When he spoke, my heart leaped. He was English! "I'm sorry. I've got a puncture." (An American would have said "a flat.") "And I saw the VACANCY sign. Can I have a room for the night?" Now he looked at me with curiosity, seeing that something was wrong.
This was going to be tricky! I might easily get us both killed. I said, "I'm sorry, but the motel's closed. The VACANCY sign was on by mistake." While I said this, I crooked the index finger of the hand at my chest, inviting him in. He looked puzzled. I had to give him a lead. "Is the puncture so bad that you can't get as far as Lake George?"
"Couldn't possibly. I've already come a mile on the run. The cover'll be gone by now."
I imperceptibly jerked my head backward, bidding him to come in. "Well, the insurance men are here from the owner. I'll have to ask them. You wait there." Again I beckoned with my finger. Then I turned and took two steps inside, keeping close to the door so that neither of them could bang it shut. But they were standing back, hands in their pockets, looking different kinds of hell at me. The man in the raincoat had taken my hint, and he was now well inside. When he saw the two men, his face somehow sharpened, but he said casually, "I expect you heard all that. Any objection to my spending the night here?"
Sluggsy said contemptuously, "Kerist! A limey! What is this, the United Nations?"
The thin man said curtly, "No dice, friend. You heard the lady. The motel's closed. We'll give you a hand changing the wheel and you can be on your way."
The Englishman said easily, "It's a bit late at night for that. I'm heading south and I doubt if there's anything on this road this side of Glens Falls. I think I'd prefer to stay here. After all, the VACANCY sign's on."
"You heard me, mister." Horror's voice was now tough. He turned to Sluggsy. "C'mon. We'll give the guy a hand with his flat." They both took a step toward the door. But the Englishman, bless him, stood his ground.
"It happens that I have friends at Albany, quite important friends. You wouldn't want to lose your motel operator's license, would you? The sign said VACANCY and the place is lit up. I'm tired and I claim a room." He turned to me. "Would that give you any trouble?"
I gushed. "Oh, no! None at all. It won't take me a minute to get a room ready. I'm sure Mr. Sanguinetti wouldn't want to do anything to lose his license?" I turned, wide-eyed and innocent, toward the two gangsters. They looked as if they were just about to pull their guns, but the thin man moved away, and Sluggsy followed him, and they talked for a moment in whispers. I took the opportunity to nod urgently and appealingly at the Englishman, and he gave me another of those reassuring smiles.
The thin man turned round. "Okay, limey. You can have the room. But just don't try and lean on us with that Albany guff. Mr. Sanguinetti has friends at the capital too. Mebbe you got a point with that VACANCY sign. But don't push your luck. We're in charge here and what we says goes. Right?"
"That's all right with me. And thanks. I'll get my bag."
He moved to go out. I said quickly, "I'll give you a hand." I hurried ahead of him, tugging furiously at my zip, feeling ashamed of how I must have looked. Blessedly, it suddenly yielded and I pulled it up to my throat.
He came up with me. I said urgently, out of the corner of my mouth—I was sure one of them had come to the door and was watching us—"Thank you! And thank God you came! They were going to murder me. But for God's sake look out. They're gangsters. I don't know what they want. It must be something bad. They shot at me when I tried to escape."
We came to the car. It was a dark gray two-seater Thunderbird with a soft top in cream, a beautiful thing. I said so. He said shortly that it was hired. He said, "Come round the other side. Just seem to be admiring the car." He leaned down and opened the low door and rummaged inside. He said, "Are they both armed?"
"Yes."
"How many guns each?"
"Don't know. The small one's a crack shot. At twenty feet or so. Don't know about the other."
He pulled out a small black suitcase, rested it on the ground, and snapped it open. He took something from under the clothes and slipped it into an inside pocket. He fiddled with one side of the case, took some thin black objects out that I took to be cartridge magazines, and stowed them away. Then he snapped the case shut, said, "Better have plenty of artillery," banged the door ostentatiously, and stood up. We then both went to the back of the car and knelt down to examine the flat tire. He said, "How about the telephone?"
"It's cut off."
"Give me the cabin next to yours."
"Of course."
"All right. Let's go. And keep close to me, whatever they do or say."
"Yes, and thank you."
He got up and smiled. "Wait till we're out of this."
We walked back together. Sluggsy, who had been standing in the doorway, shut the door after us and locked it. As an afterthought, he reached up and switched off the VACANCY sign. He said, "Here's your key, limey," and threw it on a table.
I picked it up and looked at the number. Forty, the last one along to the left. I said firmly, "The gentleman's going to have Number 10, next to mine," and walked over to the desk, forgetting that Sluggsy had all the other keys.
Sluggsy had followed me. He grinned. "No dice, baby. We don't know nuthin' about this guy. So Horror and me's sleepin' either side of you. Just to see you're not disturbed. Rest of the keys is put away ready for the move. There's just this Number 40 and nuthin' else." He turned to the Englishman. "Hey, limey. What's your name?"
"Bond. James Bond."
"That's a pretty chump name. From England, huh?"
"That's right Where's the registry? I'll spell it out for you."
"Wise guy, huh? What's your line of business?"
"Police."
Sluggsy's mouth opened. He ran his tongue over his lips. He turned and called over to Horror, who was sitting at his old table, "Hey, Horror. Guess what! This shamus is a limey dick! Whadya know about that? A gumshoe!"
Horror nodded. "Thought I smelled it. Who cares? We ain't done nuthin' wrong."
"Yeh," said Sluggsy eagerly, "that's right too." He turned to this Mr. Bond. "Now don't you go listening to any crap from this little hustler. We're from the insurance, see. Assessors, sort of. Work for Mr. Sanguinetti. He's a big wheel in Troy. Owns this outfit. Well, there'd been complaints from the managers of some cash missing. Other things too. So we come up to make an investigation, sort of, and when we put the question to this little tramp she slams my friend with an ice-pick bang on the think-pot. See for yourself." He waved in the direction of Horror. "Now how d'ya like that? So we was just restraining her, sort of, when you comes along." He turned. "Ain't that right, Horror?"
"That's on the level. That's how it was."
I said angrily, "You know that's a pack of lies." I walked over to the back door and pointed at the bent frame and the splash of lead, "How did that bullet hole get there?"
Sluggsy laughed heartily. "Search me, sister." He turned to Horror. "You seen any bullets flyin' around?"
"No, I ain't." Horror's voice was bored. He waved a languid hand toward the floor round the eating counter. "But I seen plenty hardware being slung at my pal by the lady." His eyes swiveled slowly to me. "That right, lady? An' there's a big carving knife down there somewhere. Good mind to book you for assault, come the morning."
"You do that!" I said hotly. "Just see where it'll get you! You know perfectly well I was trying to defend myself. And as for that story about the money, that's the first I've heard of it. And you know it."
The Englishman broke in quietly. "Well, it seems I came along at the right time to keep the peace. Now, where's that registry so that I can sign it?"
Sluggsy said curtly, "Register's with de boss. No purpose in signin' nuthin'. You ain't payin'. The place is closed. You can have your bed on the house."
"Well, thanks. That's very kind of you." James Bond turned to me. "Any chance of some eggs and bacon and coffee? All this talking's made me hungry. I can cook it myself if the stuff's there."