按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
'Yo next； Fatso；' said one of them as the bus came up out of the rain and stopped with a sigh from the great vacuum brakes。
'Ahm tahd；' said the thick…set man in the mackintosh。 But he pulled his hat down over his eyes and climbed aboard； slotted his coins and moved down the bus； scanning the occupants。 He blinked as he saw the two white men； walked on and took the seat directly behind them。
He examined the backs of their necks； their coats and hats and their profiles。 Bond sat next to the window。 The negro saw the reflection of his scar in the dark glass。
He got up and moved to the front of the bus without looking back。 At the next stop he got off the bus and made straight for the nearest drugstore。 He shut himself into the paybox。
Whisper questioned him urgently； then broke the connection。
He plugged in on the right of the board。
'Yes？' said the deep voice。
'Boss； one of them's just e in on Fifth。 The Limey with the scar。 Got a friend with him； but he don't seem to fit the dope on the other two。' Whisper passed on an accurate description of Leiter。 'ing north； both of them；' he gave the number and probable timing of the bus。
There was a pause。
'Right；' said the quiet voice。 'Call off all Eyes on the other avenues。 Warn the night spots that one of them's inside and get this to Tee…Hee Johnson； McThing； Blabbermouth Foley； Sam Miami and The Flannel。。。'
The voice spoke for five minutes。
'Got that？ Repeat。'
'Yes； Sir； Boss；' said The Whisper。 He glanced at his shorthand pad and whispered fluently and without a pause into the mouthpiece。
'Right。' The line went dead。
His eyes bright； The Whisper took up a fistful of plugs and started talking to the town。
From the moment that Bond and Leiter walked under the canopy of Sugar Ray's on Seventh Avenue at 12 3rd Street there was a team of men and women watching them or waiting to watch them； speaking softly to The Whisper at the big switchboard on the Riverside Exchange； handing them on towards the rendezvous。 In a world where they were naturally the focus of attention； neither Bond nor Leiter felt the hidden machine nor sensed the tension around them。
In the famous night…spot the stools against the long bar were crowded； but one of the small booths against the wall was empty and Bond and Leiter slipped into the two seats with the narrow table between them。
They ordered Scotch…and…soda … Haig and Haig Pinch…bottle。 Bond looked the crowd over。 It was nearly all men。
There were two or three whites； boxing fans or reporters for the New York sports columns； Bond decided。 The atmosphere was warmer； louder than downtown。 The walls were covered with boxing photographs； mostly of Sugar Ray Robinson and of scenes from his great fights。 It was a cheerful place； doing great business。
'He was a wise guy； Sugar Ray；' said Leiter。 'Let's hope we both know when to stop when the time es。 He stashed plenty away and now he's adding to his pile on the music halls。 His percentage of this place must be worth a packet and he owns a lot of real estate around here。 He works hard still； but it's not the sort of work that sends you blind or gives you a haemorrhage of the brain。 He quit while he was still alive。'
'He'll probably back a Broadway show and lose it all；' said Bond。 'If I quit now and went in for fruit…farming in Kent； I'd most likely hit the worst weather since the Thames froze over； and be cleaned out。 One can't plan for everything。'
'One can try；' said Leiter。 'But I know what you mean …better the frying…pan you know than the fire you don't。 It isn't a bad life when it consists of sitting in a fortable bar drinking good whisky。 How do you like this corner of the jungle？' He leant forward。 'Just listen in to the couple behind you。 From what I've heard they're straight out of 〃Nigger Heaven〃。'
Bond glanced carefully over his shoulder。
The booth behind him contained a handsome young negro in an expensive fawn suit with exaggerated shoulders。 He was lolling back against the wall with one foot up on the bench beside him。 He was paring the nails of his left hand with a small silver pocket…knife； occasionally glancing in bored fashion towards the animation at the bar。 His head rested on the back of the booth just behind Bond and a whiff of expensive hair…straightener came from him。 Bond took in the artificial parting traced with a razor across the left side of the scalp； through the almost straight hair which was a tribute to his mother's constant application of the hot b since childhood。 The plain black silk tie and the white shirt were in good taste。
Opposite him； leaning forward with concern on her pretty face； was a sexy little negress with a touch of white blood in her。 Her jet…black hair； as sleek as the best permanent wave； framed a sweet almond…shaped face with rather slanting eyes under finely drawn eyebrows。 The deep purple of her parted； sensual lips was thrilling against the bronze skin。 All that Bond could see of her clothes was the bodice of a black satin evening dress； tight and revealing across the firm； small breasts。 She wore a plain gold chain round her neck and a plain gold band round each thin wrist。
She was pleading anxiously and paid no heed to Bond's quick embracing glance。
'Listen and see if you can get the hang of it；' said Leiter。 'It's straight Harlem … Deep South with a lot of New York thrown in。'
Bond picked up the menu and leant back in the booth； studying the Special Fried Chicken Dinner at 3。75。
'Cmon； honey；' wheedled the girl。 'How e yuh…all's actin' so tahd tonight？'
'Guess ah jist nacherlly gits tahd listenin' at yuh；' said the man languidly。 'Why'nt yuh hush yo' mouff'n let me 'joy mahself 'n peace 'n qui…yet。'
'Is yuh wan' me tuh go 'way； honey？'
'Yuh kin suit yo sweet self。'
'Aw； honey；' pleaded the girl。 'Don' ack mad at me； honey。 Ah was fixin' tuh treat yuh tonight。 Take yuh tuh Smalls Par'dise； mebbe。 See dem high…yallers shakin' 'n truckin'。 Dat Birdie Johnson； da maitre d'； he permis me a ringside whenebber Ah e nex'。'
The man's voice suddenly sharpened。 'Wha' dat Birdie he mean tuh yuh； hey？' he asked suspiciously。 Terzackly；' he paused to let the big word sink in； 'perzackly wha' goes'tween yuh 'n dat lowdown ornery wuthless Nigguh？ Yuh sleepin' wid him mebbe？ Guess Ah gotta study 'bout dat little situayshun'tween yuh an' Birdie Johnson。 Mebbe git mahself a betterer gal。 Ah jist don' lak gals which runs off ever' which way when Ah jist happen be busticated tem…poraneously。 Yesmam。 Ah gotta study 'bout dat little situayshun。' He paused threateningly。 'Sure have；' he added。
'Aw； honey；' the girl was anxious。 ' 'dey ain't no use tryin' tuh git mad at me。 Ah done nuthen tuh give yuh recasion tuh ack dat way。 Ah jist thunk you mebbe preshiate a ringside at da Par'disc 'nstead of settin' hyah countin' yo troubles。 Why； honey； yuh all knows Ah wudden fall fo' dat richcrat ack' of Birdie Johnson。 No sir。 He don' mean nuthen tuh me。 Him duh wusstes' man 'n Harlem； dawg bite me effn he ain't。 All da same； he permis me da bestess seats 'nda house 'n Ah sez let's us go set 'n dem； 'n have us a beer 'n a good time。 Gmon； honey。 Let's git out of hyah。 Yuh done look so