Ian Fleming - Chitty Chitty Bang Bang

After they had been made to pull out the linings of their pockets to show that nothing was hidden, Joe the Monster said, “All right, kiddies, let’s go. Remember what you’ve got to do—you just walk into the shop and ask for a box of chocolates for four thousand francs, right?” And they trooped out, with Man-Mountain Fink taking up the rear to prevent any attempt to escape.

They piled into the black tourer and were soon roaring off through the streets to where, in the distance, the Eiffel Tower, which is a gigantic tower made of iron right in the middle of Paris, stood up like a huge needle in the sky.

Jeremy kept an eye on the clocks on churches and shops, and he saw that the minutes were hurrying on toward twelve o’clock when, as Joe the Monster had said, Monsieur Bon-Bon closed his shop for the morning. And, sure enough, as they passed a gleaming shop window with the huge words “BON-BON” inscribed above it in gold, and turned down the next side street and stopped, Jeremy heard some distant clock begin the first chimes of twelve.

The door of the car was thrown open, and they were hustled out on to the pavement. “Run! Run!” said Joe the Monster, furiously. “We’re late and he’ll be shutting up his shop. Now don’t forget, do exactly what I told you and you’ll come to no trouble. If not,” and he lifted a big hairy fist as Jeremy and Jemima sped off round the corner.

Sure enough, the doors of Monsieur Bon-Bon’s brilliantly lit shop were just closing as they dashed up, and they had no chance to examine the row upon row of delicious candies and chocolates temptingly arrayed in the long window.

A great wave of delicious chocolate smell hit them as they edged in past the closing door, and there was a charming little old man in an old-fashioned suit with an apron round his fat tummy and a long white beard and whiskers, almost like Father Christmas.

He beamed down at the two children and let the door stand open.

“Qu’est-ce que vous désirez?” And from the lift of his eyebrows, the children guessed he was saying, “What do you desire?” Jeremy, panting from the run, managed to stammer out, “A box of chocolate, please, for four thousand francs.”

“Aie!” exclaimed Monsieur Bon-Bon. “quatre mille francs—zat ees a very beeg box of chocolates,” and he moved over to the counter on which there was an endless array of beautiful boxes tied with huge colored ribbons.

He picked out one, “You like zees one? She is mixed-up chocolates.”

Jeremy and Jemima stifled a desire to giggle at his funny English, but it wasn’t difficult to stifle the giggle for they knew the danger wasn’t over yet and that the terrifying part of the adventure was still to come.

“Oh, yes, please,” said Jeremy quickly, and, at the same time, over Monsieur Bon-Bon’s shoulder, he saw the sly face of Soapy Sam gazing in through the window past all the luscious array of candies and chocolates.

Monsieur Bon-Bon, who was used to the indecision of children and the time they took to make up their minds, looked rather surprised, but he walked behind the counter to wrap up the box and Jeremy followed him and held out with, I admit, a rather trembling hand, the five-thousand-franc note, while Jemima stood beside him biting her knuckles and almost jumping up and down with excitement.

Monsieur Bon-Bon took the note and, as the children had expected, he at once opened it up and felt the holes in it. He looked at them suspiciously, and seeing the urgency and excitement on their faces and somehow smelling a rat, he lifted the note up to the light and softly spelled out the letters one by one. “Gangsters,” whispered Jeremy. “Gangsters outside,” and he jerked his head toward the door.

Monsieur Bon-Bon was suddenly transformed from a delightful old Father Christmas into a man of action. Without a word, he ran, surprisingly quickly for an old man, across the shop to the door and bolted and barred it, then he pressed down quickly on a big lever beside the door and the steel shutters of the shop rattled down outside, but not before the children had caught a last glimpse of Soapy Sam’s face, now contorted into a furious snarl.

Then Monsieur Bon-Bon darted back behind the counter and picked up the telephone, excitedly shouting a lot of French down it amongst which Jeremy and Jemima heard the word “police” used several times. Then Monsieur Bon-Bon put the receiver back on the hook and came round and stood looking down at the children for a minute or two.

Then he said, “And now, mes enfants, tell me what zees is all about, yes?”

But as Jeremy began to stammer out his story, from outside in the street came the familiar warning blare of CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG’S tremendous klaxon—“GA-GOO-GA, GA-GOO-GA, GA-GOO-GA,” and then a splintering crash of glass and metal and the sound of shouts and people running.

Now, what had happened was this.

CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG had broken all records in her dash from Calais to Paris, and then, almost seeming to take charge of the steering wheel herself, had finished the trip with a hair-raising sprint through the crowded streets, ignoring traffic lights, police whistles, and the angry shouts of other motorists as if she knew there were only minutes to spare.

Commander Pott clung grimly to the wheel and Mimsie spent most of the time with her hands over her eyes, as if, at any moment, they would crash.

But then the little radar scanner on the hood held steady along one particular stretch of street, and CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG slowed down all by herself as if she were sniffing about looking for something. And, sure enough, as they passed a big candy shop with the words “BON-BON” in gold upon it, a low black car dashed suddenly out of a side street and Commander Pott and Mimsie just had time to recognize it as the gangsters’ car, when CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG positively wrenched the wheel out of Commander Pott’s hands and tore straight, like a charging bull, across the street—straight at the black tourer.

CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG hit the black tourer bang in its middle with a tremendous crash and tinkling of glass and knocked it right over on its side, spilling Joe the Monster, Soapy Sam, and Man-Mountain Fink out onto the road. And, just at that moment, as the gangsters scrambled to their feet to make a run for it, French motorcycle patrols, with sirens screaming, appeared from both ends of the street and tore down upon them.

Commander Pott jumped from the driver’s seat of the now motionless green car, and joined in the chase which now ensued, finally bringing Joe the Monster to the ground with a flying tackle like you see in football.

And then, with the three gangsters lined up and covered with the policemen’s revolvers, the door of the candy shop opened and the little man looking rather like Father Christmas came running up followed by Jeremy and Jemima.

Well, you can imagine the scenes of happiness and excitement that followed as the twins were reunited with their parents. But then there had to be a lot of confabulation with the police after a French Black Maria had driven up and taken the shouting and cursing gangsters away.

But at last everything had been explained in a mixture of English and French, and many compliments were piled on the shy heads of Jeremy and Jemima for the gallant part they had played in bringing about the capture of the gangsters.

Then a police tow truck appeared and hauled the remains of the gangsters’ car away and the police promised to have

CHITTY-CHITTY-BANG-BANG’s broken front bumper and bent-in radiator nose put right as quickly as possible. And Monsieur Bon-Bon and the Pott family watched sympathetically as the great green car was hauled carefully off to a nearby garage, where Commander Pott later visited her to see that she was being properly looked after and that she hadn’t suffered any internal damage as a result of her brave ramming of the black tourer.