if.thespywholovedme-第23节

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otect　a　lonely　girl　in　the　night。　I　don't　know　how　they　would　have　worked　it　out。　But　my　guess　is　that　our　friends；　once　I　told　them　I　was　a　policeman；　may　have　thought　about　guns　and　other　incriminating　hardware　that　wouldn't　be　destroyed　in　the　fire　and　might　have　waited　a　few　hours　and　then　gone　in　and　raked　about　in　the　ashes　to　take　care　of　that　sort　of　trouble。　They'd　have　been　careful　about　their　raking；　and　of　their　footprints　in　the　cinders；　of　course。　But　then；　these　people　are　pros。〃　His　mouth　turned　down。　〃By　their　standards；　that　is。〃
　〃But　why　didn't　they　kill　you？〃
　〃They　did；　or　rather　they　thought　they　had。　When　I　left　you　and　went　along　to　my　cabin；　I　reckoned　that　if　anything　was　going　to　happen　to　you　they　would　get　rid　of　me　first。　So　I　rigged　up　a　dummy　in　my　bed。　A　good　one。　I've　done　it　before；　and　I've　got　the　trick。　You　mustn't　only　have　something　that　looks　like　a　body　in　the　bed。　You　can　do　that　with　pillows　and　towels　and　bedding。　You　must　also　have　something　that　looks　like　hair　on　the　pillow。　I　did　that　with　handfuls　of　pine　needles；　just　enough　to　make　a　dark　clump　on　the　pillow　with　the　sheets　drawn　up　to　it…very　artistic。　Then　I　hung　my　shirt　over　the　back　of　a　chair　beside　the　bed…　another　useful　prop　that　conveys　the　idea　that　the　man　belonging　to　the　shirt　is　inside　the　bed…and　I　left　the　oil…lamp　burning　low；　close　to　the　bed　to　help　their　marksmanship…if　any。　I　put　amateurish　wedges　under　the　door　and　propped　a　chair…back　under　the　door　handle　to　show　a　natural　sense　of　precaution。　Then　I　took　my　bag　round　to　the　back　and　waited　in　the　trees。〃　James　Bond　gave　a　sour　laugh。　〃They　gave　me　an　hour　and　then　they　came　so　softly　that　I　didn't　hear　a　thing。　Then　there　was　the　bang　of　the　door　being　forced　and　a　series　of　quick　clonks…they　were　using　a　silencer…and　then　the　whole　interior　of　the　cabin　went　bright　with　the　thermite。　I　thought　I　had　been　very　clever；　but　it　turned　out　I　very　nearly　wasn't　clever　enough。　It　took　me　almost　five　minutes　to　work　my　way　up　to　your　cabin　through　the　trees。　I　wasn't　worried。　I　thought　it　would　take　them　all　that　to　get　into　your　cabin　and　I　was　ready　to　break　out　in　the　open　if　I　heard　your　gun。　But　sometime　this　evening；　probably　when　Sluggsy　was　making　the　cabin　inspection　you　told　me　about；　he　had　pickaxed　a　hole　in　the　wall　behind　your　clothes　cupboard；　leaving　only　the　plaster…board　lining　to　be　cut　through　with　a　sharp　knife。　He　may　or　may　not　have　put　the　stone　loosely　back。　I　don't　know。　Anyway；　he　didn't　need　to。　There　was　no　occasion　for　either　of　us　to　go　into　the　carport　of　Number　8；　and　no　reason　to。　If　you　had　been　here　alone；　they　would　have　seen　to　it　that　you　kept　away　from　there。　Anyway；　the　first　thing　I　knew　was　seeing　the　light　of　the　thermite　from　your　cabin。　Then　I　ran　like　hell；　dodging　across　the　open　backs　of　the　carports　as　I　heard　them　ing　back　down　the　line；　opening　the　doors　of　the　cabins　and　tossing　bombs　in　and　then　carefully　shutting　the　doors　to　make　it　look　tidy。〃
　During　all　this　while；　James　Bond　had　been　glancing　from　time　to　time　at　the　roof　of　the　lobby　building　that　we　could　just　see　over　the　tops　of　the　flaming　cabins。　Now　he　said　casually；　〃They've　set　it　going。　I'll　have　to　get　after　them。　How　are　you　feeling；　Viv？　Any　stuffing　left？　How's　the　head？〃
　I　said　impatiently；　〃Oh；　I'm　all　right。　But　James；　do　you　have　to　go　after　them？　Let　them　get　away。　What　do　they　matter？　You　might　get　hurt。〃
　He　said　firmly；　〃No；　darling。　They　almost　killed　both　of　us。　Any　minute　now　they　may　e　back　and　find　the　Vespa　gone。　Then　we'll　have　lost　the　surprise　factor。　And　I　can't　let　them　get　away　with　it。　These　are　killers。　They'll　be　off　killing　someone　else　tomorrow。〃　He　smiled　cheerfully。　〃Besides；　they　ruined　my　shirt！〃
　〃Well；　then　you　must　let　me　help。〃　I　put　my　hand　out　to　him。　〃And　you　will　take　care；　won't　you？　I　can't　do　without　you。　I　don't　want　to　be　alone　again。〃
　He　ignored　my　hand。　He　said；　almost　coldly；　〃Now　don't　hang　on　my　gun　arm；　there's　a　good　girl。　This　is　something　I've　got　to　do。　It's　just　a　job。　Now〃…he　handed　me　the　Smith　and　Wesson…〃you　move　quietly　up　in　the　trees　to　the　carport　of　Number　3。　That's　in　the　dark；　and　the　wind's　blowing　the　fire　the　other　way。　You　can　watch　from　there　without　being　seen。　If　I　need　help；　I'll　know　where　to　find　you；　so　don't　budge。　If　I　call；　e　running　fast。　If　anything　happens　to　me；　get　moving　along　the　shore　of　the　lake　and　work　your　way　as　far　as　you　can。　After　this　fire；　there'll　be　plenty　of　police　along　tomorrow；　and　you　can　smuggle　yourself　back　and　contact　one　of　them。　They'll　believe　you。　If　they　argue；　tell　them　to　ring　up　C。I。A。　in　Washington；　the　Central　Intelligence　Agency；　and　you'll　see　plenty　of　action。　Just　say　who　I　was。　I've　got　a　number　in　my　outfit…sort　of　recognition　number。　It's　007。　Try　not　to　forget　it。〃
　　
　Thirteen：　The　Crash　of　Guns
　
　〃I　was。〃　〃Say　who　I　was。。。。〃
　Why　did　he　have　to　say　such　a　thing；　put　the　idea　into　the　mind　of　God；　of　Fate；　of　whoever　was　controlling　tonight？　One　should　never　send　out　black　thoughts。　They　live　on；　like　sound…waves；　and　get　into　the　stream　of　consciousness　in　which　we　all　swim。　If　God；　Fate；　happened　to　be　listening　in；　at　that　moment；　on　that　particular　wavelength；　it　might　be　made　to　happen。　The　hint　of　a　death…thought　might　be　misunderstood。　It　might　be　read　as　a　request！
　So　I　mustn't　think　these　thoughts　either；　or　I　would　be　adding　my　weight　to　the　dark　waves　of　destiny！　What　nonsense！　I　had　learned　this　sort　of　stuff　from　Kurt。　He　had　always　been　full　of　〃cosmic　chain　reactions；〃　〃cryptograms　of　the　life…force；〃　and　other　Germanic　magical　double…talk　that　I　had　avidly　lapped　up　as　if；　as　he　had　sometimes　hinted；　he　himself　had　been　the　〃Central　Dynamic；〃　or　at　least　part　of　it；　who　controlled　all　these　things。
　Of　course　James　Bond　had　said　that　flippantly；　in　a　cross…my…fingers　way；　like　the　skiers　I　had　known　in　Europe　who　said　〃Hals　und　Beinbruch！〃　to　their　friends　before　they　took　off　on　the　slalom　or　the　downhill　race。　To　wish　them　〃Break　your　neck　and　your　leg〃　before　the　off　was　to　avert　accidents；　to　invoke　the　opposite　of　the　evil　eye。　James　Bond　was　just　being　〃British〃…using　a　throwaway　phrase　to　buck　me　up。　Well；　I　wished　he　hadn't。　The　crash　of　guns；　gangsters；　attempted　murders；　were　part　of　his　job；　his　life。　They　weren't　part　of　mine；　and　I　blamed　him　for　not　being　more　sensitive；　more　human。
　Where　was　he　now？　Working　his　way　through　the　shadows；　using　the　light　of　the　flames　as　cover；　pricking　up　his　senses　for　danger？　And　what　were　the　enemy　doing？　Were　they　waiting　for　him　in　ambush？　Would　there　suddenly　be　a　roar　of　gunfire？　Then　screams？
　I　got　to　the　carport　of　Number　3　cabin　and；　brushing　along　the　rough…cast　stone　wall；　felt　my　way　through　the　darkness。　I　cautiously　inched　the　last　few　feet　and　looked　round　the　corner　toward　the　dancing　flames　and　shadows　of　the　other　cabins　and　of　the　lobby　block。
　There　was　no　one　to　be　seen；　no　movement　except　the　flames　at　which　the　wind　tugged　intermittently　to　keep　the　blaze　alive。　Now　some　of　the　bordering　trees　behind　the　cabins　were　almost　catching　and　sparks　were　blowing　from　their　drying　branches　away　into　the　darkness。　If　it　hadn't　been　for　the　storm；　surely　a　forest　fire　would　have　been　started　and　then　the　coshed　girl　with　her　broken　lamp　would　indeed　have　left　her　mark　on　the　United　States　of　America！　How　far　would　it　have　gone　with　the　wind　to　help　it？　Ten　miles？　Twenty？　How　many　trees　and　birds　and　animals　would　the　little　dead　girl　from　Quebec　have　destroyed？
　Another　cabin　roof　fell　in；　and　there　was　the　same　great　shower　of　orange　sparks。　And　now　the　gimcrack　timbered　roof　of　the　lobby　block　was　going。　It　caved　slowly　inward　and　then　collapsed　like　a　badly　cooked　soufflé；　and　more　showers　of　sparks　went　up　gaily　and　burned　themselves　out　as　they　briefly　drifted　away　on　the　wind。　The　extra　burst　of　flame　showed　up　the　two　cars　beside　the　road；　the　gray　Thunderbird　and　the　shining　black　sedan。　But　there　was　still　no　sign　of　the　gangsters　and　none　of　James　Bond。
　I　suddenly　realized　that　I　had　forgotten　all　about　time。　I　looked　at　my　watch。　It　was　two　o'clock。　So　it　was　only　five　hours　since　all　this　had　begun！　It　could　have　been　weeks。　My　former　life　seemed　almost　years　away。　Even　last　evening；　when　I　had　sat　and　thought　about　that　life；　was　difficult　to　remember。　Everything　had　suddenly　been　erased。　Fear　and　pain　and　danger　had　taken　over。　It　was　like　being　in　a　shipwreck；　an　airplane　or　a　train　crash；　an　earthquake　or　a　hurricane。　When　these　things　happen　to　you；　it　must　be　just　the　same。　The　black　wings　of　emergency　blot　out　the　sky；　and　there　is　no　past　and　no　future。　You　live　through　each　minute；　survive　each　second；　as　though　it　is　your　last。　There　is　no　other　time；　no　other　place　but　now　and　here。
　And　then　I　saw　the　men！　They　were　ing　up　toward　me　on　the　grass；　and　each　was　carrying　a　big　box　in　his　hands。　They　were　television　sets。　They　must　have　salvaged　them　to　sell　and　make　themselves　a　little　extra　cash。　They　walked　side　by　side；　the　thin　man　and　the　squat；　and　the　light　from　the　flaming　cabins　shone　on　their　sweating　faces。　When　they　came　to　the　charred　arches　of　the　covered　way　to　th