if.goldfinger-第32节

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　Bond　ordered　a　slice　of　gruyere；　pumpernickel　and　coffee。　No；　she　was　an　enigma。　Bond　only　prayed　that　she　hadn't　got　some　private　plot　involving　either　him　or　Goldfinger　that　was　going　to　mess　up　his　own　operation。
　And　his　own　job　was　so　nearly　finished！　All　he　needed　was　the　evidence　of　his　own　eyes　that　the　story　he　had　woven　round　Goldfinger　and　the　Rolls　was　the　truth。　One　look　into　the　works　at　Coppet　…　one　grain　of　white　gold　dust　…　and　he　could　be　off　to　Berne　that　very　night　and　be　on　to　the　duty　officer　over　the　Embassy　scrambler。　Then；　quietly；　discreetly；　the　Bank　of　England　would　freeze　Goldfinger's　accounts　all　over　the　world　and　perhaps；　already　tomorrow；　the　Special　Branch　of　the　Swiss　police　would　be　knocking　on　the　door　of　Entreprises　Auric。　Extradition　would　follow；　Goldfinger　would　go　to　Brixton；　there　would　be　a　quiet；　rather　plicated　case　in　one　of　the　smuggling　courts　like　Maidstone　or　Lewes。　Goldfinger　would　get　a　few　years；　his　naturalization　would　be　revoked　and　his　gold　hoard；　illegally　exported；　would　trickle　back　into　the　vaults　below　the　Bank　of　England。　And　SMERSH　would　gnash　its　blood…stained　teeth　and　add　another　page　to　Bond's　bulging　zapiska。
　Time　to　go　for　the　last　lap。　Bond　paid　his　bill　and　went　out　and　got　into　his　car。　He　crossed　the　Rhone　and　motored　slowly　along　the　glittering　quai　through　the　evening　traffic。　It　was　an　average　night　for　his　purpose。　There　was　a　blazing　three…quarter　moon　to　see　by；　but　not　a　breath　of　wind　to　hide　his　approach　through　the　woods　to　the　factory。　Well；　there　was　no　hurry。　They　would　probably　be　workirig　through　the　night。　He　would　have　to　take　it　very　easily　and　carefully。　The　geography　of　the　place　and　the　route　he　had　plotted　for　himself　ran　before　Bond's　eyes　like　a　film　while　the　automatic　pilot　that　is　in　all　good　drivers　took　the　car　along　the　wide　white　highway　beside　the　sleeping　lake。
　Bond　followed　his　route　of　the　afternoon。　When　he　had　turned　off　the　main　road　he　drove　on　his　sidelights。　He　nosed　the　car　off　the　lane　into　a　clearing　in　the　woods　and　switched　off　the　engine。　He　sat　and　listened。　In　the　heavy　silence　there　was　only　a　soft　ticking　from　the　hot　metal　under　the　bonnet　and　the　hasty　trip　of　the　dashboard　clock。　Bond　got　out；　eased　the　door　shut　and　walked　softly　down　the　little　path　through　the　trees。
　Now　he　could　hear　the　soft　heavy　pant　of　the　generator　engine。。。　thumpah。。。　thumpah。。。　thumpah。　It　seemed　a　watchful；　rather　threatening　noise。　Bond　reached　the　gap　in　the　iron　bars；　slipped　through　and　stood；　straining　his　senses　forward　through　the　moon…dappled　trees。
　THUMPAH。。。　THUMPAH。。。　THUMPAH。　The　great　iron　puffs　were　on　top　of　him；　inside　his　brain。　Bond　felt　the　skin…crawling　tickle　at　the　groin　that　dates　from　one's　first　game　of　hide　and　seek　in　the　dark。　He　smiled　to　himself　at　the　animal　danger　signal。　What　primeval　chord　had　been　struck　by　this　innocent　noise　ing　out　of　the　tall　zinc　chimney？　The　breath　of　a　dinosaur　in　its　cave？　Bond　tightened　his　muscles　and　crept　forward　foot　by　foot；　moving　small　branches　carefully　out　of　his　way；　placing　each　step　as　cautiously　as　if　he　was　going　through　a　minefield。
　The　trees　were　thinning。　Soon　he　would　be　up　with　the　big　sheltering　trunk　he　had　used　before。　He　looked　for　it　and　then　stood　frozen；　his　pulse　racing。　Below　the　trunk　of　his　tree；　spreadeagled　on　the　ground；　was　a　body。
　Bond　opened　his　mouth　wide　and　breathed　slowly　in　and　out　to　release　the　tension。　Softly　he　wiped　his　sweating　palms　down　his　trousers。　He　dropped　slowly　to　his　hands　and　knees　and　stared　forward；　his　eyes　widened　like　camera　lenses。
　The　body　under　the　tree　moved；　shifted　cautiously　to　a　new　position。　A　breath　of　wind　whispered　in　the　tops　of　the　trees。　The　moonbeams　danced　quickly　across　the　body　and　then　were　still。　There　was　a　glimpse　of　thick　black　hair；　black　sweater；　narrow　black　slacks。　And　something　else　…　a　straight　gleam　of　metal　along　the　ground。　It　began　beneath　the　clump　of　black　hair　and　ran　past　the　trunk　of　the　trees　into　the　grass。
　Bond　slowly；　wearily　bent　his　head　and　looked　at　the　ground　between　his　spread　hands。　It　was　the　girl；　Tilly。　She　was　watching　the　buildings　below。　She　had　a　rifle　…　a　rifle　that　must　have　been　among　the　innocent　golf　clubs　…　ready　to　fire　on　them。　Damn　and　blast　the　silly　bitch！
　Bond　slowly　relaxed。　It　didn't　matter　who　she　was　or　what　she　was　up　to。　He　measured　the　distance；　planned　each　stride　…　the　trajectory　of　the　final　spring；　left　hand　to　her　neck；　right　to　the　gun。　Now！
　Bond's　chest　skidded　over　the　hump　of　the　buttocks　and　thudded　into　the　small　of　the　girl's　back。　The　impact　emptied　the　breath　out　of　her　with　a　soft　grunt。　The　fingers　of　Bond's　left　hand　flew　to　the　throat　and　found　the　carotid　artery。　His　right　hand　was　on　the　waist　of　the　rifle's　stock。　He　prised　the　fingers　away；　felt　that　the　safety　catch　was　on　and　reached　the　rifle　far　to　one　side。
　Bond　eased　the　weight　of　his　chest　off　the　girl's　back　and　moved　his　fingers　away　from　her　neck。　He　closed　them　softly　over　her　mouth。　Beneath　him；　he　felt　the　body　heave；　the　lungs　labouring　for　breath。　She　was　still　out。　Carefully　Bond　gathered　the　two　hands　behind　the　girl's　back　and　held　them　with　his　right。　Beneath　him　the　buttocks　began　to　squirm。　The　legs　jerked。　Bond　pinned　the　legs　to　the　ground　with　his　stomach　and　thighs；　noting　the　strong　muscles　bunched　under　him。　Now　the　breath　was　rasping　through　his　fingers。　Teeth　gnawed　at　his　hand。　Bond　inched　carefully　forwards　along　the　girl。　He　got　his　mouth　through　her　hair　to　her　ear。　He　whispered　urgently；　'Tilly；　for　Christ's　sake。　Stay　still！　This　is　me；　Bond。　I'm　a　friend。　This　is　vital。　Something　you　don't　know　about。　Will　you　stay　still　and　listen？'
　The　teeth　stopped　reaching　for　his　fingers。　The　body　relaxed　and　lay　soft　under　his。　After　a　time；　the　head　nodded　once。
　Bond　slid　off　her。　He　lay　beside　her；　still　holding　her　hands　prisoned　behind　her　back。　He　whispered；　'Get　your　breath。　But　tell　me；　were　you　after　Goldfinger？'
　The　pale　face　glanced　sideways　and　away。　The　girl　whispered　fiercely　into　the　ground；　'I　was　going　to　kill　him。'
　Some　girl　Goldfinger　had　put　in　the　family　way。　Bond　let　go　her　hands。　She　brought　them　up　and　rested　her　head　on　them。　Her　whole　body　shuddered　with　exhaustion　and　released　nerves。　The　shoulders　began　to　shake　softly。　Bond　reached　out　a　hand　and　smoothed　her　hair；　quietly；　rhythmically。　His　eyes　carefully　went　over　the　peaceful；　unchanged　scene　below。　Unchanged？　There　was　something。　The　radar　thing　on　the　cowl　of　the　chimney。　It　wasn't　going　round　any　more。　It　had　stopped　with　its　oblong　mouth　pointing　in　their　direction。　The　fact　had　no　significance　for　Bond。　Now　the　girl　wasn't　crying　any　more。　Bond　nuzzled　his　mouth　close　to　her　ear。　Her　hair　smelled　of　jasmine。　He　whispered；　TJon't　worry。　I'm　after　him　too。　And　I'm　going　to　damage　him　far　worse　than　you　could　have　done。　I've　been　sent　after　him　by　London。　They　want　him。　What　did　he　do　to　you？'
　She　whispered；　almost　to　herself；　'He　killed　my　sister。　You　knew　her　…　Jill　Masterton。'
　。Bond　said　fiercely；　'What　happened？'
　'He　has　a　woman　once　a　month。　Jill　told　me　this　when　she　first　took　the　job。　He　hypnotizes　them。　Then　he　…　he　paints　them　gold。'
　'Christ！　Why？'
　'I　don't　know。　Jill　told　me　he's　mad　about　gold。　I　suppose　he　sort　of　thinks　he's　…　that　he's　sort　of　possessing　gold。　You　know　…　marrying　it。　He　gets　some　Korean　servant　to　paint　them。　The　man　has　to　leave　their　backbones　unpainted。　Jill　couldn't　explain　that。　I　found　out　it's　so　they　wouldn't　die。　If　their　bodies　were　pletely　covered　with　gold　paint；　the　pores　of　the　skin　wouldn't　be　able　to　breathe。　Then　they'd　die。　Afterwards；　they're　washed　down　by　the　Korean　with　resin　or　something。　Goldfinger　gives　them　a　thousand　dollars　and　sends　them　away。
　Bond　saw　the　dreadful　Oddjob　with　his　pot　of　gold　paint；　Goldfinger's　eyes　gloating　over　the　glistening　statue；　the　fierce　possession。　'What　happened　to　Jill？'
　'She　cabled　me　to　e。　She　was　in　an　emergency　ward　in　a　hospital　in　Miami。　Goldfinger　had　thrown　her　out。　She　was　dying。　The　doctors　didn't　know　what　was　the　matter。　She　told　me　what　had　happened　to　her　…　what　he　had　done　to　her。　She　died　the　same　night。'　The　girl's　voice　was　dry　…　matter　of　fact。　'When　I　got　back　to　England　I　went　to　Train；　the　skin　specialist。　He　told　me　this　business　about　the　pores　of　the　skin。　It　had　happened　to　some　cabaret　girl　who　had　to　pose　as　a　silver　statue。　He　showed　me　details　of　the　case　and　the　autopsy。　Then　I　knew　what　had　happened　to　Jill。　Gold…finger　had　had　her　painted　all　over。　He　had　murdered　her。　It　must　have　been　out　of　revenge　for　…　for　going　with　you。'　There　was　a　pause。　The　girl　said　dully；　'She　told　me　about　you。　She　…　she　liked　you。　She　told　me　if　ever　I　met　you　I　was　to　give　you　this　ring。'
　Bond　closed　his　eyes　tight；　fighting　with　a　wave　of　mental　nausea。　More　death！　More　blood　on　his　hands。　This　time；　as　the　result　of　a　careless　gesture；　a　piece　of　bravado　that　had　led　to　twenty…four　hours　of　ecstasy　with　a　beautiful　girl　who　had　taken　his　fancy　and；　in　the　end；　rather　more　than　his　fancy。　And　this　petty　sideswipe　at　Goldfinger's　ego　had　been　returned　by　Goldfinger　a　thousand；　a　milli