if.moonraker-第21部分

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rocket　cranks；　and　business　letters　from　Drax's　stockbroker　and　from　other　mercial　agents。　To　these　Drax　would　dictate　brief　replies　and　the　rest　of　her　day　would　be　occupied　with　typing　and　filing。　So　it　was　natural　that　her　one　duty　connected　with　the　operation　of　the　rocket　should　bulk　very　large　in　the　dull　round；　and　that　morning；　as　she　checked　and　rechecked　her　flight…plan；　she　was　more　than　ever　determined　that　her　figures　should　be　accepted　on　The　Day。　And　yet；　as　she　often　reminded　herself；　perhaps　there　was　no　question　but　that　they　would　be。　Perhaps　the　daily　calculations　of　Drax　and　Walter　for　entry　in　the　little　black　book　were　nothing　but　a　recheck　of　her　own　figures。　Certainly　Drax　had　never　queried　either　her　weather　plan　or　the　gyro　settings　she　calculated　from　them。　And　when　one　day　she　had　asked　straight　out　whether　her　figures　were　correct　he　had　replied　with　evident　sincerity；　〃Excellent；　my　dear。　Most　valuable。　Couldn't　manage　without　them。〃
　Gala　Brand　walked　back　into　her　own　office　and　started　slitting　open　the　letters。　Only　two　more　flight　plans；　for　Thursday　and　Friday　and　then；　on　her　figures　or　on　a　different　set；　the　set　in　Drax's　pocket；　the　gyros　would　be　finally　adjusted　and　the　switch　would　be　pulled　in　the　firing　point。
　She　absentmindedly　looked　at　her　finger…nails　and　then　stretched　her　two　hands　out　with　their　backs　towards　her。　How　often　in　the　course　of　her　training　at　the　Police　College　had　she　been　sent　out　among　the　other　pupils　and　told　not　to　e　back　without　a　pocketbook；　a　vanity　case；　a　fountain　pen；　even　a　wristwatch？　How　often　during　the　courses　had　the　instructor　whipped　round　and　caught　her　wrist　with　a　'Now；　now；　Miss。　That　won't　do　at　all。　Might　have　been　an　elephant　looking　for　sugar　in　the　keeper's　pocket。　Try　again。'　Coolly　she　flexed　her　fingers　and　then；　her　mind　made　up；　turned　back　to　the　pile　of　letters。
　At　a　few　minutes　to　nine　the　alarm　bells　rang　and　she　heard　Drax　arrive　in　the　office。　A　moment　later　she　heard　him　open　the　double　doors　again　and　call　for　Walter。　Then　came　the　usual　mumble　of　voices　whose　words　were　drowned　by　the　soft　whirr　of　the　ventilators。
　She　arranged　the　letters　in　their　three　piles　and　sat　forward　relaxed；　her　elbows　resting　on　the　desk　and　her　chin　in　her　left　hand。
　mander　Bond。　James　Bond。　Clearly　a　conceited　young　man　like　so　many　of　them　in　the　Secret　Service。　And　why　had　he　been　sent　down　instead　of　somebody　she　could　work　with；　one　of　her　friends　from　the　Special　Branch；　or　even　somebody　from　MI5？　The　message　from　the　Assistant　missioner　had　said　that　there　was　no　one　else　available　at　short　notice；　that　this　was　one　of　the　stars　of　the　Secret　Service　who　had　the　plete　confidence　of　the　Special　Branch　and　the　blessings　of　MI5。　Even　the　Prime　Minister　had　had　to　give　permission　for　him　to　operate；　for　just　this　one　assignment；　inside　England。　But　what　use　could　he　be　in　the　short　time　that　was　left？　He　could　probably　shoot　all　right　and　talk　foreign　languages　and　do　a　lot　of　tricks　that　might　be　useful　abroad。　But　what　good　could　he　do　down　here　without　any　beautiful　spies　to　make　love　to。　Because　he　was　certainly　good…looking。　（Gala　Brand　automatically　reached　into　her　bag　for　her　vanity　case。　She　examined　herself　in　the　little　mirror　and　dabbed　at　her　nose　with　a　powder　puff。）　Rather　like　Hoagy　Carmichael　in　a　way。　That　black　hair　falling　down　over　the　right　eyebrow。　Much　the　same　bones。　But　there　was　something　a　bit　cruel　in　the　mouth；　and　the　eyes　were　cold。　Were　they　grey　or　blue？　It　had　been　difficult　to　say　last　night。　Well；　at　any　rate　she　had　put　him　in　his　place　and　shown　him　that　she　wasn't　impressed　by　dashing　young　men　from　the　Secret　Service；　however　romantic　they　might　look。　There　were　just　as　good…looking　men　in　the　Special
　Branch；　and　they　were　real　detectives；　not　just　people　that　Phillips　Oppenheim　had　dreamed　up　with　fast　cars　and　special　cigarettes　with　gold　bands　on　them　and　shoulder…holsters。　Oh；　she　had　spotted　that　all　right　and　had　even　brushed　against　him　to　make　sure。　Ah　well；　she　supposed　she　would　have　to　make　some　sort　of　show　of　working　along　with　him；　though　in　what　direction　heaven　only　knew。　If　she　had　been　down　there　ever　since　the　place　had　been　built　without　spotting　anything；　what　could　this　Bond　man　hope　to　discover　in　a　couple　of　days？　And　what　was　there　to　find　out？　Of　course　there　were　one　or　two　things　she　couldn't　understand。　Should　she　tell　him　about　Krebs；　for　instance？　The　first　thing　was　to　see　that　he　didn't　blow　her　cover　by　doing　something　stupid。　She　would　have　to　be　cool　and　firm　and　extremely　careful。　But　that　didn't　mean；　she　decided；　as　the　buzzer　went　and　she　collected　her　letters　and　her　shorthand　book；　that　she　couldn't　be　friendly。　Entirely　on　her　own　terms；　of　course。
　Her　second　decision　made；　she　opened　the　municating　door　and　walked　into　the　office　of　Sir　Hugo　Drax。
　When　she　came　back　into　her　room　half　an　hour　later　she　found　Bond　sitting　back　in　her　chair　with　Whitaker's　Almanack　open　on　the　desk　in　front　of　him。　She　pursed　her　lips　as　Bond　got　up　and　wished　her　a　cheerful　good　morning。　She　nodded　briefly　and　walked　round　her　desk　and　sat　down。　She　moved　the　Whitaker's　carefully　aside　and　put　her　letters　and　notebook　in　its　place。
　〃You　might　have　a　spare　chair　for　visitors；〃　said　Bond　with　a　grin　which　she　defined　as　impertinent；　〃and　something　better　to　read　than　reference　books。〃
　She　ignored　him。　〃Sir　Hugo　wants　you；〃　said。　〃I　was　just　going　to　see　if　you　had　got　up　yet。〃
　〃Liar；〃　said　Bond。　〃You　heard　me　go　by　at　half…past　seven。　I　saw　you　peering　out　between　the　curtains。〃
　〃I　did　nothing　of　the　sort；〃　she　said　indignantly。　〃Why　should　I　be　interested　in　a　car　going　by？〃
　〃I　told　you　you　heard　the　car；〃　said　Bond。　He　pressed　home　his　advantage。　〃And　by　the　way；〃　he　said；　〃you　shouldn't　scratch　your　head　with　the　blunt　end　of　the　pencil　when　you're　taking　dictation。　None　of　the　best　private　secretaries　do。〃
　Bond　glanced　significantly　at　a　point　against　the　jamb　of　the　municating　door。　He　shrugged　his　shoulders。
　Gala's　defences　dropped。　Damn　the　man；　she　thought。　She　gave　him　a　reluctant　smile。　〃Oh；　well；〃　she　said。　〃e　on。　I　can't　spend　all　the　morning　playing　guessing　games。　He　wants　both　of　us　and　he　doesn't　like　being　kept　waiting。〃　She　rose　and　walked　over　to　the　municating　door　and　opened　it。　Bond　followed　her　through　and　shut　the　door　behind　him。
　Drax　was　standing　looking　at　the　illuminated　wall　map。　He　turned　as　they　came　in。　〃Ah；　there　you　are；〃　he　said　with　a　sharp　glance　at　Bond。　〃Thought　you　might　have　left　us。　Guards　reported　you　out　at　seven…thirty　this　morning。〃
　〃I　had　to　make　a　telephone　call；〃　said　Bond。　〃I　hope　I　didn't　disturb　anyone。〃
　〃There's　a　telephone　in　my　study；〃　Drax　said　curtly。　〃Tallon　found　it　good　enough。〃
　〃Ah；　poor　Tallon；〃　said　Bond　non…mittally。　There　was　a　hectoring　note　in　Drax's　voice　that　he　particularly　disliked　and　that　made　him　instinctively　want　to　deflate　the　man。　On　this　occasion　he　was　successful。
　Drax　shot　him　a　hard　glance　which　he　covered　up　with　a　short　barking　laugh　and　a　shrug　of　the　shoulders。　〃Do　as　you　please；〃　he　said。　〃You've　got　your　job　to　do。　So　long　as　you　don't　upset　the　routines　down　here。　You　must　remember；〃　he　added　more　reasonably；　〃all　my　men　are　nervous　as　kittens　just　now　and　I　can't　have　them　upset　by　mysterious　goings…on。　I　hope　you're　not　wanting　to　ask　them　a　lot　of　questions　today。　I'd　rather　they　didn't　have　anything　more　to　worry　about。　They　haven't　recovered　from　Monday　yet。　Miss　Brand　here　can　tell　you　all　about　them；　and　I　believe　all　their　files　are　in　Tallon's　room。　Have　you　had　a　look　at　them　yet？〃
　〃No　key　to　the　filing　cabinet；〃　said　Bond　truthfully。
　〃Sorry；　my　fault；〃　said　Drax。　He　went　to　the　desk　and　opened　a　drawer　from　which　he　took　a　small　bunch　of　keys　and　handed　them　to　Bond。　〃Should　have　given　you　these　last　night。　The　Inspector　chap　on　the　case　asked　me　to　hand　them　over　to　you。　Sorry。〃
　〃Thanks　very　much；〃　said　Bond。　He　paused；　〃By　the　way；　how　long　have　you　had　Krebs？〃　He　asked　the　question　on　an　impulse。　There　was　a　moment's　quiet　in　the　room。
　〃Krebs？〃　repeated　Drax　thoughtfully。　He　walked　over　to　his　desk　and　sat　down。　He　reached　into　his　trouser　pocket　and　pulled　out　a　packet　of　his　cork…tipped　cigarettes。　His　blunt　fingers　scrabbled　。with　its　cellophane　wrapping。　He　extracted　a　cigarette　and　stuffed　it　into　his　mouth　under　the　fringe　of　his　reddish　moustache　and　lit　it。
　Bond　was　surprised。　〃I　didn't　realize　one　could　smoke　down　here；〃　he　said；　taking　out　his　own　case。
　Drax's　cigarette；　a　tiny　white　faggot　in　the　middle　of　the　big　red　face；　waggled　up　and　down　as　he　answered　without　taking　it　out　of　his　mouth。　〃Quite　all　right　in　here；〃　he　said。　〃These　rooms　are　air…tight。　Doors　lined　with　rubber。　Separate　ventilation。　Have　to　keep　the　workshops　and　generators　separate　from　the　shaft　and　anyway；〃　his　lips　grinned　round　the　cigarette；〃　I　have　to　be　able　to　smoke。〃
　Drax　took　the　cigarette　out　of　his　mouth　and　looked　at　it。　He　seemed　to　make　up　his　mind。　〃You　were　asking　about　Krebs；〃　he　said。　〃Well；〃　he　looked　meaningly　up　at　Bond；　〃just　between　ourselves　I　don't　entirely　trust　the　fellow。〃　He　held　up　an　admonitory　hand。　〃Nothing　definite；　of　course；　or　I'd　have　had　him　put　away；　but　I've　found　him　snooping　about　the　house　and　once　I　caught　him　in　my　study　going　through　my　private　papers。　He　had　a　perfectly　good　explanation　and　I　let　him　off　with　a　warning。　But　quite　honestly　I　have　my　suspicions　of　the　man。　Of　course；　he　can't　do　any　harm。　He's　part　of　the　household　staff　and　none　of　them　are　allowed　in　here　but；〃　he　looked　candidly　into　Bond's　eyes；　〃I　would　have　said　you　ought　to　concentrate　on　him。　Bright　of　you　to　have　bowled　him　out　so　quickly；〃　he　added　with　respect。　〃What　put　you　on　to　him？〃
　〃Oh；　nothing　much；〃　said　Bond。　〃He's　got　a　shifty　look。　But　what　you　say's　interesting　and　I'll　certainly　keep　an　eye　on　him。〃
　He　turned　to　Gala　Brand　who　had　remained　silent　ever　since　they　had　entered　the　room。
　〃And　what　do　you　think　of　Krebs；　Miss　Brand？〃　he　asked　politely。
　The　girl　spoke　to　Drax。　〃I　don't　know　much　about　these　things；　Sir　Hugo；〃　she　said　with　a　modesty　and　a　touch　of　impulsiveness　which　Bon