‘D’you want a race riot?’ objected Dexter sourly. ‘There’s nothing against him and you know it, and we know it. If he wasn’t sprung in half an hour by that black mouthpiece of his, those Voodoo drums would start beating from here to the Deep South. When they’re full of that stuff we all know what happens. Remember ’35 and ’43? You’d have to call out the Militia. We didn’t ask for the case. The President gave it us and we’ve got to stick with it.’
They were back in Binswanger’s drab office. They picked up their coats and hats.
‘Anyway, thanks for the help, Lootenant,’ said Dexter with forced cordiality, as they made their farewells. ‘Been most valuable.’
‘You’re welcome,’ said Binswanger stonily. ‘Elevator’s to your right.’ He closed the door firmly behind them.
Leiter winked at Bond behind Dexter’s back. They rode down to the main entrance on Centre Street in silence.
On the sidewalk, Dexter turned to them.
‘Had some instructions from Washington this morning,’ he said unemotionally. ‘Seems I’m to look after the Harlem end, and you two are to go down to St. Petersburg tomorrow. Leiter’s to find out what he can there and then move right on to Jamaica with you, Mr. Bond. That is,’ he added, ‘if you’d care to have him along. It’s your territory.’
‘Of course,’ said Bond. ‘I was going to ask if he could come anyway.’
‘Fine,’ said Dexter. Then I’ll tell Washington everything’s fixed. Anything else I can do for you? All communications with FBI, Washington, of course. Leiter’s got the names of our men in Florida, knows the Signals routine and so forth.’
‘If Leiter’s interested and if you don’t mind,’ said Bond, ‘I’d like very much to get up to Harlem this evening and have a look round. Might help to have some idea of what it looks like in Mr. Big’s back yard.’
Dexter reflected.
‘Okay,’ he said finally. ‘Probably no harm. But don’t show yourselves too much. And don’t get hurt,’ lie added. ‘There’s no one to help you up there. And don’t go stirring up a lot of trouble for us. This case isn’t ripe yet. Until it is, our policy with Mr. Big is “live and let live”.’
Bond looked quizzically at Captain Dexter.
‘In my job,’ he said, ‘when I come up against a man like this one, I have another motto. It’s “live and let die”.’
Dexter shrugged his shoulders. ‘Maybe,’ he said, ‘but you’re under my orders here, Mr. Bond, and I’d be glad if you’d accept them.’
‘Of course,’ said Bond, ‘and thanks for all your help. Hope you have luck with your end of the job.’
Dexter flagged a cab. They shook hands.
‘Bye, fellers,’ said Dexter briefly. ‘Stay alive.’ His cab pulled out into the uptown traffic.
Bond and Leiter smiled at each other.
‘Able guy, I should say,’ said Bond.
They’re all that in his show,’ said Leiter. ‘Bit inclined to be stuffed shirts. Very touchy about their rights. Always bickering with us or with the police. But I guess you have much the same problem in England.’
‘Oh of course,’ said Bond. ‘We’re always rubbing MI 5 up the wrong way. And they’re always stepping on the corns of the Special Branch. Scotland Yard,’ he explained. ‘Well, how about going up to Harlem tonight?’
‘Suits me,’ said Leiter. ‘I’ll drop you at the St. Regis and pick you up again about six-thirty. Meet you in the King Cole Bar, on the ground floor. Guess you want to take a look at Mr. Big,’ he grinned. ‘Well, so do I, but it wouldn’t have done to tell Dexter so.’ He flagged a Yellow Cab.
‘St. Regis Hotel. Fifth at 55th.’
They climbed into the overheated tin box reeking of last week’s cigar-smoke.
Leiter wound down a window.
‘Whaddya want ter do?’ asked the driver over his shoulder. ‘Gimme pneumony?’
‘Just that,’ said Leiter, ‘if it means saving us from this gas chamber.’
‘Wise guy, hn?’ said the driver, crashing tinnily through his gears. He took the chewed end of a cigar from behind his ear and held it up. ‘Two bits for three,’ he said in a hurt voice.