。　Summer　was　around　the　corner；　and　you　could　almost　feel　it；　even　in　the　heart　of　the　capital。
　〃Well；　007；　the　woman's　taught　you　all　the　tricks　of　the　trade；　eh？〃
　〃Some　of　them；　sir。　　But　I　really　wanted　to　talk　to　you　about　a　new　development。〃　Without　wasting　words　or　time；　he　gave　a　summary　of　the　final　hours　in　Monaco；　and　the　sighting　of　Zwingli　with　Tamil　Rahani。　Bond　had　hardly　got　Rahani'　s　name　out　before　M　ordered　the　Chief…of…Staff　to　check。
　〃There's　a　spot　and　report　order　on　that　joker。〃　Tanner　returned　in　ten　minutes。　　〃Last　report　of　a　visit　to　Milan。　　Seen　by　our　resident　there；　who　had　a　weather　eye　on　him。　　Rahani　appeared　to　be　on　his　usual　round　of　business　meetings。〃　The　Chief…of…Staff　gave　a　somewhat　dejected　shrug。　　〃Unhappily；　sir；　nobody　spotted　him　leaving；　though　his　airline　ticket　showed　a　return　booking　to　New　York　yesterday。　　He　was　not　on　the　flight。〃
　〃And　I　suppose　nobody's　seen　hide　nor　hair　of　him　since。〃　M　nodded　in　reply　like　a　buddha。　　〃Except　007；　in　Monaco。〃
　〃Well；　he　was　in　the　Casino；'　said　Bond；　〃with　General　Zwingli　and　four　others。〃　M　looked　at　him　in　silence　for　a　long　time。
　〃Incredible；'　he　said　at　last；　as　though　someone　had　hit　him　in　the　face。　　〃Incredible　that　Zwingli's　still　alive；　let　alone　mixed　up　with　Rahani。　　Wonder　where　he　fits　into　all　this。
　You'll　just　have　to　be　alert　to　Rahani's　possible　involvement　Home　mentHe's　always　been　a　bit　of　an　unknown　quantity；　so　we'll　inform　those　who　need　to　know。　　You　see；　we　re　ready　to　put　you　in。　　Now；　here's　what　I　want　you　to　do。　　First；　your　old　acquaintance　Freddie　Fortune　has。
　James　Bond　groaned　loudly。
　For　the　next　week；　he　was　to　be　seen　around　his　old　London　haunts。
　He　confided　in　one　or　two　people　that　his　feelings　of　disillusion　had　bee　considerably　worse。
　He　had　been　in　Monte　Carlo　where　things　had　run　true　to　the　old　adage：　lucky　at　cards；　unlucky　in　love　…　except　it　had　been　roulette；　not　cards。
　Carefully；　he　laid　a　trail　among　people　most　likely　to　talk；　or　those　whose　connections　were　right　for　some　salting。　　Then；　on　the　Thursday　evening；　in　the　bar　of　one　of　Mayfair's　plush　clubs；　as　if　by　accident；　he　bumped　into　Lady　Freddie　Fortune；　the　extravagant；　pamphlet　wagging　socialite　he　always　called　his　〃champagne　munist'。
　She　was　a　vivacious；　petite　redhead；　〃Red　Freddie'；　some　called　her　pletely　untrustworthy；　and　always　in　the　gossip　columns；　either　campaigning　for　some　outrageous　cause　or　involved　in　sexual　scandal。
　Freddie　was　discreet　only　when　it　suited　her。　　That　night；　Bond　dropped　a　hint　that　he　was　looking　for　work　in　the　puter　field。　　He　also　poured　out　all　his　troubles　…　an　affair　in　Monte　Carlo　that　had　ended　disastrously；　leaving　him　bitter　and　wretched。
　Lady　Freddie　was　thrilled　to　see　this　man；　once　a　model　of　good　form；　bee　so　emotional　and　she　whipped　Bond　off　to　her　bed；　allowing　him　to　cry　on　her　shoulder　…　metaphorically；　of　course。　　During　the　night；　trying　to　keep　up　the　pretence　of　having　drunk　too　much　yet　still　able　to　enjoy　himself；　Bond　longed　for　Percy　and　the　special　smell　and　feel　of　her。
　The　next　morning　he　feigned　a　hangover　and　morose；　even　waspish；　manner。　But　none　of　this　put　Freddie　Fortune　off　As　he　was　leaving　she　told　him　that　she　had　some　friends　who　may　be　of　use　to　him；　if　he　really　meant　to　find　a　job　in　puter　programming。
　〃Here。〃　She　tucked　a　small　business　card　into　his　breast　pocket。
　〃It's　a　nice　little　hotel。　　If　you　can　make　it　on　Saturday；　I'll　be　there。　　Only；　for　heaven's　sake；　don't　let　on　I've　told　you。　　I　leave　it　to　you；James；　but　if　you　do　decide　to　e；　be　surprised　to　see　me。
　Okay？〃　On　the　following　Saturday　morning；　with　a　weekend　case　and　all　the　puter　equipment　in　the　boot；　James　Bond　drove　the　Bentley　out　of　London　on　the　Oxford　road。　　Within　the　hour　he　had　turned　off　and　was　threading　through　country　lanes　on　his　way　to　the　village　of　Nun's　Cross；　near　Banbury。
　
　THE　BULL
　
　BANBURY　CROSS　is　not　an　antiquity；　but　was　erected　in　the　late　1850s　to　memorate　the　marriage　of　the　Princess　Royal　to　the　Crown　Prince　of　Prussia。　　There　was　of　course　a　much　earlier　cross　three　to　be　exact　but　the　present　Victorian　Gothic　monstrosity　was　placed　where　it　is　today　because　a　local　historian　believed　this　to　be　the　site　of　the　ancient　High　Cross。　　Three　miles　to　the　north　of　Banbury；　nestling　by　a　wooded　hill；　is　the　village　of　Nun's　Cross；　and　there　is　no　cross　on　view　there　at　all。
　Bond　guided　the　Mulsanne　Turbo　through　the　narrow　main　street　of　Nun's　Cross；　and　into　the　yard　of　the　coaching　inn　which　rejoices　in　the　name　of　The　Bull　at　the　Cross。　　Taking　his　overnight　case　from　the　boot；　he　considered　the　inn　was　probably　the　only　going　concern　in　the　village。　A　beautiful　Georgian　building；　lovingly　kept；　and　neatly　modernised；　The　Bull　even　offered　gourmet　weekends　for　the　discriminating'。
　From　the　porter　who　took　his　case；　Bond　learned　that；　as　far　as　the　hotel　was　concerned；　it　was　going　to　be　a　very　quiet　weekend；　though　they　had　been　full　the　previous　one。
　Bond　unpacked；　changed　into　grey　slacks；　an　open　necked　shirt　topped　by　a　navy　pullover　and　his　most　fortable　moccasins。　　He　was　not　armed。　The　ASP　9mm　lay　fortably　clipped　into　its　hidden　partment　in　the　Bentley。　　Yet　he　remained　alert　as　he　went　down；　through　the　old　coach　yard　and　into　the　village　street。　　His　eyes　were　searching　for　a　dark　blue　Jaguar　XJ6　or　a　grey　Mercedes…Benz　saloon。
　The　licence　numbers　had　been　mitted　to　memory；　for　both　cars　had　appeared　in　his　mirror；　exchanging　places　with　monotonous　regularity　ever　since　he　had　taken　to　the　road　that　morning。
　He　was　under　no　illusion。　　For　the　first　time　since　he　had　assumed　the　mantle　of　a　disaffected　former　member　of　the　Secret　Service；　he　was　being　followed；　almost　blatantly；　as　though　the　tail　wished　to　be　seen。
　It　was　too　early　for　a　lunchtime　drink。　　Bond　decided　to　look　round　this　village　which；　if　everything　added　up；　harboured　a　sophisticated　villain　who　was　possibly　also　a　traitor。
　The　Bull　at　the　Cross　lay　almost　on　the　crossroads　at　the　centre　of　the　old　village；　which　contained　a　hodgepodge　of　m