if.liveandletdie-第2部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


h　the　rear　window　he　had　caught　a　glimpse　of　the　single　passenger　…　a　huge　grey…black　face　which　had　turned　slowly　towards　him　and　looked　directly　back　at　him；　Bond　was　sure　of　it；　as　the　car　accelerated　towards　the　Avenue。
　Bond　shook　Halloran　by　the　hand。　Dexter　touched　his　elbow　impatiently。
　'We'll　go　straight　in　and　through　the　lobby　to　the　elevators。　Half…right　across　the　lobby。　And　would　you　please　keep　your　hat　on；　Mr。　Bond。'
　As　Bond　followed　Dexter　up　the　steps　into　the　hotel　he　reflected　that　it　was　almost　certainly　too　late　for　these　precautions。　Hardly　anywhere　in　the　world　will　you　find　a　negress　driving　a　car。　A　negress　acting　as　a　chauffeur　is　still　more　extraordinary。　Barely　conceivable　even　in　Harlem；　but　that　was　certainly　where　the　car　was　from。
　And　the　giant　shape　in　the　back　seat？　That　grey…black　face？　Mister　Big？
　'Hm；'　said　Bond　to　himself　as　he　followed　the　slim　back　of　Captain　Dexter　into　the　elevator。
　The　elevator　slowed　up　for　the　twenty…first　floor。
　'We've　got　a　little　surprise　ready　for　you；　Mr。　Bond；'　said　Captain　Dexter；　without；　Bond　thought；　much　enthusiasm。
　They　walked　down　the　corridor　to　the　corner　room。
　The　wind　sighed　outside　the　passage　windows　and　Bond　had　a　fleeting　view　of　the　tops　of　other　skyscrapers　and；　beyond；　the　stark　fingers　of　the　trees　in　Central　Park。　He　felt　far　out　of　touch　with　the　ground　and　for　a　moment　a　strange　feeling　of　loneliness　and　empty　space　gripped　his　heart。
　Dexter　unlocked　the　door　of　No。　2100　and　shut　it　behind　them。　They　were　in　a　small　lighted　lobby。　They　left　their　hats　and　coats　on　a　chair　and　Dexter　opened　the　door　in　front　of　them　and　held　it　for　Bond　to　go　through。
　He　walked　into　an　attractive　sitting…room　decorated　in　Third　Avenue　'Empire'　…　fortable　chairs　and　a　broad　sofa　in　pale　yellow　silk；　a　fair　copy　of　an　Aubusson　on　the　floor；　pale　grey　walls　and　ceiling；　a　bow…fronted　French　sideboard　with　bottles　and　glasses　and　a　plated　ice…bucket；　a　wide　window　through　which　the　winter　sun　poured　out　of　a　Swiss…clear　sky。　The　central　heating　was　just　bearable。
　The　municating　door　with　the　bedroom　opened。
　'Arranging　the　flowers　by　your　bed。　Part　of　the　famous　CIA　〃Service　With　a　Smile〃。'　The　tall　thin　young　man　came　forward　with　a　wide　grin；　his　hand　outstretched；　to　where　Bond　stood　rooted　with　astonishment。
　'Felix　Leiter！　What　the　hell　are　you　doing　here？'　Bond　grasped　the　hard　hand　and　shook　it　warmly。　'And　what　the　hell　are　you　doing　in　my　bedroom；　anyway？　God！　it's　good　to　see　you。　Why　aren't　you　in　Paris？　Don't　tell　me　they've　put　you　on　this　job？'
　Leiter　examined　the　Englishman　affectionately。
　'You've　said　it。　That's　just　exactly　what　they　have　done。　What　a　break！　At　least；　it　is　for　me。　CIA　thought　we　did　all　right　together　on　the　Casino　job1　so　they　hauled　me　away　from　the　Joint　Intelligence　chaps　in　Paris；　put　me　through　the　works　in　Washington　and　here　I　am。　I'm　sort　of　liaison　between　the　Central　Intelligence　Agency　and　our　friends　of　the　FBI。'　He　waved　towards　Captain　Dexter；　who　was　watching　this　unprofessional　ebullience　without　enthusiasm。　'It's　their　case；　of　course；　at　least　the　American　end　of　it　is；　but　as　you　know　there　are　some　big　overseas　angles　which　are　CIA's　territory；　so　we're　running　it　joint。　Now　you're　here　to　handle　the　Jamaican　end　for　the　British　and　the　team's　plete。　How　does　it　look　to　you？　Sit　down　and　let's　have　a　drink。　I　ordered　lunch　directly　I　got　the　word　you　were　downstairs　and　it'll　be　on　its　way。'　He　went　over　to　the　sideboard　and　started　mixing　a　Martini。
　'Well；　I'm　damned；'　said　Bond。　'Of　course　that　old　devil　M　never　told　me。　He　just　gives　one　the　facts。　Never　tells　one　any　good　news。　I　suppose　he　thinks　it　might　influence　one's　decision　to　take　a　case　or　not。　Anyway；　it's　grand。'
　Bond　suddenly　felt　the　silence　of　Captain　Dexter。　He　turned　to　him。
　'I　shall　be　very　glad　to　be　under　your　orders　here；　Captain；'　he　said　tactfully。　'As　I　understand　it；　the　case　breaks　pretty　neatly　into　two　halves。　The　first　half　lies　wholly　on　American　territory。　Your　jurisdiction；　of　course。　Then　it　looks　as　if　we　shall　have　to　follow　it　into　the　Caribbean。　Jamaica。　And　I　understand　I　am　to　take　over　outside　United　States　territorial　waters。　Felix　here　will　marry　up　the　two　halves　so　far　as　your　government　is　concerned。　I　shall　report　to　London　through　CIA　while　I'm　here；　and　direct　to　London；　keeping　CIA　informed；　when　I　move　to　the　Caribbean。　Is　that　how　you　see　it？'
　Dexter　smiled　thinly。　'That's　just　about　it；　Mr。　Bond。　Mr。　Hoover　instructs　me　to　say　that　he's　very　pleased　to　have　you　along。　As　our　guest；'　he　added。　'Naturally　we　are　not　in　any　way　concerned　with　the　British　end　of　the　case　and　we're　very　happy　that　CIA　will　be　handling　that　with　you　and　your　people　in　London。　Guess　everything　should　go　fine。　Here's　luck；'　and　he　lifted　the　cocktail　Leiter　had　put　into　his　hand。
　They　drank　the　cold　hard　drink　appreciatively；　Leiter　with　a　faintly　quizzical　expression　on　his　hawk…like　face。
　There　was　a　knock　on　the　door。　Leiter　opened　it　to　let　in　the　bellboy　with　Bond's　suitcases。　He　was　followed　by　two　waiters　pushing　trolleys　loaded　with　covered　dishes；　cutlery　and　snow…white　linen；　which　they　proceeded　to　lay　out　on　a　folding　table。
　'Soft…shell　crabs　with　tartare　sauce；　flat　beef　Hamburgers；　medium…rare；　from　the　charcoal　grill；　french…fried　potatoes；　broccoli；　mixed　salad　with　thousand…island　dressing；　icecream　with　melted　butterscotch　and　as　good　a　Liebfraumilch　as　you　can　get　in　America。　Okay？'
　〃It　sounds　fine；'　said　Bond　with　a　mental　reservation　about　the　melted　butterscotch。
　They　sat　down　and　ate　steadily　through　each　delicious　course　of　American　cooking　at　its　rare　best。
　They　said　little；　and　it　was　only　when　the　coffee　had　been　brought　and　the　table　cleared　away　that　Captain　Dexter　took　the　fifty…cent　cigar　from　his　mouth　and　cleared　his　throat　decisively。
　'Mr。　Bond；'　he　said；　'now　perhaps　you　would　tell　us　what　you　know　about　this　case。'
　Bond　slit　open　a　fresh　pack　of　King　Size　Chesterfields　with　his　thumb…nail　and；　as　he　settled　back　in　his　fortable　chair　in　the　warm　luxurious　room；　his　mind　went　back　two　weeks　to　the　bitter　raw　day　in　early　January　when　he　had　walked　out　of　his　Chelsea　flat　into　the　dreary　half…light　of　a　London　fog。
　
　CHAPTER　II
　INTERVIEW　WITH　M
　
　THE　grey　Bentley　convertible；　the　1933　4　1/2…litre　with　the　Amherst…Villiers　supercharger；　had　been　brought　round　a　few　minutes　earlier　from　the　garage　where　he　kept　it　and　the　engine　had　kicked　directly　he　pressed　the　self…starter。　He　had　turned　on　the　twin　fog　lights　and　had　driven　gingerly　along　King's　Road　and　then　up　Sloane　Street　into　Hyde　Park。
　M's　Chief　of　Staff　had　telephoned　at　midnight　to　say　that　M　wanted　to　see　Bond　at　nine　the　next　morning。　'Bit　early　in　the　day；'　he　had　apologized；　'but　he　seems　to　want　some　action　from　somebody。　Been　brooding　for　weeks。　Suppose　he's　made　up　his　mind　at　last。'
　'Any　line　you　can　give　me　over　the　telephone？'
　'A　for　Apple　and　C　for　Charlie；'　said　the　Chief　of　Staff；　and　rang　off。
　That　meant　that　the　case　concerned　Stations　A　and　C；　the　sections　of　the　Secret　Service　dealing　respectively　with　the　United　States　and　the　Caribbean。　Bond　had　worked　for　a　time　under　Station　A　during　the　war；　but　he　knew　little　of　C　or　its　problems。
　As　he　crawled　beside　the　kerb　up　through　Hyde　Park；　the　slow　drumbeat　of　his　two…inch　exhaust　keeping　him　pany；　he　felt　excited　at　the　prospect　of　his　interview　with　M；　the　remarkable　man　who　was　then；　and　still　is；　head　of　the　Secret　Service。　He　had　not　looked　into　those　cold；　shrewd　eyes　since　the　end　of　the　summer。　On　that　occasion　M　had　been　pleased。
　'Take　some　leave；'　he　had　said。　'Plenty　of　leave。　Then　get　some　new　skin　grafted　over　the　back　of　that　hand。　〃Q〃　will　put　you　on　to　the　best　man　and　fix　a　date。　Can't　have　you　going　round　with　that　damn　Russian　trade…mark　on　you。　See　if　I　can　find　you　a　good　target　when　you've　got　cleaned　up。　Good　kick。'
　The　hand　had　been　fixed；　painlessly　but　slowly。　The　thin　scars；　the　single　Russian　letter　which　stands　for　SCH；　the　first　letter　of　Spion；　a　spy；　had　been　removed　and　as　Bond　thought　of　the　man　with　the　stiletto　who　had　cut　the