iam fleming.for your eyes only-第25章

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　Bond　smiled。　〃I　haven't　got　a　wife。　But　what　about　some　raie　au　beurre　noir　tonight？〃
　〃Not　tonight；　my　friend。　e。　Where　are　your　clothes？〃
　On　their　way　down　the　coast　road　in　the　station　wagon　Fidele　said：　〃Ever　hear　of　an　American　called　Milton　Krest？　Well；　apparently　he　owns　the　Krest　hotels　and　a　thing　called　the　Krest　Foundation。　One　thing　I　can　tell　you　for　sure。　He　owns　the　finest　damned　yacht　in　the　Indian　Ocean。　Put　in　yesterday。　The　Wawekrest。　Nearly　two　hundred　tons。　Hundred　feet　long。　Everything　in　her　from　a　beautiful　wife　down　to　a　big　transistor　gramophone　on　gimbals　so　the　waves　won't　jerk　the　needle。　Wall…to…wall　carpeting　an　inch　deep。　Air…conditioned　throughout。　The　only　dry　cigarettes　this　side　of　the　African　continent；　and　the　best　after…breakfast　bottle　of　champagne；　since　the　last　time　I　saw　Paris。〃　Fidele　Barbey　laughed　delightedly。　〃My　friend；　that　is　one　hell　of　a　bloody　fine　ship；　and　if　Mr　Krest　is　a　grand　slam　redoubled　in　bastards；　who　the　hell　cares？〃
　〃Who　cares　anyway？　What's　it　got　to　do　with　you　…　or　me　for　the　matter　of　that？〃
　〃Just　this；　my　friend。　We　are　going　to　spend　a　few　days　sailing　with　Mr　Krest　…　and　Mrs　Krest；　the　beautiful　Mrs　Krest。　I　have　agreed　to　take　the　ship　to　Chagrin　…　the　island　I　have　spoken　to　you　about。　It　is　bloody　miles　from　here　…　off　the　African　Banks；　and　my　family　have　never　found　any　use　for　it　except　for　collecting　boobies'　eggs。　It's　only　about　three　feet　above　sea…level。　I　haven't　been　to　the　damned　place　for　five　years。　Any　way；　this　man　Krest　wants　to　go　there。　He　s　collecting　marine　specimens；　something　to　do　with　his　Foundation；　and　there's　some　blasted　little　fish　that's　supposed　to　exist　only　around　Chagrin　Island。　At　least　Krest　says　the　only　specimen　in　the　world　came　from　there。〃
　〃Sounds　rather　fun。　Where　do　I　e　in？〃
　〃I　knew　you　were　bored　and　that　you'd　got　a　week　before　you　sail；　so　I　said　that　you　were　the　local　under　water　ace　and　that　you'd　soon　find　the　fish　if　it　was　there；　and　anyway　that　I　wouldn't　go　without　you。　Mr　Krest　was　willing。　And　that's　that。　I　knew；　you'd　be　fooling　around　somewhere　down　the　coast；　so　I　just　drove　along　until　one　of　the　fishermen　told　me　there　was　a　crazy　white　man　trying　to　mit　suicide　alone　at　Belle　Anse　and　I　knew　that　would　be　you。〃
　Bond　laughed。　〃Extraordinary　the　way　these　island　people　are　afraid　of　the　sea。　You'd　think　they'd　have　got　on　terms　with　it　by　now。　Damned　few　of　the　Seychellois　can　even　swim。〃
　〃Roman　Catholic　Church。　Doesn't　like　them　taking　their　clothes　off。　Bloody　nonsense；　but　there　it　is。　And　as　for　being　afraid；　don't　forget　you've　only　been　here　for　a　month。　Shark；　barracuda　…　you　just　haven't　met　a　hungry　one。　And　stone…fish。　Ever　seen　a　man　that's　stepped　on　a　stone…fish？　His　body　bends　backwards　like　a　bow　with　the　pain。　Sometimes　it's　so　frightful　his　eyes　literally　fall　out　of　their　sockets。　They　very　seldom　live。〃
　Bond　said　unsympathetically：　〃They　ought　to　wear　shoes　or　bind　their　feet　up　when　they　go　on　the　reef。　They've　got　these　fish　in　the　Pacific　and　the　giant　clam　into　the　bargain。　It's　damned　silly。　Everybody　moans　about　how　poor　they　are　here；　although　the　sea's　absolutely　paved　with　fish。　And　there　are　fifty　varieties　of　cowrie　under　those　rocks。　They　could　make　another　good　living　selling　those　round　the　world。〃
　Fidele　Barbey　laughed　boisterously。　〃Bond　for　Governor！　That's　the　ticket。　Next　meeting　of　LegCo　I'll　put　the　idea　up。　You're　just　the　man　for　the　job　far…sighted；　full　of　ideas；　plenty　of　drive。　Cowries！　That's　splendid。　They'll　balance　the　budget　for　the　first　time　since　the　patchouli　boom　after　the　War。　'We　sell　sea…shells　from　the　Seychelles。'　That'll　be　our　slogan。　I'll　see　you　get　the　credit。　You'll　be　Sir　James　in　no　time。〃
　〃Make　more　money　that　way　than　trying　to　grow　vanilla　at　a　loss。〃　They　continued　to　wrangle　with　light…hearted　violence　until　the　palm　groves　gave　way　to　the　giant　sangdragon　trees　on　the　outskirts　of　the　ramshackle　capital　of　Mahe。
　It　had　been　nearly　a　month　before　when　M　had　told　Bond　he　was　sending　him　to　the　Seychelles。　Admiralty　are　having　trouble　with　their　new　fleet　base　in　the　Maldives。　munists　creeping　in　from　Ceylon。　Strikes；　sabotage　…　the　usual　picture。　May　have　to　cut　their　losses　and　fall　back　on　the　Seychelles。　A　thousand　miles　farther　south；　but　at　least　they　look　pretty　secure。　But　they　don't　want　to　be　caught　again。　Colonial　Office　say　it's　safe　as　houses。　All　the　same　I've　agreed　to　send　someone　to　give　an　independent　view。　When　Makarios　was　locked　up　there　a　few　years　ago　there　were　quite　a　few　Security　scares。　Japanese　fishing…boats　hanging　about；　one　or　two　refugee　crooks　from　England；　strong　ties　with　France。　Just　go　and　have　a　good　look。〃　M　glanced　out　of　the　window　at　the　driving　March　sleet。　〃Don't　get　sunstroke。〃
　Bond's　report；　which　concluded　that　the　only　conceivable　security　hazard　in　the　Seychelles　lay　in　the　beauty　and　ready　availability　of　the　Seychelloises；　had　been　finished　a　week　before　and　then　he　had　nothing　to　do　but　wait　for　the　ss　Kampala　to　take　him　to　Mombasa。　He　was　thoroughly　sick　of　the　heat　and　the　drooping　palm　trees　and　the　plaintive　cry　of　the　terns　and　the　interminable　conversations　about　copra。　The　prospect　of　a　change　delighted　him。
　Bond　was　spending　his　last　week　in　the　Barbey　house；　and　after　calling　there　to　pick　up　their　bags；　they　drove　out　to　the　end　of　Long　Pier　and　left　the　car　in　the　Customs　shed。　The　gleaming　white　yacht　lay　half　a　mile　out　in　the　roadstead。　They　took　a　pirogue　with　an　outboard　motor　across　the　glassy　bay　and　through　the　opening　in　the　reef。　The　Wawekrest　was　not　beautiful　…　the　breadth　of　beam　and　cluttered　superstructure　stunted　her　lines　…　but　Bond　could　see　at　once　that　she　was　a　real　ship；　built　to　cruise　the　world　and　not　just　the　Florida　Keys。　She　seemed　deserted；　but　as　they　came　alongside　two　smart…looking　sailors　in　white　shorts　and　singlets　appeared　and　stood　by　the　ladder　with　boat…hooks　ready　to　fend　the　shabby　pirogue　off　the　yacht's　gleaming　paint。　They　took　the　two　bags　and　one　of　them　slid　back　an　aluminium　hatch　and　gestured　for　them　to　go　down。　A　breath　of　what　seemed　to　Bond　to　be　almost　freezing　air　struck　him　as　he　went　through　and　down　a　few　steps　into　the　lounge。
　The　lounge　was　empty。　It　was　not　a　cabin。　It　was　a　room　of　solid　richness　and　fort　with　nothing　to　associate　it　with　the　interior　of　a　ship。　The　windows　behind　the　half…closed　venetian　blinds　were　full　size；　as　were　the　deep　armchairs　round　the　low　central　table。　The　carpet　was　the　deepest　pile　in　pale　blue。　The　walls　were　panelled　in　a　silvery　wood　and　the　ceiling　was　off…white。　There　was　a　desk　with　the　usual　writing…materials　and　a　telephone。　Next　to　the　big　gramophone　was　a　sideboard　laden　with　drinks。　Above　the　sideboard　was　what　looked　like　an　extremely　good　Renoir　…　the　head　and　shoulders　of　a　pretty　dark…haired　girl　in　a　black　and　white　striped　blouse。　The　impression　of　a　luxurious　living…room　in　a　town　house　was　pleted　by　a　large　bowl　of　white　and　blue　hyacinths　on　the　central　table　and　by　the　tidy　range　of　magazines　to　one　side　of　the　desk。
　〃What　did　I　tell　you；　James？〃
　Bond　shook　his　head　admiringly。　〃This　is　certainly　the　way　to　treat　the　sea　…　as　if　it　damned　well　didn't　exist。〃　He　breathed　in　deeply。　〃What　a　relief　to　get　a　mouthful　of　fresh　air。　I'd　almost　forgotten　what　it　tastes　like。〃
　〃It's　the　stuff　outside　that's　fresh；　feller。　This　is　canned。〃　Mr　Milton　Krest　had　e　quietly　into　the　room　and　was　standing　looking　at　them。　He　was　a　tough；　leathery　man　in　his　early　fifties。　He　looked　hard　and　fit；　and　the　faded　blue　jeans；　military…cut　shirt　and　wide　leather　belt　suggested　that　he　made　a　fetish　of　doing　so　…　looking　tough。　The　pale　brown　eyes　in　the　weather…beaten　face　were　slightly　hooded　and　their　gaze　was　sleepy　and　contemptuous。　The　mouth　had　a　downward　twist　that　might　be　humorous　or　disdainful　…　probably　the　latter　…　and　the　words　he　had　tossed　into　the　room；　innocuous　in　themselves　except　for　the　patronizing　'feller'　had　been　tossed　like　small　coin　to　a　couple　of　coolies。　To　Bond　the　oddest　thing　about　Mr　Krest　was　his　voice。　It　was　a　soft；　most　attractive　lisping　through　the　teeth。　It　was　exactly　the　voice　of　the　late　Humphrey　Bogart。　Bond　ran　his　eyes　down　the　man　from　the　sparse　close…cropped　black　and　grey　hair；　like　iron　filings　sprinkled　over　the　bullet　head；　to　the　tattooed　eagle　above　a　fouled　anchor　on　the　right　forearm；　and　then　down　to　the　naked　leathery　feet　that　stood　nautically　square　on　the　carpet。　He　thought：　this　man　likes　to　be　thought　a　Hemingway　hero。　I'm　not　going　to　get　on　with　him。
　Mr　Krest　came　across　the　carpet　and　held　out　his　hand。　〃You　Bond？　Glad　to　have　you　aboard；　sir。〃
　Bond　was　expecting　the　bone…crushing　grip　and　parried　it　with　stiffened　muscles。
　〃Free…diving　or　aqualung？〃
　〃Free；　and　I　don't　go　deep。　It's　only　a　hobby。〃
　〃Whadya　do　the　rest　of　the　time？〃
　〃Civil　Servant。〃
　Mr　Krest　gave　a　short　barking　laugh。　〃Civility　and　Servitude。　You　English　make　the　best　goddam　butlers　and　valets　in　the　world。　Civil　Servant；　you　say？　I　reckon　we're　likely　to　get　along　fine。　Civil　Servants　are　just　what　I　like　to　have　around　me。〃
　The　click　of　the　deck　hatch　sliding　back　saved　Bond's　temper。　Mr　Krest　was　swept　from　his　mind　as　a　naked　sunburned　girl　came　down　the　steps　into　the　saloon。　No；　she　wasn't　quite　naked　after　all；　but　the　pale　brown　satin　scraps　of　bikini　were　designed　to　make　one　think　she　was。
　〃'Lo；　treasure。　Where　have　you　been　hiding？　Long　time　no　see。　Meet　Mr　Barbey　and　Mr　Bond；　the　fellers　who　are　ing　along。〃　Mr　Krest　raised　a　hand　in　the　direction　of　the　girl。　〃Fellers；　this　is　Mrs　Krest。　The　fifth　Mrs　Krest。　And　just　in　case　anybody　should　get　any　ideas；　she　loves　Mr　Krest。　Don't　you；　treasure？〃
　〃Oh　don't　be　silly；　Milt；　you　know　I　do。〃　Mrs　Krest　smiled　prettily。　〃How　do　you　do；　Mr　Barbey。　And　Mr　Bond。　It's　nice　to　have　you　with　us。　What　about　a　drink？〃
　〃Now　just　a　minute；　treas。　Suppose　you　let　me　fix　things　aboard　my　own　ship；　hein？〃　Mr　Krest's　voice　was　soft　and　pleasant。
　The　woman　blushed。　〃Oh　yes；　Milt；　of　course。〃
　〃Okay　then；　just　so　we　know　who's　skipper　aboard　the　good　ship　Wawekrest。〃　The　amused　smile　embraced　them　all。　〃Now　then；　Mr　Barbey。　What's　your　first　name；　by　the　way？　Fidele；　eh？　That's　quite　a　name。　Old　Faithful；〃　Mr　Krest　chuckled　bonhomously。　〃Well　now；　Fido；　how's　about　you　and　me　go　upon　the　bridge　and　get　this　little　old　skiff　moving；　hein？　Mebbe　you　better　take　her　out　into　the　open　sea　and　then　you　can　set　a　course　and　hand　over　to　Fritz。　I'm　the　captain。　He's　the　mate；　and　there　are　two　for　the　engine…room　and　pantry。　All　three　Germans。　Only　darned　sailors　left　in　Europe。　And　Mr　Bond。　First　name？　James；　eh？　Well；　Jim；　what　say　you　practise　a　bit　of　that　civility　and　servitude　on　Mrs　Krest。　Call　her　Liz；　by　the　way。　Help　her　fix　the　canapés　and　so　on　for　drinks　before　lunch。　She　was　once　a　Limey　too。　You　can　swap　yarns　about　Piccadilly　Circus　and　the　Dooks　you　both　know。　Okay？　Move；　Fido。〃　He　sprang　boyishly　up　the　steps。　〃Let's　get　the　hell　outa　here。〃
　When　the　hatch　closed；　Bond　let　out　a　deep　breath。　Mrs　Krest　said　apologetically：　〃Please　don't　mind　his　jokes。　It's　just　his　sense　of　humour。　And　he's　a　bit　contrary。　H