It was the next evening and Ernie Cureo's cab was rolling slowly along the Strip towards downtown Las Vegas. Bond had got tired of waiting for something to happen, and he had called up the Pinkerton man and suggested they get together for a talk.
"Not bad," said Bond. "Took some money off them at roulette, but I don't suppose that'll worry our friend. They tell me he's got plenty to spare."
Ernie Cureo snorted. "I'll say," he said. "That guy's so loaded with the stuff he don't need to wear spectacles when he's out driving. Has the windshields of his Cadillacs ground to his eye-doctor's prescription1."
Bond laughed. "What's he spend it on besides that?" he asked.
"He's daft," said the driver. "He's crazy about the Old West. Bought himself a whole ghost town way out on Highway 95. He's shored the place up-wooden sidewalks, a fancy saloon, clapboard hotel where he rooms the boys, even the old railroad station. Way back in '05 or thereabouts, this dump-Spectreville it's called seeing how it's right alongside the Spectre range-was a rarin' silver camp. For around three years they dug millions out of those mountains and a spur line took the stuff into Rhyolite, mebbe fifty miles away. That's another famous ghost town.
Tourist centre now. Got a house made out of whisky bottles. Used to be the railhead where the stuff got shipped to the coast. Well, Spang bought himself one of the old locos, one of the old 'Highland2 Lights' if y'ever heard of the engine, and one of the first Pullman state coaches, and he keeps them there in the station at Spectreville and weekends he takes his pals3 for a run into Rhyolite and back. Drives the train himself. Champagne4 and caviar, orchestra, girls-the works. Must be something. But I never seen it. Ya can't get near the place. Yessir," the driver let down the side window and spat5 emphatically into the road, "that's how Mister Spang spends his money. Daft, like I said."
So that explained it, thought Bond. That was why he had heard nothing from Mr Spang or his friends all through the day. Friday, and they would all be out at the boss's place playing trains, while he had swum and slept and hung about the Tiara all day waiting for something to happen. It was true that he had caught an occasional eye shifting away from his, and there had always been a servant of some sort, or one of the uniformed sheriffs, hanging about in his neighbourhood, rather elaborately doing nothing in particular, but otherwise Bond might have been just any one of the hotel guests.
He had caught a single glimpse of the big man, and the circumstances had given him a perverse6 pleasure.
At about ten o'clock in the morning, after a swim and breakfast, Bond had decided7 to get a haircut at the barber's shop. There were still -very few people about, and the only other customer in the shop was a large figure in a purple terrycloth bathwrap whose face, as the man lay tilted8 back in the chair, was hidden beneath hot towels. His right hand, dangling9 down over the arm of the chair, was being attended to by a pretty manicurist. She had a pink and white doll's face and a short mop of butter-coloured hair and she squatted11 beside him on a low stool with a bowl full of instruments balanced on the tips of her knees.
Bond, gazing into the mirror in front of his own, chair, had watched with interest as the head barber delicately lifted up first one corner of the hot towels and then the other and with infinite precaution snipped12 the hair out of the customer's ears with small, thin scissors. Before he replaced the edge of the towel over the second ear, he bent14 down and said deferentially15 into it, "And the nostrils16, Sir?"
There was an affirmative grunt17 from behind the hot towels and the barber proceeded to open a window through the towels in the neighbourhood of the man's nose. Then he again went cautiously to work with the thin scissors.
After this ceremony, there was dead silence in the small white-tiled room except for the soft clacking of the scissors round Bond's head and the occasional ting as the manicurist dropped an instrument into her enamel18 bowl. And then there was a soft creaking as the head barber carefully wound the handle of the customer's chair so that it came upright.
"How's that, Sir?" said Bond's barber holding a hand-minor
behind his head.
It was as Bond was inspecting the back of his head that it happened.
Perhaps, with the changing elevation19 of the chair, the girl's hand slipped, but there was suddenly a muffled20 roar and the man in the purple dressing-gown sprang out of his chair, tore the towels off his face and plunged21 a finger into his mouth. Then he took it out and bent quickly down and slapped the girl hard across the cheek so that she was knocked off her stool and the enamel bowl of instruments went flying across the room. The man straightened himself and turned a furious face on the barber.
"Fire that bitch," he snarled22. He put the hurt finger back in his mouth and his slippers23 crunched24 amongst the scattered25 instruments as he strode blindly out of the door and disappeared.
"Yes, Sir, Mr Spang," said the barber in a stunned26 voice. He started to bawl-out the sobbing27 girl. Bond turned his head and said quietly, "Stop that." He got up from his chair and unwrapped the towel from round his neck.
The barber gave him a surprised glance. Then he said quickly, "Yes, Sir, Mister," and bent to help the girl gather up her instruments.
While Bond paid for his haircut he heard the kneeling girl say plaintively28: "It weren't my fault, Mister Lucian. He was nervous today. His hands were trembling. Honest they were. Ain't never seen him like that before. Tension, sort of."
And Bond had had a moment of pleasure at the thought of Mr Spang's tension.
Ernie Cureo's voice broke sharply in on his thoughts. "We got ourselves a tail, Mister," he said out of the corner of his mouth. "Two of 'em. Fore13 an' aft. Don't look back. See that black Chewy sedan in front? With the two guys. They got two driving mirrors and they been watching us and keeping step for quite a whiles. Back of us there's a little red sex-ship. Old sports model Jag with a rumble29 seat. Two more guys. With golf clubs in the back. But it just happens I know them guys. Detroit Purple Mob. Coupla lavender boys. You know, pansies. Golf ain't their game. The only irons they can handle are in their pockets. Just swivel y'eyes round as if you was admiring the scenery. Watch their gunhands while I try 'em out. Ready?"
Bond did as he was told. The driver put his foot on the accelerator and simultaneously30 turned off the ignition switch. The exhaust let go like an .88 millimetre and Bond saw the two right hands dive into the two brightly-coloured sports jackets. Bond casually31 turned his head back. "You're right," he said. He paused. "Better let me out, Ernie. I don't want to get you into trouble."
"Shucks," said the driver disgustedly. "They can't do nuthen to me. Ya pay for any damage to the cab, and I'll try and shake 'em. Okay?"
Bond took a 1000-dollar bill out of his note-case and leant over and stuffed it into the pocket of the driver's shirt. "There's a Grand to go on with," he said. "And thanks, Ernie. Let's see what you can do."
Bond slipped his Beretta out of the holster and cradled it in his hand. This, he thought to himself, was just what he had been waiting for.
"Okay, feller," said the driver cheerfully. "I been looking for a chance to take a poke32 at the gang. I don't like being leant on and they been leaning on me and some of my friends for too long. Hold tight. Let's go."
It was a straight stretch of road with not much traffic about. The distant tops of the mountains were yellow in the setting sun and the street was beginning to get blue with the fifteen minutes of dusk when you can't make up your mind whether to switch on your lights.
They were riding easily along at forty with the low-slung33 Jaguar34 right on their tail and the black sedan a block ahead of them. Suddenly, so that Bond pitched forward, Ernie Cureo put his brakes full on and dry-skidded to a stop with a scream of his tyres. There was a shattering splinter of metal and glass as the Jaguar hit their fenders. The cab lurched forward against its brakes and then the driver jammed it into gear and, with a horrible tearing of iron, freed himself from the smashed radiator35 of the car behind and accelerated away down the road.
"That's---ed them proper," said Ernie Cureo with satisfaction. "How they making out?"
"Bust36 radiator grill," said Bond, watching out of the rear window. "Both front wings flattened37. Fender hanging off. Windshield starred, maybe broken." He lost the car in the dusk and turned round. "They're out on the road trying to pull the front wings off the tyres. They may be able to go before long, but it was a good start. Got any more like that?"
"Not so easy now," grunted38 the driver. "War's been declared. Watch it. Better get down. The Chevvy's pulled up at the side of the road. They may try some shootin'. Here we go."
Bond felt the car surge forward. Ernie Cureo was half lying along the front seat, driving with one hand and with his eyes watching the road ahead from just above the dash.
There was a clang and two sharp cracks as they flashed past the Chevrolet. A handful of safety glass showered round Bond. Ernie Cureo swore and the car gave a swerve39 and then got back on its course.
Bond knelt on the back seat and knocked out the glass of the rear window with the butt10 of his gun. The Chevrolet was coming after them, its eyes blazing.
"Hold it," said Cureo with an odd muffled voice. "Coin' to do a sharp turn and stop under cover of the next block. Give y'a a clear shot as they come round after us."
Bond braced40 himself as the tyres screamed and the car lurched on two wheels and then righted itself and stopped. Then he was out of the door and crouching41 with his gun up. The lights of the Chevrolet tore into the side road and there was a squeal42 of tortured rubber as it made the turn on the wrong side. Now, thought Bond, before he can straighten up.
Crack-a pause. Crack. Crack. Crack. Four bullets, at twenty yards, dead on the target.
The Chevrolet didn't straighten up. It went over the kerb on the other side of the road, hit a tree broadside, bounced off it and smashed into a lamp standard and turned completely round and slowly toppled over on its side.
As Bond watched it, waiting for the echoes of the smashing metal to stop ringing in his ears, flames started to bleed slowly from the chromium mouth of the car. Someone was scrabbling at a window, trying to get out. At any moment the flames would find the vacuum pump and run the whole length of the chassis43 to the tank. And then it would be too late for the man inside.
Bond had started across the road when there was a groan44 from the front seat of the cab and he turned round to see Ernie Cureo slip from under the wheel to the floor. Bond forgot the burning car as he tore open the door of the cab and leant over the driver. There was blood everywhere and the whole of the driver's left arm was soaked in it. Bond somehow hauled him into a sitting position on the seat and the driver's eyes opened. "Oh, brother," he said through clenched45 teeth. "Get me out of here, Mister, and drive like hell. Next thing that Jag'll be after us. Then get me to a medic."
"Okay, Ernie," said Bond slipping behind the wheel. "I'll take care of it." He rammed46 the car into gear and moved fast off down the road and away from the blazing pyre and the frightened people who had materialized out of the dusk and were standing47 watching the flames, their hands up to their mouths.
"Keep goin'," muttered Ernie Cureo. "This'll get you near the Boulder48 Dam road. See anything in the mirror?"
"There's a low-slung car with a spotlight49 coming after us fast," said Bond. "Could be the Jag. About two blocks away now." He stamped on the accelerator and the cab hissed50 through the deserted51 side street.
"Keep goin'," said Ernie Cureo. "We gotta hide up some place and let them lose us. Tell ya what. There's a 'Passion Pit" just where this comes out on 95. Drive-in movie. Here we come. Slow. Sharp right. See those lights. Get in there quick. Right. Straight over the sand and between those cars. Off lights. Easy. Stop."
The cab came to rest in the back row of half a dozen ranks of cars lined up to face the concrete screen that soared up into the sky and on which a huge man was just saying something to a huge girl.
Bond turned and looked back down the lanes of metal standards, like parking meters, from which speakers could be connected wthi your car to pick up the sound. As he watched, one or two cars drove in and ranged themselves in the rear rank. Nothing low enough for a Jaguar. But it was dark now and difficult to see and he stayed slewed52 round in his seat, his eyes on the entrance.
An attendant came up, a pretty girl, dressed as a pageboy, with a tray slung round her neck. "That'll be a dollar," she said, glancing into the car to see there was not a third customer on the floor of the cab. She had pick-ups coiled over her right arm and she took one off, plugged it into the nearest standard and hung the small speaker through the window on Bond's side. The huge man and woman on the screen started talking heatedly.
"Coco-Cola, cigarettes, candy?" asked the girl taking the note Bond handed her.
"No, thanks," said Bond.
"You're welcome," said the girl and sauntered off towards the other late arrivals.
"Mister, for Chrissake willya switch off that crap?" pleaded Ernie Cureo through his teeth. "And keep watching. We'll give 'em a whiles more. Then get me to a doc. Dig out the slug." His voice was weak and now that the girl had gone he was half-lying with his head against the door.
"Won't be long, Ernie. Try and stick it." Bond fiddled53 with the speaker, found the switch and silenced the wrangling54 voices. The huge man on the screen looked as if he was going to hit the woman and her mouth gaped55 in a noiseless scream.
Bond turned and strained his eyes across the dark expanse behind them. Still nothing. He glanced at the neighbouring cars. Two faces glued together. A shapeless huddle56 on a back seat. Two prim57, rapt, elderly faces staring upwards58. The glint of light on an upturned bottle.
And then a wave of musky after-shave lotion59 came up to his nose and a dark figure rose up from the ground and a gun was in his face, and a voice on the other side of the car beside Ernie Cureo whispered softly, "Okay, fellers. Take it easy."
Bond looked into the suety face beside him. The eyes were smiling and cold. The wet lips parted and whispered "Out, Limey, or your pal's cold turkey. My friend has a silencer. You and we're goin' for a ride."
Bond turned his head and saw the black sausage of metal against the back of Ernie Cureo's neck. He made up his mind. "Okay, Ernie," he said, "better one than two. I'll go with them. I'll soon be back to get you to the doc. Take care of yourself."
"Funny guy," said suet-face. He opened the door, keeping his gun trained on Bond's face.
"Sorry, friend," said Ernie Cureo in a tired voice. "I guess…" but then there was a sharp thud as the gun hit him behind the ear and he slumped60 forward and was silent.
Bond gritted61 his teethi and his muscles lumped under his coat. He wondered if he could reach the Beretta. He glanced from one gun to the other, measuring, adding up odds62. The four eyes above the two guns were greedy, longing63 for an excuse to kill him. The two mouths were smiling, wanting him to try something. He felt his blood cooling. He gave it another minute and then, with his hands in sight, he stepped slowly out of the car with murder tucked away in the back of his mind.
"Go ahead to the gate," said suet-face softly. "Look natural. I got you covered." His gun had disappeared, but his hand was in his pocket. The other man joined them and his right hand was at the waist-band of his trousers. He ranged himself on Bond's other side.
The three men walked swiftly towards the entrance and the moon rising over the mountains straddled their long shadows in front of them across the white sandy floor.
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prescription
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| n.处方，开药；指示，规定 | |
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highland
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| n.(pl.)高地，山地 | |
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pals
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| n.朋友( pal的名词复数 )；老兄；小子；（对男子的不友好的称呼）家伙 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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spat
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| n.口角，掌击；v.发出呼噜呼噜声 | |
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perverse
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| adj.刚愎的；坚持错误的，行为反常的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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tilted
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| v. 倾斜的 | |
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dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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butt
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| n.笑柄；烟蒂；枪托；臀部；v.用头撞或顶 | |
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squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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snipped
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| v.剪( snip的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fore
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| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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deferentially
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| adv.表示敬意地，谦恭地 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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grunt
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| v.嘟哝；作呼噜声；n.呼噜声，嘟哝 | |
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enamel
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| n.珐琅，搪瓷，瓷釉；(牙齿的)珐琅质 | |
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elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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snarled
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的过去式和过去分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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crunched
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| v.嘎吱嘎吱地咬嚼( crunch的过去式和过去分词 )；嘎吱作响；（快速大量地）处理信息；数字捣弄 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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plaintively
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| adv.悲哀地，哀怨地 | |
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rumble
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| n.隆隆声；吵嚷；v.隆隆响；低沉地说 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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jaguar
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| n.美洲虎 | |
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radiator
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| n.暖气片，散热器 | |
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bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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swerve
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| v.突然转向，背离；n．转向，弯曲，背离 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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squeal
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| v.发出长而尖的声音；n.长而尖的声音 | |
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chassis
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| n.汽车等之底盘；（飞机的）起落架；炮底架 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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rammed
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| v.夯实（土等）( ram的过去式和过去分词 )；猛撞；猛压；反复灌输 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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boulder
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| n.巨砾；卵石，圆石 | |
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spotlight
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| n.公众注意的中心，聚光灯，探照灯，视听，注意，醒目 | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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slewed
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| adj.喝醉的v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮( slay的过去式 )( slew的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fiddled
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| v.伪造( fiddle的过去式和过去分词 )；篡改；骗取；修理或稍作改动 | |
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wrangling
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| v.争吵，争论，口角( wrangle的现在分词 ) | |
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gaped
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| v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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huddle
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| vi.挤作一团；蜷缩；vt.聚集；n.挤在一起的人 | |
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prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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59
lotion
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| n.洗剂 | |
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60
slumped
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| 大幅度下降，暴跌( slump的过去式和过去分词 )； 沉重或突然地落下[倒下] | |
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61
gritted
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| v.以沙砾覆盖（某物），撒沙砾于( grit的过去式和过去分词 )；咬紧牙关 | |
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62
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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63
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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