if.liveandletdie-第12部分

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　'Lights；'　said　a　voice；　quietly。
　At　the　same　time　both　his　arms　were　gripped。　He　was　pressed　down　in　his　chair。
　Opposite　him；　still　at　the　table；　sat　Leiter；　a　huge　negro　grasping　his　elbows。　They　were　in　a　tiny　square　cell。　To　right　and　left　were　two　more　negroes　in　plain　clothes　with　guns　trained　on　them。
　There　was　the　sharp　hiss　of　a　hydraulic　garage　lift　and　the　table　settled　quietly　to　the　floor。　Bond　glanced　up。　There　was　the　faint　join　of　a　broad　trap…door　a　few　feet　above　their　heads。　No　sound　came　through　it。
　One　of　the　negroes　grinned。
　'Take　it　easy；　folks。　Enjoy　da　ride？'
　Leiter　let　out　one　single　harsh　obscenity。　Bond　relaxed　his　muscles；　waiting。
　'Which　is　da　Limey？'　asked　the　negro　who　had　spoken。　He　seemed　to　be　in　charge。　The　pistol　he　held　trained　lazily　on　Bond's　heart　was　very　fancy。　There　was　a　glint　of　mother…of…pearl　between　his　black　fingers　on　the　stock　and　the　long　octagonal　barrel　was　finely　chased。
　'Dis　one；　Ah　guess；'　said　the　negro　who　was　holding　Bond's　arm。　'He　got　da　scar。'
　The　negro's　grip　on　Bond's　arm　was　terrific。　It　was　as　if　he　had　two　fierce　tourniquets　applied　above　the　elbows。　His　hands　were　beginning　to　go　numb。
　The　man　with　the　fancy　gun　came　round　the　corner　of　the　table。　He　shoved　the　muzzle　of　his　gun　into　Bond's　stomach。　The　hammer　was　back。
　'You　oughtn't　to　miss　at　that　range；'　said　Bond。
　'Shaddap；'　said　the　negro。　He　frisked　Bond　expertly　with　his　left　hand　…　legs；　thighs；　back；　sides。　He　dug　out　Bond's　gun　and　handed　it　to　the　other　armed　man。
　'Give　dat　to　da　Boss；　Tee…Hee；'　he　said。　'Take　da　Limey　up。　Yuh　go　'long　wid　em。　Da　other　guy　stays　wid　me。'
　'Yassuh；'　said　the　man　called　Tee…Hee；　a　paunchy　negro　in　a　chocolate　shirt　and　lavender…coloured　peg…top　trousers。
　Bond　was　hauled　to　his　feet。　He　had　one　foot　hooked　under　a　leg　of　the　table。　He　yanked　hard。　There　was　a　crash　of　glass　and　silverware。　At　the　same　moment；　Leiter　kicked　out　backwards　round　the　leg　of　his　chair。　There　was　a　satisfactory　'klonk'　as　his　heel　caught　his　guard's　shin。　Bond　did　the　same　but　missed。　There　was　a　moment　of　chaos；　but　neither　of　the　guards　slackened　his　grip。　Leiter's　guard　picked　him　bodily　out　of　the　chair　as　if　he　had　been　a　child；　faced　him　to　the　wall　and　slammed　him　into　it。　It　nearly　smashed　Leiter's　nose。　The　guard　swung　him　round。　Blood　was　streaming　down　over　his　mouth。
　The　two　guns　were　still　trained　unwaveringly　on　them。　It　had　been　a　futile　effort；　but　for　a　split　second　they　had　regained　the　initiative　and　effaced　the　sudden　shock　of　capture。
　'Don'　waste　yo　breff；'　said　the　negro　who　had　been　giving　the　orders。　'Take　da　Limey　away。'　He　addressed　Bond's　guard。　'Mr。　Big's　waiten'。'　He　turned　to　Leiter。
　'Yo　kin　tell　yo　fren'　goodbye；'　he　said。　'Yo　is　unlikely　be　seein'　yoselves　agin。'
　Bond　smiled　at　Leiter。　'Lucky　we　made　a　date　for　the　police　to　meet　us　here　at　two；'　he　said。　'See　you　at　the　lineup。'
　Leiter　grinned　back。　His　teeth　were　red　with　blood。　'missioner　Monahan's　going　to　be　pleased　with　this　bunch。　Be　seeing　you。'
　'Crap；'　said　the　negro　with　conviction。　'Get　goin'。'
　Bond's　guard　whipped　him　round　and　shoved　him　against　a　section　of　the　wall。　It　opened　on　a　pivot　into　a　long　bare　passage。　The　man　called　Tee…Hee　pushed　past　them　and　led　the　way。
　The　door　swung　to　behind　them。
　
　CHAPTER　VII
　MISTER　BIG
　
　THEIR　footsteps　echoed　down　the　stone　passage。　At　the　end　there　was　a　door。　They　went　through　into　another　long　passage　lit　by　an　occasional　bare　bulb　in　the　roof。　Another　door　and　they　found　themselves　in　a　large　warehouse。　Cases　and　bales　were　stacked　in　neat　piles。　There　were　runways　for　overhead　cranes。　From　the　markings　on　the　crates　it　seemed　to　be　a　liquor　store。　They　followed　an　aisle　across　to　an　iron　door。　The　man　called　Tee…Hee　rang　a　bell。　There　was　absolute　silence。　Bond　guessed　they　must　have　walked　at　least　a　block　away　from　the　night　club。
　There　was　a　clang　of　bolts　and　the　door　opened。　A　negro　in　evening　dress　with　a　gun　in　his　hand　stepped　aside　and　they　went　through　into　a　carpeted　hallway。
　'Yo　kin　go　on　in；　Tee…Hee；'　said　the　man　in　evening　dress。
　Tee…Hee　knocked　on　a　door　facing　them；　opened　it　and　led　the　way　through。
　In　a　high…backed　chair；　behind　an　expensive　desk；　Mr。　Big　sat　looking　quietly　at　them。
　'Good　morning；　Mister　James　Bond。'　The　voice　was　deep　and　soft。　'Sit　down。'
　Bond's　guard　led　him　across　the　thick　carpet　to　a　low　armchair　in　leather　and　tubular　steel。　He　released　Bond's　arms　and　Bond　sat　down　and　faced　The　Big　Man　across　the　wide　desk。
　'It　was　a　blessed　relief　to　be　rid　of　the　two　vice…like　hands。　All　sensation　had　left　Bond's　forearms。　He　let　them　hang　beside　him　and　weled　the　dull　pain　as　the　blood　started　to　flow　again。
　Mr。　Big　sat　looking　at　him；　his　huge　head　resting　against　the　back　of　the　tall　chair。　He　said　nothing。
　Bond　at　once　realized　that　the　photographs　had　conveyed　nothing　of　this　man；　nothing　of　the　power　and　the　intellect　which　seemed　to　radiate　from　him；　nothing　of　the　over…size　features。
　It　was　a　great　football　of　a　head；　twice　the　normal　size　and　very　nearly　round。　The　skin　was　grey…black；　taut　and　shining　like　the　face　of　a　week…old　corpse　in　the　river。　It　was　hairless；　except　for　some　grey…brown　fluff　above　the　ears。　There　were　no　eyebrows　and　no　eyelashes　and　the　eyes　were　extraordinarily　far　apart　so　that　one　could　not　focus　on　them　both；　but　only　on　one　at　a　time。　Their　gaze　was　very　steady　and　penetrating。　When　they　rested　on　something；　they　seemed　to　devour　it；　to　enpass　the　whole　of　it。　They　bulged　slightly　and　the　irises　were　golden　round　black　pupils　which　were　now　wide。　They　were　animal　eyes；　not　human；　and　they　seemed　to　blaze。
　The　nose　was　wide　without　being　particularly　negroid。　The　nostrils　did　not　gape　at　you。　The　lips　were　only　slightly　everted；　but　thick　and　dark。　They　opened　only　when　the　man　spoke　and　then　they　opened　wide　and　drew　back　from　the　teeth　and　the　pale　pink　gums。
　There　were　few　wrinkles　or　creases　on　the　face；　but　there　were　two　deep　clefts　above　the　nose；　the　clefts　of　concentration。　Above　them　the　forehead　bulged　slightly　before　merging　with　the　polished；　hairless　crown。
　Curiously；　there　was　nothing　disproportionate　about　the　monstrous　head。　It　was　carried　on　a　wide；　short　neck　supported　by　the　shoulders　of　a　giant。　Bond　knew　from　the　records　that　he　was　six　and　a　half　foot　tall　and　weighed　twenty　stone；　and　that　little　of　it　was　fat。　But　the　total　impression　was　awe…inspiring；　even　terrifying；　and　Bond　could　imagine　that　so　ghastly　a　misfit　must　have　been　bent　since　childhood　on　revenge　against　fate　and　against　the　world　that　hated　because　it　feared　him。
　The　Big　Man　was　draped　in　a　dinner…jacket。　There　was　a　hint　of　vanity　in　the　diamonds　that　blazed　on　his　shirt…front　and　at　his　cuffs。　His　huge　flat　hands　rested　half…curled　on　the　table　in　front　of　him。　There　were　no　signs　of　cigarettes　or　an　ash…tray　and　the　smell　of　the　room　was　neutral。　There　was　nothing　on　the　desk　save　a　large　inter　with　about　twenty　switches　and；　incongruously；　a　very　small　ivory　riding…crop　with　a　long　thin　white　lash。
　Mr。　Big　gazed　with　silent　and　deep　concentration　across　the　table　at　Bond。
　After　inspecting　him　carefully　in　return；　Bond　glanced　round　the　room。
　It　was　full　of　books；　spacious　and　restful　and　very　quiet；　like　the　library　of　a　millionaire。
　There　was　one　high　window　above　Mr。　Big's　head　but　otherwise　the　walls　were　solid　with　bookshelves。　Bond　turned　round　in　his　chair。　More　bookshelves；　packed　with　books。　There　was　no　sign　of　a　door；　but　there　might　have　been　any　number　of　doors　faced　with　dummy　books。　The　two　negroes　who　had　brought　him　to　the　room　stood　rather　uneasily　against　the　wall　behind　his　chair。　The　whites　of　their　eyes　showed。　They　were　not　looking　at　Mr。　Big；　but　at　a　curious　effigy　which　stood　on　a　table　in　an　open　space　of　floor　to　the　right；　and　slightly　behind　Mr。　Big。
　Even　with　his　slight　knowledge　of　Voodoo；　Bond　recognized　it　at　once　from　Leigh　Fermor's　description。
　A　five…foot　white　wooden　cross　stood　on　a　raised　white　pedestal。　The　arms　of　the　cross　were　thrust　into　the　sleeves　of　a　dusty　black　frock…coat　whose　tails　hung　down　behind　the　t