if.liveandletdie-第14节

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　Tee…Hee　was　either　dead　or　dying。　He　lay　spread…eagled　on　his　back。　His　striped　tie　lay　across　his　face　like　a　squashed　adder。　Bond　felt　no　remorse。　He　frisked　the　body　for　a　gun　and　found　one　stuck　in　the　waistband　of　the　lavender　trousers；　now　stained　with　blood。　It　was　a　Colt　。38　Detective　Special　with　a　sawn　barrel。　All　chambers　were　loaded。　Bond　slipped　the　useless　Beretta　back　in　its　holster。　He　nestled　the　big　gun　into　his　palm　and　smiled　grimly。
　A　small　door　faced　him；　bolted　on　the　inside。　Bond　put　his　ear　to　it。　The　muffled　sound　of　an　engine　reached　him。　This　must　be　the　garage。　But　the　running　engine？　At　that　time　of　the　morning？　Bond　ground　his　teeth。　Of　course。　Mr。　Big　would　have　spoken　on　the　inter　and　warned　them　that　Tee…Hee　was　bringing　him　down。　They　must　be　wondering　what　was　holding　him。　They　were　probably　watching　the　door　for　the　negro　to　emerge。
　Bond　thought　for　a　moment。　He　had　the　advantage　of　surprise。　If　only　the　bolts　were　well…oiled。
　His　left　hand　was　almost　useless。　With　the　Colt　in　his　right；　he'　tested　the　first　bolt　with　the　edge　of　his　damaged　hand。　It　slipped　easily　back。　So　did　the　second。　There　remained　only　a　press…down　handle。　He　eased　it　down　and　pulled　the　door　softly　towards　him。
　It　was　a　thick　door　and　the　noise　of　the　engine　got　louder　as　the　crack　widened。　The　car　must　be　just　outside。　Any　further　movement　of　the　door　would　betray　him。　He　whipped　it　open　and　stood　facing　sideways　like　a　fencer　so　as　to　offer　as　small　a　target　as　possible。　The　hammer　lay　back　on　his　gun。
　A　few　feet　away　stood　a　black　sedan；　its　engine　running。　It　faced　the　open　double　doors　of　the　garage。　Bright　arc…lights　lit　up　the　shining　bodywork　of　several　other　cars。　There　was　a　big　negro　at　the　wheel　of　the　sedan　and　another　stood　near　him；　leaning　against　the　rear　door。　No　one　else　was　in　view。
　At　sight　of　Bond　the　negroes'　mouths　fell　open　in　astonishment。　A　cigarette　dropped　from　the　mouth　of　the　man　at　the　wheel。　Then　they　both　dived　for　their　guns。
　Instinctively；　Bond　shot　first　at　the　man　standing；　knowing　he　would　be　quickest　on　the　draw。
　The　heavy　gun　roared　hollowly　in　the　garage。
　The　negro　clutched　his　stomach　with　both　hands；　staggered　two　steps　towards　Bond；　and　collapsed　on　his　face；　his　gun　clattering　on　to　the　concrete。
　The　man　at　the　wheel　screamed　as　Bond's　gun　swung　on　to　him。　Hampered　by　the　wheel　the　negro's　shooting　hand　was　still　inside　his　coat。
　Bond　shot　straight　into　the　screaming　mouth　and　the　man's　head　crashed　against　the　side　window。
　Bond　ran　round　the　car　and　opened　the　door。　The　negro　sprawled　horribly　out。　Bond　threw　his　revolver　on　to　the　driving…seat　and　yanked　the　body　out　on　to　the　ground。　He　tried　to　avoid　the　blood。　He　got　into　the　seat　and　blessed　the　running　engine　and　the　steering…wheel　gear…lever。　He　slammed　the　door；　rested　his　injured　hand　on　the　left　of　the　wheel　and　crashed　the　lever　forward。
　The　hand…brake　was　still　on。　He　had　to　lean　under　the　wheel　to　release　it　with　his　right　hand。
　It　was　a　dangerous　pause。　As　the　heavy　car　surged　forward　out　of　the　wide　doors　there　was　the　boom　of　a　gun　and　a　bullet　hammered　into　the　bodywork。　He　tore　the　wheel　round　right…handed　and　there　was　another　shot　that　missed　high。　Across　the　street　a　window　splintered。
　The　flash　came　from　low　down　near　the　floor　and　Bond　guessed　that　the　first　negro　had　somehow　managed　to　reach　his　gun。
　There　were　no　other　shots　and　no　sound　came　from　the　blank　faces　of　the　buildings　behind　him。　As　he　went　through　the　gears　he　could　see　nothing　in　the　driving…mirror　except　the　broad　bar　of　light　from　the　garage　shining　out　across　the　dark　empty　street。
　Bond　had　no　idea　where　he　was　or　where　he　was　heading。　It　was　a　wide　featureless　street　and　he　kept　going。　He　found　himself　driving　on　the　left…hand　side　and　quickly　swerved　over　to　the　right。　His　hand　hurt　terribly　but　the　thumb　and　forefinger　helped　to　steady　the　wheel。　He　tried　to　remember　to　keep　his　left　side　away　from　the　blood　on　the　door　and　window。　The　endless　street　was　populated　only　by　the　little　ghosts　of　steam　that　wavered　up　out　of　the　gratings　in　the　asphalt　that　gave　access　to　the　piped　heat　system　of　the　city。　The　ugly　bonnet　of　the　car　mowed　them　down　one　by　one；　but　in　the　driving…mirror　Bond　could　see　them　rising　again　behind　him　in　a　diminishing　vista　of　mildly　gesticulating　white　wraiths。
　He　kept　the　big　car　at　fifty。　He　came　to　some　red　traffic　lights　and　jumped　them。　Several　more　dark　blocks　and　then　there　was　a　lighted　avenue。　There　was　traffic　and　he　paused　until　the　lights　went　green。　He　turned　left　and　was　rewarded　by　a　succession　of　green　lights；　each　one　sweeping　him　on　and　further　away　from　the　enemy。　He　checked　at　an　intersection　and　read　the　signs。　He　was　on　Park　Avenue　and　116th　Street。　He　slowed　again　at　the　next　street。　It　was　115th。　He　was　heading　downtown；　away　from　Harlem；　back　into　the　City。　He　kept　going。　He　turned　off　at　Goth　Street。　It　was　deserted。　He　switched　off　the　engine　and　left　the　car　opposite　a　fire　hydrant。　He　took　the　gun　off　the　seat；　shoved　it　down　the　waistband　of　his　trousers　and　walked　back　to　Park　Avenue。
　A　few　minutes　later　he　flagged　a　prowling　cab　and　then　suddenly　he　was　walking　up　the　steps　of　the　St。　Regis。
　'Message　for　you；　Mr。　Bond；'　said　the　night　porter。　Bond　kept　his　left　side　away　from　him。　He　opened　the　message　with　his　right　hand。　It　was　from　Felix　Leiter；　timed　at　four　a。m。　'Call　me　at　once；'　it　said。
　Bond　walked　to　the　elevator　and　was　carried　up　to　his　floor。　He　let　himself　into　21：00　and　went　through　into　the　sitting…room。
　So　both　of　them　were　alive。　Bond　fell　into　a　chair　beside　the　telephone。
　'God　Almighty；'　said　Bond　with　deep　gratitude。　'What　a　break。'
　
　CHAPTER　IX
　TRUE　OR　FALSE？
　
　BOND　looked　at　the　telephone；　then　he　got　up　and　walked　over　to　the　sideboard。　He　put　a　handful　of　wilted　icecubes　into　a　tall　glass；　poured　in　three　inches　of　Haig　and　Haig　and　swilled　the　mixture　round　in　the　glass　to　cool　and　dilute　it。　Then　he　drank　down　half　the　glass　in　one　long　swallow。　He　put　the　glass　down　and　eased　himself　out　of　his　coat。　His　left　hand　was　so　swollen　that　he　could　only　just　get　it　through　the　sleeve。　His　little　finger　was　still　crooked　back　and　the　pain　was　vicious　as　it　scraped　against　the　cloth。　The　ringer　was　nearly　black。　He　pulled　down　his　tie　and　undid　the　top　of　his　shirt。　Then　he　picked　up　his　glass；　took　another　deep　swallow；　and　walked　back　to　the　telephone。
　Leiter　answered　at　once。
　'Thank　God；'　said　Leiter　with　real　feeling。　'What's　the　damage？〃
　'Broken　finger；'　said　Bond。　'How　about　you？'
　'Blackjack。　Knocked　out。　Nothing　serious。　They　started　off　by　considering　all　sorts　of　ingenious　things。　Wanted　to　couple　me　to　the　pressed…air　pump　in　the　garage。　Start　on　the　ears　and　then　proceed　elsewhere。　When　no　instructions　came　from　The　Big　Man　they　got　bored　and　I　got　to　arguing　the　finer　points　of　Jazz　with　Blabbermouth；　the　man　with　the　fancy　six…shooter。　We　got　on　to　Duke　Ellington　and　agreed　that　we　liked　our　band…leaders　to　be　percussion　men；　not　wind。　We　agreed　the　piano　or　the　drums　held　the　band　together　better　than　any　other　solo　instrument　…　Jelly…roll　Morton；　for　instance。　Apropos　the　Duke；　I　told　him　the　crack　about　the　clarinet　…　〃an　ill　woodwind　that　nobody　blows　good〃。　That　made　him　laugh　fit　to　bust。　Suddenly　we　were　friends。　The　other　man　…　The　Flannel；　he　was　called　…　got　sour　and　Blabbermouth　told　him　he　could　go　off　duty；　he'd　look　after　me。　Then　The　Big　Man　rang　down。'
　'I　was　there；'　said　Bond。　'It　didn't　sound　so　hot。'
　'Blabbermouth　was　worried　as　hell。　He　wandered　round　the　room　talking　to　himself。　Suddenly　he　used　the　blackjack；　hard；　and　I　went　out。　Next　thing　I　knew　we　were　outside　Bellevue　Hospital。　About　half　after　three。　Blabbermouth　was　very　apologetic；　said　it　was　the　least　he　could　have　done。　I　believe　him。　He　begged　me　not　to　give　him　away。　Said　he　was　going　to　report　that　he'd　left　me　half　dead。　Of　course　I　promised　to　leak　back　some　very　lurid　details。　We　parted　on　the　best　of　terms。　I　got　some　treatment　at　the　Emergency　ward　and　came　home。　I　was　worried　to　Hell　an'　gone　about　you；　but　after　a　while　the　telephone　started　ringing。　Police　and　FBI。　Seems　The　Big　Man　has　plained　that　some　fool　Limey　went　berserk　at　The　Boneyard　early　this　morning；　shot　three　of　his　men　…　two　chauffeurs　and　a　waiter；　if　you　please　…　stole　one　of　his　cars　and　got　away；　leaving　his　overcoat　and　hat　in　the　cloakroom。　The　Big　Man's　yelling　for　action。　Of　course　I　warned　off　the　dicks　and　the　FBI；　but　they're　madder'n　hell　and　we've　got　to　get　out　of　town　at　once。　It'll　miss　the　mornings　but　it'll　be　splashed　all　over　the　afternoon　blatts　and　Radio　and　TV'll　have　it。　Apart　from　all　that；　Mr。　Big　will　be　after　you　like　a　nest　of　hornets。　Anyway；　I've　got　some　plans　fixed。　Now　you　tell；　and　God；　am　I　glad　to　hear　your　voice！'
　Bond　gave　a　detailed　account　of　all　that　had　happened。　He　forgot　nothing。　When　he　had　finished；　Leiter　gave　a　low　whistle。
　'Boy；'　he　said　with　admiration。　'You　certainly　made　a　dent　in　The　Big　Man's　machine。　But　were　you　lucky。　That　Solitaire　dame　certainly　seems　to　have　saved　your　bacon。　D'you　think　we　can　use　her？'
　'Could　if　we　could