if.goldfinger-第25章
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to which there would be a quick reply。 Bond shrugged his shoulders to lighten his thoughts and went up the steps to the opaque glass…panelled door and pressed the bell。 There was no noise of it ringing； but the door slowly opened。 The Korean chauffeur still had his bowler hat on。 He looked without interest at Bond。 He stood motionless； his left hand on the inside doorknob and his outstretched right pointing like a signpost into the dark hall of the house。
Bond walked past him； vanquishing a desire either to stamp on his neat black feet or hit him very hard indeed in the centre of his tightly buttoned black stomach。 This Korean matched up with what he had always heard about Koreans； and anyway Bond wanted to do something violent to the heavy； electric atmosphere of the house。
The gloomy hall was also the main living…room。 A meagre fire flickered behind the fire…irons in the wide hearth and two club chairs and a Knole sofa stood impassively watching the flames。 Between them on a low settee was a well…stocked drink tray。 The wide spaces surrounding this spark of life were crowded with massive Rothschildian pieces of furniture of the Second Empire； and ormolu； tortoiseshell； brass and mother…of…pearl winked back richly at the small fire。 Behind this orderly museum； dark panelling ran up to a first…floor gallery which was reached by a heavy curved stairway to the left of the hall。 The ceiling was laced with the sombre woodcarving of the period。
Bond was standing taking all this in when the Korean came silently up。 He flung out his signpost of an arm towards the drink tray and the chairs。 Bond nodded and stayed where he was。 The Korean walked past him and disappeared through a door into what Bond assumed were the servants' quarters。 The silence； helped by the slow iron tick of a massively decorated grandfather clock； gathered and crept nearer。
Bond walked over and stood with his back to the poor fire。 He stared offensively back at the room。 What a dump！ What a bloody awful deathly place to live in。 How did one； could one； live in this rich heavy morgue among the conifers and evergreens when a hundred yards away there was light and air and wide horizons？ Bond took out a cigarette and lit it。 What did Goldfinger do for enjoyment； for fun； for sex？ Perhaps he didn't need these things。 Perhaps the pursuit of gold slaked all his thirsts。
Somewhere in the distance a telephone rang。 The bell shrilled twice and stopped。 There was the murmur of a voice； then steps echoed down a passage and a door under the stairway opened。 Goldfinger came through and quietly closed the door behind him。 He was wearing a plum…coloured velvet dinner jacket。 He came slowly across the polished wood floor。 He didn't hold out his hand。 He said； smiling with his mouth； 'It was kind of you to e at such short notice； Mr Bond。 You were alone and so was I and it occurred to me that we might discuss the price of corn。'
It was the sort of remark that rich men make to each other。 Bond was amused at being made a temporary member of the club。 He said； 'I was delighted to get the invitation。 I was already bored with worrying over my problems。 Ramsgate hasn't much to offer。'
'No。 And now I have an apology to make。 I have had a telephone call。 One of my staff … I employ Koreans； by the way … has had some minor trouble with the Margate police and I must go over and straighten it out。 Some incident at the fun fair； I understand。 These people get easily overexcited。 My chauffeur will drive me and we should not be more than half an hour。 Meanwhile I fear I must leave you to your own devices。 Please help yourself to drinks。 There are magazines to read。 Will you forgive me？ Not more than half an hour I assure you。'
'That's quite all right。' Bond felt there was something fishy in this。 He couldn't put his finger on what it was。
'Well then； au revoir。' Goldfinger went to the front door。 'But I must give you some light。 It's really very dark in here。' Goldfinger brushed his hand down a wall…plate of switches and suddenly lights blazed all over the hall … from standard lamps； wall brackets； and four clusters in the ceiling。 Now the room was as bright as a film studio。 It was an extraordinary transformation。 Bond； half dazzled； watched Goldfinger open the front door and stride out。 In a minute he heard the sound of a car； but not the Rolls； rev up noisily； change gear and go off fast down the drive。
On an instinct； Bond walked over to the front door and opened it。 The drive was empty。 In the distance he saw the lights of the car turn left…handed on the main road and make off in the direction of Margate。 He turned back into the house and closed the door。 He stood still； listening。 The silence； except for the heavy clock…tick； was plete。 He walked across to the service door and opened it。 A long dark passage disappeared towards the back of the house。 Bond bent forward； all his senses alert。 Silence； dead silence。 Bond shut the door and looked thoughtfully round the brilliantly lit hall。 He had been left alone in Goldfinger's house； alone with its secrets。 Why？
Bond walked over to the drink tray and poured himself a strong gin and tonic。 There certainly had been a telephone call； but it could easily have been an arranged call from the factory。 The story of the servant was plausible and it was reasonable that Goldfinger should go himself to bail the man out and take his chauffeur with him。 Goldfinger had twice mentioned that Bond would be alone for half an hour during which he 'would be left to his own devices'。 This could be innocent； or it could be an invitation for Bond to show his hand； mit some indiscretion。 Was somebody watching him？ How many of these Koreans were there and what were they doing？ Bond glanced at his watch。 Five minutes had gone。 He made up his mind。 Trap or no trap； this was too good a chance to miss。 He would have a quick look round…but an innocent one； with some sort of a cover story to explain why he had left the hall。 Where should he begin？ A
look at the factory。 His story？ That his car had given trouble on the way over … choked petrol feed probably … and that he had gone to see if there was a mechanic who could give him a hand。 Flimsy； but it would do。 Bond downed his drink and went purposefully to the service door and walked through。
There was a light switch。 He turned on the light and walked swiftly down a long passage。 It ended with a blank wall and two doors to right and left。 He listened for an instant at the left…hand one and heard muffled kitchen noises。 He opened the right…hand door and found himself in the paved garage yard he might have expected。 The only odd thing about it was that it was brilliantly lit by arc lights。 The long wall of the factory occupied the far side and now the rhythmic engine thump was very loud。 There was a plain wooden door low down in the wall opposite。 Bond walked across the yard to it； looking around him with casual interest。 The door was unlocked。 He opened it with discretion and walked through； leaving the door ajar。 He found himself in a small empty office lit by one naked bulb hanging from the ceiling。 There was a desk with papers on it； a time…clock； a couple of filing cabinets and a telephone。 Another door led from the office into the main factory space and there was a window beside the door for keeping an eye on the workmen。 It would be the foreman's office。 Bond walked to the window and looked through。
Bond didn't know what he had expected； but there seemed to be the usual accoutrements of a small metal…working business。 Facing him were the open mouths of two blast furnaces； their fires now drawn。 Beside these stood a row of kilns for the molten metal； of which sheets of different sizes and colours stood against the wall near by。 There was the polished steel table of a circular saw； a diamond saw presumably； for cutting the sheets； and to the left in the shadows a big oil engine connected to a generator pounding away making power。 To the right； under arc lights； a group of five men in overalls； four of them Koreans； were at work on … of all things … Goldfinger's Rolls Royce。 It stood there gleaming under the lights； immaculate save for the right…hand door which had been taken off its hing
