if.goldfinger-第4部分

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　'First　name？'
　'Auric。　That　means　golden；　doesn't　it？　He　certainly　is　that。　Got　flaming　red　hair。'
　'Nationality？'
　'You　won't　believe　it；　but　he's　a　Britisher。　Domiciled　in　Nassau。　You'd　think　he'd　be　a　Jew　from　the　name；　but　he　doesn't　look　it。　We're　restricted　at　the　Floridiana。　Wouldn't　have　got　in　if　he　had　been。　Nassavian　passport。　Age　forty…two。　Unmarried。　Profession；　broker。　Got　all　this　from　his　passport。　Had　me　a　peek　via　the　house　detective　when　I　started　to　play　with　him。'
　'What　sort　of　broker？'
　Du　Pont　smiled　grimly。　'I　asked　him。　He　said；　〃Oh；　anything　that　es　along。〃　Evasive　sort　of　fellow。　Clams　up　if　you　ask　him　a　direct　question。　Talks　away　quite　pleasantly　about　nothing　at　all。'
　'What's　he　worth？'
　'Ha！'　said　Mr　Du　Pont　explosively。　'That's　the　damnedest　thing。　He's　loaded。　But　loaded！　I　got　my　bank　to　check　with　Nassau。　He's　lousy　with　it。　Millionaires　are　a　dime　a　dozen　in　Nassau；　but　he's　rated　either　first　or　second　among　them。　Seems　he　keeps　his　money　in　gold　bars。　Shifts　them　around　the　world　a　lot　to　get　the　benefit　of　changes　in　the　gold　price。　Acts　like　a　damn　federal　bank。　Doesn't　trust　currencies。　Can't　say　he's　wrong　in　that；　and　seeing　how　he's　one　of　the　richest　men　in　the　world　there　must　be　something　to　his　system。'　But　the　point　is；　if　he's　as　rich　as　that；　what　the　hell　does　he　want　to　take　a　lousy　twenty…five　grand　off　me　for？*
　A　bustle　of　waiters　round　their　table　saved　Bond　having　to　think　up　a　reply。　With　ceremony；　a　wide　silver　dish　of　crabs；　big　ones；　their　shells　and　claws　broken；　was　placed　in　the　middle　of　the　table。　A　silver　sauceboat　brimming　with　melted　butter　and　a　long　rack　of　toast　was　put　beside　each　of　their　plates。　The　tankards　of　champagne　frothed　pink。　Finally；　with　an　oily　smirk；　the　head　waiter　came　behind　their　chairs　and；　in　turn；　tied　round　their　necks　long　white　silken　bibs　that　reached　down　to　the　lap。
　Bond　was　reminded　of　Charles　Laughton　playing　Henry　VIII；　but　neither　Mr　Du　Pont　nor　the　neighbouring　diners　seemed　surprised　at　the　hoggish　display。　Mr　Du　Pont；　with　a　gleeful　'Every　man　for　himself；　raked　several　hunks　of　crab　on　to　his　plate；　doused　them　liberally　in　melted　butter　and　dug　in。　Bond　followed　suit　and　proceeded　to　eat；　or　rather　devour；　the　most　delicious　meal　he　had　had　in　his　life。
　The　meat　of　the　stone　crabs　was　the　tenderest；　sweetest　shellfish　he　had　ever　tasted。　It　was　perfectly　set　off　by　the　dry　toast　and　slightly　burned　taste　of　the　melted　butter。　The　champagne　seemed　to　have　the　faintest　scent　of　strawberries。　It　was　ice　cold。　After　each　helping　of　crab；　the　champagne　cleaned　the　palate　for　the　next。　They　ate　steadily　and　with　absorption　and　hardly　exchanged　a　word　until　the　dish　was　cleared。
　With　a　slight　belch；　Mr　Du　Pont　for　the　last　time　wiped　butter　off　his　chin　with　his　silken　bib　and　sat　back。　His　face　was　flushed。　He　looked　proudly　at　Bond。　He　said　reverently；　'Mr　Bond；　I　doubt　if　anywhere　in　the　world　a　man　has　eaten　as　good　a　dinner　as　that　tonight。　What　do　you　say？'
　Bond　thought；　I　asked　for　the　easy　life；　the　rich　life。　How　do　I　like　it？　How　do　I　like　eating　like　a　pig　and　hearing　remarks　like　that？　Suddenly　the　idea　of　ever　having　another　meal　like　this；　or　indeed　any　other　meal　with　Mr　Du　Pont；　revolted　him。　He　felt　momentarily　ashamed　of　his　disgust。　He　had　asked　and　it　had　been　given。　It　was　the　puritan　in　him　that　couldn't　take　it。　He　had　made　his　wish　and　the　wish　had　not　only　been　granted；　it　had　been　stuffed　down　his　throat。　Bond　said；　'I　don't　know　about　that；　but　it　was　certainly　very　good。'
　Mr　Du　Pont　was　satisfied。　He　called　for　coffee。　Bond　refused　the　offer　of　cigars　or　liqueurs。　He　lit　a　cigarette　and　waited　with　interest　for　the　catch　to　be　presented。　He　knew　there　would　be　one。　It　was　obvious　that　all　this　was　part　of　the　e…on。　Well；　let　it　e。
　Mr　Du　Pont　cleared　his　throat。　'And　now；　Mr　Bond；　I　have　a　proposition　to　put　to　you。'　He　stared　at　Bond；　trying　to　gauge　his　reaction　in　advance。
　'Yes？'
　'It　surely　was　providential　to　meet　you　like　that　at　the　airport。'　Mr　Du　Font's　voice　was　grave；　sincere。　'I've　never　forgotten　our　first　meeting　at　Royale。　I　recall　every　detail　of　it　…　your　coolness；　your　daring；　your　handling　of　the　cards。'　Bond　looked　down　at　the　table…cloth。　But　Mr　Du　Pont　had　got　tired　of　his　peroration。　He　said　hurriedly；　'Mr　Bond；　I　will　pay　you　ten　thousand　dollars　to　stay　here　as　my　guest　until　you　have　discovered　how　this　man　Goldfinger　beats　me　at　cards。'
　Bond　looked　Mr　Du　Pont　in　the　eye。　He　said；　'That's　a　handsome　offer；　Mr　Du　Pont。　But　I　have　to　get　back　to
　London。　I　must　be　in　New　York　to　catch　my　plane　within　forty…eight　hours。　If　you　will　play　your　usual　sessions　tomorrow　morning　and　afternoon　I　should　have　plenty　of　time　to　find　out　the　answer。　But　I　must　leave　tomorrow　night；　whether　I　can　help　you　or　not。　Done？'　'Done；'　said　Mr　Du　Pont。
　
　CHAPTER　THREE
　
　THE　MAN　WITH　AGORAPHOBIA
　
　THE　FLAPPING　of　the　curtains　wakened　Bond。　He　threw　off　the　single　sheet　and　walked　across　the　thick　pile　carpet　to　the　picture　window　that　filled　the　whole　of　one　wall。　He　drew　back　the　curtains　and　went　out　on　to　the　sun…filled　balcony。
　The　black　and　white　chequer…board　tiles　were　warm；　almost　hot　to　the　feet　although　it　could　not　yet　be　eight　o'clock。　A　brisk　inshore　breeze　was　blowing　off　the　sea；　straining　the　flags　of　all　nations　that　flew　along　the　pier　of　the　private　yacht　basin。　The　breeze　was　humid　and　smelt　strongly　of　the　sea。　Bond　guessed　it　was　the　breeze　that　the　visitors　like；　but　the　residents　hate。　It　would　rust　the　metal　fittings　in　their　homes；　fox　the　pages　of　their　books；　rot　their　wallpaper　and　pictures；　breed　damp…rot　in　their　clothes。
　Twelve　storeys　down　the　formal　gardens；　dotted　with　palm　trees　and　beds　of　bright　croton　and　traced　with　neat　gravel　walks　between　avenues　of　bougainvillaea；　were　rich　and　dull。　Gardeners　were　working；　raking　the　paths　and　picking　up　leaves　with　the　lethargic　slow　motion　of　coloured　help。　Two　mowers　were　at　work　on　the　lawns　and；　where　they　had　already　been；　sprinklers　were　gracefully　flinging　handfuls　of　spray。
　Directly　below　Bond；　the　elegant　curve　of　the　Cabana　Club　swept　down　to　the　beach　…　two　storeys　of　changing…rooms　below　a　flat　roof　dotted　with　chairs　and　tables　and　an　occasional　red　and　white　striped　umbrella。　Within　the　curve　was　the　brilliant　green　oblong　of　the　Olympic…length　swimming…pool　fringed　on　all　sides　by　row　upon　row　of　mattressed　steamer　chairs　on　which　the　customers　would　soon　be　getting　their　fifty…dollar…a…day　sunburn。　White…jacketed　men　were　working　among　them；　straightening　the　lines　of　chairs；　turning　the　mattresses　and　sweeping　up　yesterday's　cigarette　butts。　Beyond　was　the　long；　golden　beach　and　the　sea；　and　more　men　…　raking　the　tideline；　putting　up　the　umbrellas；　laying　out　mattresses。　No　wonder　the　neat　card　inside　Bond's　wardrobe　had　said　that　the　cost　of　the　Aloha　Suite　was　two　hundred　dollars　a　day。　Bond　made　a　rough　calculation。　If　he　was　paying　the　bill；　it　would　take　him　just　three　weeks　to　spend　his　whole　salary　for　the　year。　Bond　smiled　cheerfully　to　himself。　He　went　back　into　the　bedroom；　picked　up　the　telephone　and　ordered　himself　a　delicious；　wasteful　breakfast；　a　carton　of　king…size　Chesterfields　and　the　newspapers。
　By　the　time　he　had　shaved　and　had　an　ice…cold　shower　and　dressed　it　was　eight　o'clock。　He　walked　through　into　the　elegant　sitting…room　and　found　a　waiter　in　a　uniform　of　plum　and　gold　laying　out　his　breakfast　beside　the　window。　Bond　glanced　at　the　Miami　Herald。　The　front　page　was　devoted　to　yesterday's　failure　of　an　American　ICBM　at　the　nearby　Cape　Canaveral　and　a　bad　upset　in　a　big　race　at　Hialeah。
　Bond　dropped　the　paper　on　the　floor　and　sat　down　and　slowly　ate　his　breakfast　and　thought　about　Mr　Du　Pont　and　Mr　Goldfinger。
　His　thoughts　were　inconclusive。　Mr　Du　Pont　was　either　a　much　worse　player　than　he　thought；　which　seemed　unlikely　on　Bond's　reading　of　his　tough；　shrewd　character；　or　else　Goldfinger　was　a　cheat。　If　Goldfinger　cheated　at　cards；　although　he　didn't　need　the　money；　it　was　certain　that　he　had　also　made　himself　rich　by　cheating　or　sharp　practice　on　a　much　bigger　scale。　Bond　was　interested　in　big　crooks。　He　looked　forward　to　his　first　sight　of　Goldfinger。　He　also　looked　forward　to　penetrating　Goldfinger's　highly　successful　and；　on　the　face　of　it；　highly　mysterious　method　of　fleecing　Mr　Du　Pont。　It　was　going　to　be　a　most　entertaining　day。　Idly　Bond　waited　for　it　to　get　under　way。
　The　plan　was　that　he　would　meet　Mr　Du　Pont　in　the　garden　at　ten　o'clock。　The　story　would　be　that　Bond　had　flown　down　from　New　York　to　try　and　sell　Mr　Du　Pont　a　block　of　shares　from　an　English　holding　in　a　Canadian　Natural　Gas　property。　The　matter　was　clearly　confidential　and　Goldfinger　would　not　think　of　questioning　Bond　about　details。　Shares；　Natural　Gas；　Canada。　That　was　all　Bond　needed　to　remember。　They　would　go　along　together　to　the　roof　of　the　Cabana　Club　where　the　game　was　played　and　Bond　would　read　his　paper　and　watch。　After　luncheon；　during　which　Bond　and　Mr　Du　Pont　would　discuss　their　'business'；　there　would　be　the　same　routine。　Mr　Du　Pont　had　inquired　if　there　was　anything　else　he　could　arrange。　Bond　had　asked　for　the　number　of　Mr　Goldfinger's　suite　and　a　passkey。　He　had　explained　that　if　Goldfinger　was　any　kind　of　a　professional　card…sharp；　or　even　an　expert　amateur；　he　would　travel　with　the　usual　tools　of　the　trade　…　marked　and　shaved　cards；　the　apparatus　for　the　Short　Arm　Delivery；　and　so　forth。　Mr　Du　Pont　had　said　he　would　give　Bond　the　key　when　they　met　in　the　garden。　He　would　have　no　difficulty　getting　one　from　the　manager。
　After　breakfast；　Bond　relaxed　and　gazed　into　the　middle　distance　of　the　sea。　He　was　not　keyed　up　by　the　job　on　hand；　only　interested　and　amused。　It　was　just　the　kind　of　job　he　had　needed　to　clear　his　palate　after　Mexico。
　At　half　past　nine　Bond　left　his　suite　and　wandered　along　the　corridors　of　his　floor；　getting　lost　on　his　way　to　the　elevator　in　order　to　reconnoitre　the　lay…out　of　the　hotel。　Then；　having　met　the　same　maid　twice；　he　asked　his　way　and　went　down　in　the　elevator　and　moved　among　the　scattering　of　early　risers　through　the　Pineapple　Shopping　Arcade。　He　glanced　into　the　Bamboo　Coffee　Sh