if.goldfinger-第44节

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il　in　the　cruiser　for　Kronstadt。　Everything　has　been　carefully　planned；　every　possible　hitch　has　been　foreseen。　I　have　lived　with　this　operation　for　five　years。　Now　the　time　has　e　for　the　performance。　I　have　tidied　up　my　activities　in　England　and　Europe。　Such　small　debris　as　remains　of　my　former　life　can　go　to　the　scavengers　who　will　shortly　be　sniffing　on　my　trail。　I　shall　be　gone。　I　shall　have　emigrated　and；　Mr　Bond；　I　shall　have　taken　the　golden　heart　of　America　with　me。　Naturally'　…　Goldfinger　was　indulgent　…'this　unique　performance　will　not　be　immaculate。　There　has　not　been　enough　time　for　rehearsals。　I　need　these　clumsy　gangsters　with　their　guns　and　their　men；　but　I　could　not　bring　them　into　the　plan　until　the　last　moment。　They　will　make　mistakes。　Conceivably　they　will　have　much　trouble　getting　their　own　loot　away。　Some　will　be　caught；　others　killed。　I　couldn't　care　less。　These　men　are　amateurs　who　were　needed；　so　to　speak；　for　the　crowd　scenes。　They　are　extras；　Mr　Bond；　brought　in　off　the　streets。　What　happens　to　them　after　the　play　is　of　no　interest　to　me　whatsoever。　And　now；　on　with　the　work。　I　shall　need　seven　copies　of　all　this　by　nightfall。　Where　were　we。。。？'
　So　in　fact；　reflected　Bond　feverishly；　this　was　not　only　a　Goldfinger　operation　with　SMERSH　in　the　background。　SMERSH　had　even　got　the　High　Praesidium　to　play。　This　was　Russia　versus　America　with　Goldfinger　as　the　spearhead！　Was　it　an　act　of　war　to　steal　something　from　another　country？　But　who　would　know　that　Russia　had　the　gold？　No　one；　if　the　plan　went　off　as　Goldfinger　intended。　None　of　the　gangsters　had　an　inkling。　To　them　Goldfinger　was　just　another　of　them；　another　gangster；　slightly　larger　than　life…size。　And　Goldfinger's　staff；　his　drivers　for　the　golden　convoy　to　the　coast？　Bond　himself；　and　Tilly　Masterton？　Some　would　be　killed；　including　him　and　the　girl。　Some；　the　Koreans　for　instance；　would　no　doubt　sail　in　the　cruiser。　Not　a　trace　would　be　left；　not　a　witness。　It　was　modern　piracy　with　all　the　old…time　trimmings。　Goldfinger　was　sacking　Fort　Knox　as　Bloody　Morgan　had　saked　Panama。　There　。was　no　difference　except　that　the　weapons　and　the　techniques　had　been　brought　up　to　date。
　And　there　was　only　one　man　in　the　whole　world　who　could　stop　it。　But　how？
　The　next　day　was　an　unending　blizzard　of　paper…work。　Every　half…hour　a　note　would　e　in　from　Goldfinger's　operations　room　asking　for　schedules　of　this；　copies　of　that；　estimates；　timetables；　lists　of　stores。　Another　typewriter　was　brought　in；　maps；　reference　books　…　anything　that　Bond　re　quisitioned。　But　not　once　did　Oddjob　relax　the　extreme　care　with　which　he　opened　the　door　to　Bond's　knock；　not　once　did　his　watchful　eyes　wander　from　Bond's　eyes；　hands；　feet　when　he　came　into　the　room　to　bring　meals　or　notes　or　supplies。　There　was　no　question　of　Bond　and　the　girl　being　part　of　the　team。　They　were　dangerous　slaves　and　nothing　else。
　Tilly　Masterton　was　equally　reserved。　She　worked　like　a　machine　…　quick；　willing；　accurate；　but　unmunicative。　She　responded　with　cool　politeness　to　Bond's　early　attempts　to　make　friends；　share　his　thoughts　with　her。　By　the　evening；　he　had　learnt　nothing　about　her　except　that　she　had　been　a　successful　amateur　ice…skater　in　between　secretarial　work　for　Unilevers。　Then　she　had　started　getting　star　parts　in　ice…shows。　Her　hobby　had　been　indoor　pistol　and　rifle　shooting　and　she　had　belonged　to　two　marksman　clubs。　She　had　few　friends。　She　had　never　been　in　love　or　engaged。　She　lived　by　herself　in　two　rooms　in　Earls　Court。　She　was　twenty…four。　Yes；　she　realized　that　they　were　in　a　bad　fix。　But　something　would　turn　up。　This　Fort　Knox　business　was　nonsense。　It　would　certainly　go　wrong。　She　thought　Miss　Pussy　Galore　was　'divine'。　She　somehow　seemed　to　count　on　her　to　get　her　out　of　this　mess。　Women；　with　a　sniff；　were　rather　good　at　things　that　needed　finesse。　Instinct　told　them　what　to　do。　Bond　was　not　to　worry　about　her。　She　would　be　all　right。
　Bond　came　to　the　conclusion　that　Tilly　Masterton　was　one　of　those　girls　whose　hormones　had　got　mixed　up。　He　knew　the　type　well　and　thought　they　and　their　male　counterparts　were　a　direct　consequence　of　giving　votes　to　women　and　'sex　equality'。　As　a　result　of　fifty　years　of　emancipation；　feminine　qualities　were　dying　out　or　being　transferred　to　the　males。　Pansies　of　both　sexes　were　everywhere；　not　yet　pletely　homosexual；　but　confused；　not　knowing　what　they　were。　The　result　was　a　herd　of　unhappy　sexual　misfits　…　barren　and　full　of　frustrations；　the　women　wanting　to　dominate　and　the　men　to　be　nannied。　He　was　sorry　for　them；　but　he　had　no　time　for　them。　Bond　smiled　sourly　to　himself　as　he　remembered　his　fantasies　about　this　girl　as　they　sped　along　the　valley　of　the　Loire。　Entre　Deux　Seins　indeed！
　At　the　end　of　the　day；　there　was　a　final　note　from　Gold…finger：
　Five　principals　and　myself　will　leave　La　Guardia　Airport　tomorrow　at　11　am　in　chartered　plane　flown　by　my　pilots　for　aerial　survey　of　Grand　Slam。　You　will　acpany。　Masterton　will　remain。　G。
　Bond　sat　on　the　edge　of　his　bed　and　looked　at　the　wall。　Then　he　got　up　and　went　to　the　typewriter。　He　worked　for　an　hour；　typing；　single…spaced；　on　both　sides　of　the　sheet；　exact　details　of　the　operation。　He　folded　the　sheet；　rolled　it　to　a　small　cylinder　about　the　size　of　his　little　finger　and　sealed　it　carefully　with　gum。　Next　he　typed　on　a　slip　of　paper：
　URGENT　AND　VITAL。　REWARD　OF　FIVE　THOUSAND　DOLLARS　IS　GUARANTEED　WITH　NO　QUESTIONS　ASKED　TO　THE　FINDER　WHO　DELIVERS　THIS　MESSAGE　UNOPENED　TO　FELIX　LEITER　CARE　PINKERTON'S　DETECTIVE　AGENCY；　154　NASSAU　STREET；　NEW　YORK　CITY。　IMMEDIATE　CASH　ON　DELIVERY。
　Bond　rolled　this　message　round　the　cylinder；　wrote　5000　REWARD　in　red　ink　on　the　outside；　and　stuck　the　little　package　down　the　centre　of　three　inches　of　Scotch　tape。　Then　he　sat　down　again　on　the　edge　of　the　bed　and　carefully　strapped　the　free　ends　of　the　Scotch　tape　down　the　inside　of　his　thigh。
　
　CHAPTER　TWENTY
　
　JOURNEY　INTO　HOLOCAUST
　
　'MISTER；　Flying　Control　is　buzzing　us。　Wants　to　know　who　we　are。　They　say　this　is　restricted　air。'
　Goldfinger　got　up　from　his　seat　and　went　forward　into　the　cockpit。　Bond　watched　him　pick　up　the　hand　microphone。　His　voice　came　back　clearly　over　the　quiet　hum　of　the　ten…seater　Executive　Beechcraft。　'Good　morning。　This　is　Mr　Gold　of　Paramount　Pictures　Corporation。　We　are　carrying　out　an　authorized　survey　of　the　territory　for　a　forthing　〃A〃　picture　of　the　famous　Confederate　raid　of　1861　which　resulted　in　the　capture　of　General　Sherman　at　Muldraugh
　Hill。　Yes；　that's　right。　Gary　Grant　and　Elizabeth　Taylor　in　the　lead。　What's　that？　Clearance？　Sure　we've　got　clearance。　Let　me　see　now'　（Goldfinger　consulted　nothing）'　…　yes；　here　it　is。　Signed　by　Chief　of　Special　Services　at　the　Pentagon。　'Sure；　the　manding　Officer　at　the　Armoured　Centre　will　have　a　copy。　Okay　and　thanks。　Hope　you'll　enjoy　the　picture。　'Bye。'
　Goldfinger　wiped　the　breezy　expression　off　his　face；　handed　over　the　microphone　and　came　back　into　the　cabin。　He　braced　his　legs　and　stood　looking　down　at　his　passengers。　'Well；　gentlemen　and　madam；　do　you　think　you've　seen　enough？　I　think　you'll　agree　it's　all　pretty　clear　and　conforms　with　your　copies　of　the　town　plan。　I　don't　want　to　go　much　lower　than　six　thousand。　Perhaps　we　could　make　one　more　circuit　and　be　off。　Oddjob；　get　out　the　refreshments。'
　There　was　a　mumble　of　ment　and　questions　which　Goldfinger　dealt　with　one　by　one。　Oddjob　got　up　from　Bond's　side　and　walked　down　to　the　rear。　Bond　followed　him　and；　under　his　hard；　suspicious　stare；　went　into　the　little　lavatory　and　locked　the　door。
　He　sat　down　calmly　and　thought。　There　hadn't　been　a　chance　on　the　way　down　to　La　Guardia。　He　had　sat　with　Oddjob　in　the　back　of　an　unobtrusive　Buick　saloon。　The　doors　had　been　locked　on　them　by　the　driver　and　the　windows　tightly　closed。　Goldfinger　had　ridden　in　front；　the　partition　closed　behind　him。　Oddjob　had　sat　slightly　sideways；　his　horn…ridged　hands　held　ready　on　his　thighs　like　heavy　tools。　He　had　not　taken　his　eyes　off　Bond　until　the　car　had　driven　round　the　boundary　to　the　charter　hangars　and　e　up　alongside　the　private　plane。　Sandwiched　between　Goldfinger　and　Oddjob；　Bond　had　had　no　alternative　but　to　climb　up　the　steps　into　the　plane　and　take　his　seat　with　Oddjob　beside　him。　Ten　minutes　later；　the　others　had　arrived。　There　was　no　munication　with　them　except　an　exchange　of　curt　greetings。　They　were　all　different　now　…　no　smart　remarks；　no　unnecessary　。talk。　These　were　men　who　had　gone　to　war。　Even　Pussy　Galore；　in　a　black　Dacron　macintosh　with　a　black　leather　belt；　looked　like　some　young　S。S。　guardsman。　Once　or　twice　in　the　plane　she　had　turned　and　looked　at　Bond　rather　thoughtfully。　But　she　hadn't　answered　his　smile。　Perhaps　she　just　couldn't　understand　where　Bond　fitted　in；　who　he　was。　When　they　got　back　to　La
　Guardia　there　would　be　the　same　routine。　It　was　now　or　never。　But　where？　Among　the　leaves　of　lavatory　paper？　But　they　might　be　disturbed　too　soon　or　not　for　weeks。　Would　the　ash…tray　be　emptied？　Possibly　not。　But　one　thing　would。
　There　was　a　rattle　at　the　door…handle。　Oddjob　was　getting　restless。　Perhaps　Bond　was　setting　fire　to　the　plane。　Bond　called；　'ing；　ape。'　He　got　up　and　lifted　the　seat。　He　tore　the　little　p