if.liveandletdie-第26部分

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　coast　called　Vero　Beach。　Papers　were　in　order　and　charter　pany　was　such　a　small　one　the　FBI　had　not　bothered　to　include　them　when　they　put　the　watch　on　all　airports。　Arrival　had　been　reported　by　the　c　i　A　man　in　Cuba。　Yes；　too　bad。　Yes；　the　Secatur　was　still　there。　No　sailing　date。　Well；　too　bad　about　Leiter。　Fine　man。　Hope　he　makes　out。　So　Bond　would　be　hi　Jamaica　tomorrow？　Okay。　Sorry　things　been　so　hectic。　'Bye。
　Bond　thought　for　a　while；　then　he　picked　up　the　telephone　and　spoke　briefly　to　a　man　at　the　Eastern　Garden　Aquarium　at　Miami　and　consulted　him　about　buying　a　live　shark　to　keep　in　an　ornamental　lagoon。
　'Only　place　I　ever　heard　of　is　right　near　you　now；　Mr。　Bryce；'　said　the　helpful　voice。　'　〃Ourobouros　Worm　and　Bait。〃　They　got　sharks。　Big　ones。　Do　business　with　foreign　zoos　and　suchlike。　White；　Tiger；　even　Hammerheads。　They'll　be　glad　to　help　you。　Costs　a　lot　to　feed　'em。　You're　wele。　Any　time　you're　passing。　'Bye。'
　Bond　took　out　his　gun　and　cleaned　it；　waiting　for　the　night。
　
　CHAPTER　XV
　MIDNIGHT　AMONG　THE　WORMS
　
　ABOUND　six　Bond　packed　his　bag　and　paid　the　check。　Mrs。　Stuyvesant　was　glad　to　see　the　last　of　him。　The　Everglades　hadn't　experienced　such　alarums　since　the　last　hurricane。
　Leiter's　car　was　back　on　the　Boulevard　and　he　drove　it　over　to　the　town。　He　visited　a　hardware　store　and　made　various　purchases。　Then　he　had　the　biggest　steak；　rare；　with　French　fried；　he　had　ever　seen。　It　was　a　small　grill　called　Pete's；　dark　and　friendly。　He　drank　a　quarter　of　a　pint　of　Old　Grandad　with　the　steak　and　had　two　cups　of　very　strong　coffee。　With　all　this　under　his　belt　he　began　to　feel　more　sanguine。
　He　spun　out　the　meal　and　the　drinks　until　nine　o'clock。　Then　he　studied　a　map　of　the　city　and　took　the　car　and　made　a　wide　detour　that　brought　him　within　a　block　of　The　Robber's　wharf　from　the　south。　He　ran　the　car　down　to　the　sea　and　got　out。
　It　was　a　bright　moonlit　night　and　the　buildings　and　warehouses　threw　great　blocks　of　indigo　shadow。　The　whole　section　seemed　deserted　and　there　was　no　sound　except　the　quiet　lapping　of　the　small　waves　against　the　seawall　and　water　gurgling　under　the　empty　wharves。
　The　top　of　the　low　sea…wall　was　about　three　feet　wide。　It　was　in　shadow　for　the　hundred　yards　or　more　that　separated　him　from　the　long　black　outline　of　the　Ourobouros　warehouse。
　Bond　climbed　on　to　it　and　walked　carefully　and　silently　along　between　the　buildings　and　the　sea。　As　he　got　nearer　a　steady；　high…pitched　whine　became　louder；　and　by　the　time　he　dropped　down　on　the　wide　cement　parking　space　at　the　back　of　the　building　it　was　a　muted　scream。　Bond　had　expected　something　of　the　sort。　The　noise　came　from　the　air…pumps　and　heating　systems　which　he　knew　would　be　necessary　to　keep　the　fish　healthy　through　the　chill　of　the　night　hours。　He　had　also　relied　on　the　fact　that　most　of　the　roof　would　certainly　be　of　glass　to　admit　sunlight　during　the　day。　Also　that　there　would　be　good　ventilation。
　He　was　not　disappointed。　The　whole　of　the　south　wall　of　the　warehouse；　from　just　above　the　level　of　his　head；　was　of　plate　glass；　and　through　it　he　could　see　the　moon…light　shining　down　through　half　an　acre　of　glass　roofing。　High　up　above　him；　and　well　out　of　reach；　broad　windows　were　open　to　the　night　air。　There　was；　as　he　and　Leiter　had　expected；　a　small　door　low　down；　but　it　was　locked　and　bolted　and　leaded　wires　near　the　hinges　suggested　some　form　of　burglar…alarm。
　Bond　was　not　interested　in　the　door。　Following　his　hunch；　he　had　e　equipped　for　an　entry　through　glass。　He　cast　about　for　something　that　would　raise　him　an　extra　two　feet。　In　a　land　where　litter　and　junk　are　so　much　a　part　of　the　landscape　he　soon　found　what　he　wanted。　It　was　a　discarded　heavy　gauge　tyre。　He　rolled　it　to　the　wall　of　the　warehouse　away　from　the　door　and　took　off　his　shoes。
　He　put　bricks　against　the　bottom　edges　of　the　tyre　to　hold　it　steady　and　hoisted　himself　up。　The　steady　scream　of　the　pumps　gave　him　protection　and　he　at　once　set　to　work　with　a　small　glass…cutter　which　he　had　bought；　together　with　a　hunk　of　putty；　on　his　way　to　dinner。　When　he　had　cut　down　the　two　vertical　sides　of　one　of　the　yard…square　panes；　he　pressed　the　putty　against　the　centre　of　the　glass　and　worked　it　to　a　protruding　knob。　He　then　went　to　work　on　the　lateral　edges　of　the　pane。
　While　he　worked　he　gazed　through　into　the　moonlit　vistas　of　the　huge　repository。　The　endless　rows　of　tanks　stood　on　wooden　trestles　with　narrow　passages　between。　Down　the　centre　of　the　building　there　was　a　wider　passage。　Under　the　trestles　Bond　could　see　long　tanks　and　trays　let　into　the　floor。　Just　below　him；　broad　racks　covered　with　regiments　of　sea…shells　jutted　out　from　the　walls。　Most　of　the　tanks　were　dark　but　in　some　a　tiny　strip　of　electric　light　glimmered　spectrally　and　glinted　on　little　fountains　of　bubbles　rising　from　the　weeds　and　sand。　There　was　a　light　metal　runway　suspended　from　the　roof　over　each　row　of　tanks　and　Bond　guessed　that　any　individual　tank　could　be　lifted　out　and　brought　to　the　exit　for　shipment　or　to　extract　sick　fish　for　quarantine。　It　was　a　window　into　a　queer　world　and　into　a　queer　business。　It　was　odd　to　think　of　all　the　worms　and　eels　and　fish　stirring　quietly　in　the　night；　the　thousands　of　gills　sighing　and　the　multitude　of　antennae　waving　and　pointing　and　transmitting　their　tiny　radar　signals　to　the　dozing　nerve…centres。
　After　a　quarter　of　an　hour's　meticulous　work　there　was　a　slight　cracking　noise　and　the　pane　came　away　attached　to　the　putty　knob　in　his　hand。
　He　climbed　down　and　put　the　pane　carefully　on　the　ground　away　from　the　tyre。　Then　he　stuffed　his　shoes　inside　his　shirt。　With　only　one　good　hand　they　might　be　vital　weapons。　He　listened。　There　was　no　sound　but　the　unfaltering　whine　of　the　pumps。　He　looked　up　to　see　if　by　chance　there　were　any　clouds　about　to　cross　the　moon；　but　the　sky　was　empty　save　for　its　canopy　of　brightly　burning　stars。　He　got　back　on　top　of　the　tyre　and　with　an　easy　heave　half　of　his　body　was　through　the　wide　hole　he　had　made。
　He　turned　and　grasped　the　metal　frame　above　his　head　and　putting　all　his　weight　on　his　arms　he　jack…knifed　his　legs　through　and　down　so　that　they　were　hanging　a　few　inches　above　the　racks　full　of　shells。　He　lowered　himself　until　he　could　feel　the　backs　of　the　shells　with　his　stockinged　toes；　then　he　softly　separated　them　with　his　toes　until　he　had　exposed　a　width　of　board。　Then　he　let　his　whole　weight　subside　softly　on　to　the　tray。　It　held；　and　in　a　moment　he　was　down　on　the　floor　listening　with　all　his　senses　for　any　noise　behind　the　whine　of　the　machinery。
　But　there　was　none。　He　took　his　steel…tipped　shoes　out　of　his　shirt　and　left　them　on　the　cleared　board；　then　he　moved　off　on　the　concrete　floor　with　a　pencil　flashlight　in　his　hand。
　He　was　in　the　aquarium…fish　section；　and　as　he　examined　the　labels　he　caught　flashes　of　coloured　light　from　the　deep　tanks　and　occasionally　a　piece　of　living　jewellery　would　materialize　and　briefly　goggle　at　him　before　he　moved　on。
　There　were　all　kinds　…　Swordtails；　Guppies；　Platys；　Terras；　Neons；　Cichlids；　Labyrinth　and　Paradise　fish；　and　every　variety　of　exotic　Goldfish。　Underneath；　sunk　in　the　floor；　and　most　of　them　covered　with　chicken　wire；　there　were　tray　upon　tray　swarming　and　heaving　with　worms　and　baits：　white　worms；　micro　worms；　Daphnia；　shrimp；　and　thick　slimy　clam　worms。　From　these　ground　tanks；　forests　of　tiny　eyes　looked　up　at　his　torch。
　There　was　the　foetid　smell　of　a　mangrove　swamp　in　the　air　and　the　temperature　was　in　the　high　seventies。　Soon　Bond　began　to　sweat　slightly　and　to　long　for　the　clean　night　air。
　He　had　moved　to　the　central　passage…way　before　he　found　the　poison　fish　which　were　one　of　his　objectives。　When　he　had　read　about　them　in　the　files　of　the　Police　Headquarters　in　New　York；　he　had　made　a　mental　note　that　he　would　like　to　know　more　about　this　sideline　of　the　peculiar　business　of　Ourobouros　Inc。
　Here　the　tanks　were　smaller　and　there　was　generally　only　one　specimen　in　each。　Here　the　eyes　that　looked　sluggishly　at　Bond　were　cold　and　hooded　and　an　occasional　fang　was　bared　at　the　torch　or　a　spined　backbone　slowly　swelled。
　Each　tank　bore　an　ominous　skull…and…crossbones　in　chalk　and　there　were　large　labels　that　said　VERY　DANGEROUS　and　KEEP　OFF。
　There　must　have　been　at　least　a　hundred　tanks　of　various　sizes；　from　the　large　ones　to　hold　Torpedo　Skates　and　the　sinister　Guitar　Fish；　to　smaller　ones　for　the　Horse…killer　Eel；　Mud　Fish　from　the　Pacific；　and　the　monstrous　West　Indian　Scorpion　Fish；　each　of　whose　spines　has　a　poison　sac　as　powerful　as　a　rattlesnake's。
　Bond's　eyes　narrowed　as　he　noticed　that　in　all　the　dangerous　tanks　the　mud　or　sand　on　the　bottom　occupied　nearly　half　the　tank。
　He　chose　a　tank　containing　a　six…inch　Scorpion　Fish。　He　knew　something　of　the　habits　of　this　deadly　species　and　in　particular　that　they　do　not　strike；　but　poison　only　on　contact。
　The　top　of　the　tank　was　on　a　level　with　his　waist。　He　took　out　a　strong　pocket…knife　he　had　purchased　and　opened　the　longest　blade。　Then　he　leant　over　the　tank　and　with　'。
　sleeve　rolled　up　he　deliberately　aimed　his　knife　at　the　centre　of　the　craggy　head　between　the　overhung　grottoes　of　the　eye…sockets。　As　his　hand　broke　the　surf