iam fleming.for your eyes only-第19章

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the　far　side　of　the　room　stopped　whatever　he　was　doing　and　hurried　over。
　〃Si；　padrone。〃
　The　man　beckoned。　The　ma？tre　d'h？tel　went　over　and　received　the　whispered　instructions。　He　nodded　briefly；　walked　over　to　a　door　near　the　kitchens　marked　UFFICIO；　and　went　in　and　closed　the　door　behind　him。
　Phase　by　phase；　in　a　series　of　minute　moves；　an　exercise　that　had　long　been　perfected　was　then　smoothly　put　into　effect。　The　man　near　the　caisse　munched　his　spaghetti　and　critically　observed　each　step　in　the　operation　as　if　it　had　been　a　fast　game　of　chess。
　The　ma？tre　d'h？tel　came　out　of　the　door　marked　UFFICIO；　hurried　across　the　restaurant　and　said　loudly　to　his　No。　2：　〃An　extra　table　for　four。　Immediately。〃　The　No。　2　gave　him　a　direct　look　and　nodded。　He　followed　the　ma？tre　d'h？tel　over　to　a　space　adjoining　Bond's　table；　clicked　his　fingers　for　help；　borrowed　a　chair　from　one　table；　a　chair　from　another　table　and；　with　a　bow　and　an　apology；　the　spare　chair　from　Bond's　table。　The　fourth　chair　was　being　carried　over　from　the　direction　of　the　door　marked　UFFICIO　by　the　ma？tre　d'h？tel。　He　placed　it　square　with　the　others；　a　table　was　lowered　into　the　middle　and　glass　and　cutlery　were　deftly　laid。　The　ma？tre　d'h？tel　frowned。　〃But　you　have　laid　a　table　for　four。　I　said　three　…　for　three　people。〃　He　casually　took　the　chair　he　had　himself　brought　to　the　table　and　switched　it　to　Bond's　table。　He　gave　a　wave　of　the　hand　to　dismiss　his　helpers　and　everyone　dispersed　about　their　business。
　The　innocent　little　flurry　of　restaurant　movement　had　taken　about　a　minute。　An　innocuous　trio　of　Italians　came　into　the　restaurant。　The　ma？tre　d'h？tel　greeted　them　personally　and　bowed　them　to　the　new　table；　and　the　gambit　was　pleted。
　Bond　had　hardly　been　conscious　of　it。　Kristatos　returned　from　whatever　business　he　had　been　about；　their　food　came　and　they　got　on　with　the　meal。
　While　they　ate　they　talked　about　nothing　…　the　election　chances　in　Italy；　the　latest　Alfa　Romeo；　Italian　shoes　pared　with　English。　Kristatos　talked　well。　He　seemed　to　know　the　inside　story　of　everything。　He　gave　information　so　casually　that　it　did　not　sound　like　bluff。　He　spoke　his　own　kind　of　English　with　an　occasional　phrase　borrowed　from　other　languages。　It　made　a　lively　mixture。　Bond　was　interested　and　amused。　Kristatos　was　a　tough　insider　…　a　useful　man。　Bond　was　not　surprised　that　the　American　Intelligence　people　found　him　good　value。
　Coffee　came；　Kristatos　lit　a　thin　black　cigar　and　talked　through　it；　the　cigar　jumping　up　and　down　between　the　thin　straight　lips。　He　put　both　hands　flat　on　the　table　in　front　of　him。　He　looked　at　the　tablecloth　between　them　and　said　softly：　〃This　pizniss。　I　will　play　with　you。　To　now　I　have　only　played　with　the　Americans。　I　have　not　told　them　what　I　am　about　to　tell　you。　There　was　no　requirement。　This　machina　does　not　operate　with　America。　These　things　are　closely　regulated。　This　machina　operates　only　with　England。　Yes？　Capito？〃
　〃I　understand。　Everyone　has　his　own　territory。　It's　the　usual　way　in　these　things。〃
　〃Exact。　Now；　before　I　give　you　the　informations；　like　good　mercials　we　make　the　terms。　Yes？〃
　〃Of　course。〃
　Signor　Kristatos　examined　the　tablecloth　more　closely。　〃I　wish　for　ten　thousand　dollars　American；　in　paper　of　small　sizes；　by　tomorrow　lunchtime。　When　you　have　destroyed　the　machina　I　wish　for　a　further　twenty　thousand。〃　Signor　Kristatos　briefly　raised　his　eyes　and　surveyed　Bond's　face。　〃I　am　not　greedy。　I　do　not　take　all　your　funds；　isn't　it？〃
　〃The　price　is　satisfactory。〃
　〃Bueno。　Second　term。　There　is　no　telling　where　you　get　these　informations　from。　Even　if　you　are　beaten。〃
　〃Fair　enough。〃
　〃Third　term。　The　head　of　this　machina　is　a　bad　man。〃　Signor　Kristatos　paused　and　looked　up。　The　black　eyes　held　a　red　glint。　The　clenched　dry　lips　pulled　away　from　the　cigar　to　let　the　words　out。　〃He　is　to　be　destrutto　…　killed。〃
　Bond　sat　back。　He　gazed　quizzically　at　the　other　man　who　now　leaned　slightly　forward　over　the　table；　waiting。　So　the　wheels　had　now　shown　within　the　wheels！　This　was　a　private　vendetta　of　some　sort。　Kristatos　wanted　to　get　himself　a　gunman。　And　he　was　not　paying　the　gunman；　the　gunman　was　paying　him　for　the　privilege　of　disposing　of　an　enemy。　Not　bad！　The　fixer　was　certainly　working　on　a　big　fix　this　time　…　using　the　Secret　Service　to　pay　off　his　private　scores。　Bond　said　softly：　〃Why？〃
　Signor　Kristatos　said　indifferently：　〃No　questions　catch　no　lies。〃
　Bond　drank　down　his　coffee。　It　was　the　usual　story　of　big　syndicate　crime。　You　never　saw　more　than　the　tip　of　the　iceberg。　But　what　did　that　matter　to　him？　He　had　been　sent　to　do　one　specific　job。　If　his　success　benefited　others；　nobody；　least　of　all　M；　could　care　less。　Bond　had　been　told　to　destroy　the　machine。　If　this　unnamed　man　was　the　machine；　it　would　be　merely　carrying　out　orders　to　destroy　the　man。　Bond　said：　〃I　cannot　promise　that。　You　must　see　that。　All　I　can　say　is　that　if　the　man　tries　to　destroy　me；　I　will　destroy　him。〃
　Signor　Kristatos　took　a　toothpick　out　of　the　holder；　stripped　off　the　paper　and　set　about　cleaning　his　fingernails。　When　he　had　finished　one　hand　he　looked　up。　He　said：　〃I　do　not　often　gamble　on　incertitudes。　This　time　I　will　do　so　because　it　is　you　who　are　paying　me；　and　not　me　you。　Is　all　right？　So　now　I　will　give　you　the　informations。　Then　you　are　alone　…　solo。　Tomorrow　night　I　fly　to　Karachi。　I　have　important　pizniss　there。　I　can　only　give　you　the　informations。　After　that　you　run　with　the　ball　and　…〃　he　threw　the　dirty　toothpick　down　on　the　table　…　〃Che　sera；　sera。〃
　〃All　right。〃
　Signor　Kristatos　edged　his　chair　nearer　to　Bond。　He　spoke　softly　and　quickly。　He　gave　specimen　dates　and　names　to　document　his　narrative。　He　never　hesitated　for　a　fact　and　he　did　not　waste　time　on　irrelevant　detail。　It　was　a　short　story　and　a　pithy　one。　There　were　two　thousand　American　gangsters　in　the　country　…　Italian…Americans　who　had　been　convicted　and　expelled　from　the　United　States。　These　men　were　in　a　bad　way。　They　were　on　the　blackest　of　all　police　lists　and；　because　of　their　records；　their　own　people　were　wary　of　employing　them。　A　hundred　of　the　toughest　among　them　had　pooled　their　funds　and　small　groups　from　this　elite　had　moved　to　Beirut；　Istanbul；　Tangier　and　Macao　…　the　great　smuggling　centres　of　the　world。　A　further　large　section　acted　as　couriers；　and　the　bosses　had　acquired；　through　nominees；　a　small　and　respectable　pharmaceutical　business　in　Milan。　To　this　centre　the　outlying　groups　smuggled　opium　and　its　derivatives。　They　used　small　craft　across　the　Mediterranean；　a　group　of　stewards　in　an　Italian　charter　airline　and；　as　a　regular　weekly　source　of　supply；　the　through　carriage　of　the　Orient　Express　in　which　whole　sections　of　bogus　upholstery　were　fitted　by　bribed　members　of　the　train　cleaners　in　Istanbul。　The　Milan　firm　…　Pharmacia　Colomba　SA　…　acted　as　a　clearing…house　and　as　a　convenient　centre　for　breaking　down　the　raw　opium　into　heroin。　Thence　the　couriers；　using　innocent　motor　cars　of　various　makes；　ran　a　delivery　service　to　the　middlemen　in　England。
　Bond　interrupted。　〃Our　Customs　are　pretty　good　at　spotting　that　sort　of　traffic。　There　aren't　many　hiding　places　in　a　car　they　don't　know　about。　Where　do　these　men　carry　the　stuff？〃
　〃Always　in　the　spare　wheel。　You　can　carry　twenty　thousand　pounds　worth　of　heroin　in　one　spare　wheel。〃
　〃Don't　they　ever　get　caught　…　either　bringing　the　stuff　in　to　Milan　or　taking　it　on？〃
　〃Certainly。　Many　times。　But　these　are　well…trained　men。　And　they　are　tough。　They　never　talk。　If　they　are　convicted；　they　receive　ten　thousand　dollars　for　each　year　spent　in　prison。　If　they　have　families；　they　are　cared　for。　And　when　all　goes　well　they　make　good　money。　It　is　a　co…operative。　Each　man　receives　his　tranche　of　the　brutto。　Only　the　chief　gets　a　special　tranche。〃
　〃All　right。　Well；　who　is　this　man？〃
　Signor　Kristatos　put　his　hand　up　to　the　cheroot　in　his　mouth。　He　kept　the　hand　there　and　spoke　softly　from　behind　it。　〃Is　a　man　they　call　'The　Dove'；　Enrico　Colombo。　Is　the　padrone　of　this　restaurant。　That　is　why　I　bring　you　here；　so　that　you　may　see　him。　Is　the　fat　man　who　sits　with　a　blonde　woman。　At　the　table　by　the　cassa。　She　is　from　Vienna。　Her　name　is　Lisl　Baum。　A　luxus　whore。〃
　Bond　said　reflectively：　〃She　is；　is　she？〃　He　did　not　need　to　look。　He　had　noticed　the　girl；　as　soon　as　he　had　sat　down　at　the　table。　Every　man　in　the　restaurant　would　have　noticed　her。　She　had　the　gay；　bold；　forthing　looks　the　Viennese　are　supposed　to　have　and　seldom　do。　There　was　a　vivacity　and　a　charm　about　her　that　lit　up　her　corner　of　the　room。　She　had　the　wildest　possible　urchin　cut　in　ash　blonde；　a　pert　nose；　a　wide　laughing　mouth　and　a　black　ribbon　round　her　throat。　James　Bond　knew　that　her　eyes　had　been　on　him　at　intervals　throughout　the　evening。　Her　panion　had　seemed　just　the　type　of　rich；　cheerful；　good…living　man　she　would　be　glad　to　have　as　her　lover　for　a　while。　He　would　give　her　a　good　time。　He　would　be　generous。
　There　would　be　no　regrets　on　either　side。　On　the　whole；　Bond　had　vaguely　approved　of　him。　He　liked　cheerful；　expansive　people　with　a　zest　for　life。　Since　he；　Bond；　could　not　have　the　girl；　it　was　at　least　something　that　she　was　in　good　hands。　But　now？　Bond　glanced　across　the　room。　The　couple　were　laughing　about　something。　The　man　patted　her　cheek　and　got　up　and　went　to　the　door　marked　UFFICIO　and　went　through　and　shut　the　door。　So　this　was　the　man　who　ran　the　great　pipeline　into　England。　The　man　with　M's　price　of　a　hundred　thousand　pounds　on　his　head。　The　man　Kristatos　wanted　Bond　to　kill。　Well；　he　had　better　get　on　with　the　job。　Bond　stared　rudely　across　the　room　at　the　girl。　When　she　lifted　her　head　and　looked　at　him；　he　smiled　at　her。　Her　eyes　swept　past　him；　but　there　was　a　half　smile；　as　if　for　herself；　on　her　lips；　and　when　she　took　a　cigarette　out　of　her　case　and　lit　it　and　blew　the　smoke　straight　up　towards　the　ceiling　there　was　an　offering　of　the　throat　and　the　profile　that　Bond　knew　were　for　him。
　It　was　nearing　the　time　for　the　after…cinema　trade。　The　ma？tre　d'h？tel　was　supervising　the　clearing　of　the　unoccupied　tables　and　the　setting　up　of　new　ones。　There　was　the　usual　bustle　and　slapping　of　napkins　across　chair…seats　and　tinkle　of　glass　and　cutlery　being　laid。　Vaguely　Bond　noticed　the　spare　chair　at　his　table　being　whisked　away　to　help　build　up　a　nearby　table　for　six。　He　began　asking　Kristatos　specific　questions　…　the　personal　habits　of　Enrico　Colombo；　where　he　lived；　the　address　of　his　firm　in　Milan；　what　other　business　interests　he　had。　He　did　not　notice　the　casual　progress　of　the　spare　chair　from　its　fresh　table　to　another；　and　then　to　another；　and　finally　through　the　door　marked　UFFICIO。　There　was　no　reason　why　he　should。
　
　When　the　chair　was　brought　into　his　office；　Enrico　Colombo　waved　the　ma？tre　d'h？tel　away　and　locked　the　door　behind　him。　Then　he　went　to　the　chair　and　lifted　off　the　squab　cushion　and　put　it　on　his　desk。　He　unzipped　one　side　of　the　cushion　and　withdrew　a　Grundig　tape…recorder；　stopped　the　machine；　ran　the　tape　back；　took　it　off　the　recorder　and　put　it　on　a　playback　and　adjusted　the　speed　and　volume。　Then　he　sat　down　at　his　desk　and　lit　a　cigarette　and　listened；　occasionally　making　further　adjustments　and　occasionally　repeatin