if.liveandletdie-第23节

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t　had　been　smoothed　away　and　all　of　that　close　contact　with　the　machine　and　the　road　that　extracts　skill　and　nerve　from　the　European　driver。　To　Bond；　American　cars　were　just　beetle…shaped　Dodgems　in　which　you　motored　along　with　one　hand　on　the　wheel；　the　ladio　full　on；　and　the　power…operated　windows　closed　to　keep　out　the　draughts。
　But　Leiter　had　got　hold　of　an　old　Cord；　one　of　the　few　American　cars　with　a　personality；　and　it　cheered　Bond　to　climb　into　the　low…hung　saloon；　to　hear　the　solid　bite　of　the　gears　and　the　masculine　tone　of　the　wide　exhaust。　Fifteen　years　old；　he　reflected；　yet　still　one　of　the　most　modern…looking　cars　in　the　world。
　They　swung　on　to　the　causeway　and　across　the　wide　expanse　of　unrippled　water　that　separates　the　twenty　miles　of　narrow　island　from　the　broad　peninsula　sprawling　with　St。　Petersburg　and　its　suburbs。
　Already　as　they　idled　up　Central　Avenue　on　their　way　across　the　town　to　the　Yacht　Basin　and　the　main　harbour　and　the　big　hotels；　Bond　caught　a　whiff　of　the　atmosphere　that　makes　the　town　the　'Old　Folks　Home'　of　America。　Everyone　on　the　sidewalks　had　white　hair；　white　or　blue；　and　the　famous　Sidewalk　Davenports　that　Solitaire　had　described　were　thick　with　oldsters　sitting　in　rows　like　the　starlings　in　Trafalgar　Square。
　Bond　noted　the　small　grudging　mouths　of　the　women；　the　sun　gleaming　on　their　pince…nez；　the　stringy；　collapsed　chests　and　arms　of　the　men　displayed　to　the　sunshine　in　Truman　shirts。　The　fluffy；　sparse　balls　of　hair　on　the　women　showing　the　pink　scalp。　The　bony　bald　heads　of　the　men。　And；　everywhere；　a　prattling　camaraderie；　a　swapping　of　news　and　gossip；　a　making　of　folksy　dates　for　the　shuffle　board　and　the　bridge…table；　a　handing　round　of　letters　from　children　and　grandchildren；　a　tut…tutting　about　prices　in　the　shops　and　the　motels。
　You　didn't　have　to　be　amongst　them　to　hear　it　all。　It　was　all　in　the　nodding　and　twittering　of　the　balls　of　blue　fluff；　the　back…slapping　and　hawk…an…spitting　of　the　little　old　baldheads。
　'It　makes　you　want　to　climb　right　into　the　tomb　and　pull　the　lid　down；'　said　Leiter　at　Bond's　exclamations　of　horror。　'You　wait　till　we　get　out　and　walk。　If　they　see　your　shadow　ing　up　the　sidewalk　behind　them　they　jump　out　of　the　way　as　if　you　were　the　Chief　Cashier　ing　to　look　over　their　shoulders　in　the　bank。　It's　ghastly。　Makes　me　think　of　the　bank　clerk　who　went　home　unexpectedly　at　midday　and　found　the　President　of　the　bank　sleeping　with　his　wife。　He　went　back　and　told　his　pals　in　the　ledger　department　and　said；　〃Gosh；　fellers；　he　nearly　caught　me！〃　'
　Bond　laughed。
　'You　can　hear　all　the　presentation　gold　watches　ticking　in　their　pockets；'　said　Leiter。　'Place　is　full　of　undertakers；　and　pawnshops　stuffed　with　gold　watches　and　masonic　rings　and　bits　of　jet　and　lockets　full　of　hair。　Makes　you　shiver　to　think　of　it　all。　Wait　till　you　go　to　〃Aunt　Milly's　Place〃　and　see　them　all　in　droves　mumbling　over　their　corn…beef　hash　and　cheeseburgers；　trying　to　keep　alive　till　ninety。　It'll　frighten　the　life　out　of　you。　But　they're　not　all　old　down　here。　Take　a　look　at　that　ad　over　there。'　He　pointed　towards　a　big　hoarding　on　a　deserted　lot。
　It　was　an　advertisement　for　maternity　clothes。　'STUTZ　HEIMER　&　BLOCK；'　it　Said；　'IT'S　NEW！　OUR　ANTICIPATION　　　DEPARTMENT；　AND　AFTER！　CLOTHES　FOR　CHIPS　（1…4）　AND　TWIGS　（4…8）。'
　Bond　groaned。　'Let's　get　away　from　here；'　he　said。　'This　is　really　beyond　the　call　of　duty。'
　They　came　down　to　the　waterfront　and　turned　right　until　they　came　to　the　seaplane　base　and　the　coastguard　station。　The　streets　were　free　of　oldsters　and　here　there　was　the　normal　life　of　a　harbour　…　wharves；　warehouses；　a　ship's　chandler；　some　up…turned　boats；　nets　drying；　the　cry　of　seagulls；　the。　rather　fetid　smell　ing　in　off　the　bay。　After　the　teeming　boneyard　of　the　town　the　sign　over　the　garage：　'Drive…ur…Self。　Pat　Grady。　The　Smiling　Irishman。　Used　cars；'　was　a　cheerful　reminder　of　a　livelier；　bustling　world。
　'Better　get　out　and　walk；'　said　Leiter。　'The　Robber's　place　is　in　the　next　block。'
　They　left　the　car　beside　the　harbour　and　sauntered　along　past　a　timber　warehouse　and　some　oil…storage　tanks。　Then　they　turned　left　again　towards　the　sea。
　The　side…road　ended　at　a　small　weather…beaten　wooden　jetty　that　reached　out　twenty　feet　on　barnacled　piles　into　the　bay。　Right　up　against　its　open　gate　was　a　long　low　corrugated…iron　warehouse。　Over　its　wide　double　doors　was　painted；　black　on　white；　'Ourobouros　Inc。　Live　Worm　and　Bait　Merchants。　Coral；　Shells；　Tropical　Fish。　Wholesale　only。'　In　one　of　the　double　doors　there　was　a　smaller　door　with　a　gleaming　Yale　lock。　On　the　door　was　a　sign：　'Private。　Keep　Out。'
　Against　this　a　man　sat　on　a　kitchen　chair；　its　back　tilted　so　that　the　door　supported　his　weight。　He　was　cleaning　a　rifle；　a　Remington　30　it　looked　like　to　Bond。　He　had　a　wooden　toothpick　sticking　out　of　his　mouth　and　a　battered　baseball　cap　on　the　back　of　his　head。　He　was　wearing　a　stained　white　singlet　that　revealed　tufts　of　black　hair　under　his　arms；　and　slept…in　white　canvas　trousers　and　rubber…soled　sneakers。　He　was　around　forty　and　his　face　was　as　knotted　and　seamed　as　the　mooring　posts　on　the　jetty。　It　was　a　thin；　hatchet　face；　and　the　lips　were　thin　too；　and　bloodless。　His　plexion　was　the　colour　of　tobacco　dust；　a　sort　of　yellowy…beige。　He　looked　cruel　and　cold；　like　the　bad　man　in　a　film　about　poker…players　and　gold　mines。
　Bond　and　Leiter　walked　past　him　and　on　to　the　pier。　He　didn't　look　up　from　his　rifle　as　they　went　past　but　Bond　sensed　that　his　eyes　were　following　them。
　'If　that　isn't　The　Robber；'　said　Leiter；　Ht's　a　blood　relation。'
　A　pelican；　grey　with　a　pale　yellow　head；　was　hunched　on　one　of　the　mooring　posts　at　the　end　of　the　jetty。　He　let　them　get　very　close；　then　reluctantly　gave　a　few　heavy　beats　of　his　wings　and　planed　down　towards　the　water。　The　two　men　stood　and　watched　him　flying　slowly　along　just　above　the　surface　of　the　harbour。　Suddenly　he　crashed　clumsily　down；　his　long　bill　snaking　out　and　down　in　front　of　him。　It　came　up　clutching　a　small　fish　which　he　moodily　swallowed。　Then　the　heavy　bird　got　up　again　and　went　on　fishing；　flying　mostly　into　the　sun　so　that　its　big　shadow　would　give　no　warning。　When　Bond　and　Leiter　turned　to　walk　back　down　the　jetty　it　gave　up　fishing　and　glided　back　to　its　post。　It　settled　with　a　clatter　of　wings　and　resumed　its　thoughtful　consideration　of　the　late　afternoon。
　The　man　was　still　bent　over　his　gun；　wiping　the　mechanism　with　an　oily　rag。
　'Good　afternoon；'　said　Leiter。　'You　the　manager　of　this　wharf？'
　'Yep；'　said　the　man　without　looking　up。
　'Wondered　if　there　was　any　chance　of　mooring　my　boat　here。　Basin's　pretty　crowded。'
　'Nope。'
　Leiter　took　out　his　notecase。　'Would　twenty　talk？'
　'Nope。'　The　man　gave　a　rattling　hawk　in　his　throat　and　spat　directly　between　Bond　and　Leiter。
　'Hey；'　said　Leiter。　'You　want　to　watch　your　manners。'
　The　man　deliberated。　He　looked　up　at　Leiter。　He　had　small；　close…set　eyes　as　cruel　as　a　painless　dentist's。　x　'What's　a　name　of　your　boat？'
　'The　Sybil；'　said　Leiter。
　'Ain't　no　sich　boat　in　the　Basin；'　said　the　man。　He　clicked　the　breech　shut　on　his　rifle。　It　lay　casually　on　his　lap　pointing　down　the　approach　to　the　warehouse；　away　from　the　sea。
　'You're　blind；'　said　Leiter。　'Been　there　a　week。　Sixty…foot　twin…screw　Diesel。　White　with　a　green　awning。　Rigged　for　fishing。'
　The　rifle　started　to　move　lazilv　in　a　low　arc。　The　man's　left　hand　was　at　the　trigger；　his　right　just　in　front　of　the　trigger…guard；　pivoting　the　gun。
　They　stood　still。
　The　man　sat　lazily　looking　down　at　the　breech；　his　chair　still　tilted　against　the　small　door　with　the　yellow　Yale　lock。
　The　gun　slowly　traversed　Leiter's　stomach；　then　Bond's。　The　two　men　stood　like　statues；　not　risking　a　move　of　the　hand。　The　gun　stopped　pivoting。　It　was　pointing　down　the　wharf。　The　Robber　looked　briefly　up；　narrowed　his　eyes　and　pulled　the　trigger。　The　pelican　gave　a　fault　squawk　and　they　heard　its　heavy　body　crash　into　the　water。　The　echo　of　the　shot　boomed　across　the　harbour。
　'What　the　hell　d'you　do　that　for？'　asked　Bond　furiously。
　'Practice；'　said　the　man；　pumping　another　bullet　into　the　breech。
　'Guess　there's　a　branch　of　the　ASPCA　in　this　town；'　said　Leiter。　'Let's　get　along　there　and　report　this　guy。'
　'Want　to　be　prosecuted　for　trespass？'　asked　The　Robber；　getting　slowly　up　and　shifting　the　gun　under　his　arm。　'This　is　private　property。　Now；'　he　spat　the　words　out；　'git　the　hell　out　of　here。'　He　turned　and　yanked　the　chair　away　from　the　door；　opened　the　door　with　a　key　and　turned　with　one　foot　on　the　threshold。　'You　both　got　guns；'　he　said。　'I　kin　smell　'em。　You　e　aroun'　here　again　and　you　follow　the　boid　'n　I　plead　self…defence。　I've　had　a　bellyful　of　you　lousy　dicks　aroun'　here　lately　breathin'　down　my　neck。　Sybil　my　ass！'　He　turned　contemptuously　through　the　door　and　slammed　it　so　that　the　frame　rattled。
　They　looked　at　each　other。　Leiter　grinned　ruefully　and　shrugged　his　shoulders。
　'Round　One　to　The　Robber；'　he　said。
　They　moved　off　down　the　dusty　sideroad。　The　sun　was　setting　and　the　sea　behind　them　was　a　pool　of　blood。　When　they　got　to　the　main　road；　Bond　looked　back。　A　big　arc　light　had　e　on　over　the　door　and　the　approach　to