Страница 590 из 624
Bond was sweating slightly by the time he had walked the half mile across the peninsula to the plage, and he stood for a moment under the last of the acacia trees that had bordered the dusty road to cool off while he got his bearings. In front of him was a rickety wooden archway whose central span said BAGNI ALBERONI in faded blue paint. Beyond were the lines of equally dilapidated wooden cabins, and then a hundred yards of sand and then the quiet blue glass of the sea. There were no bathers and the place seemed to be closed, but when he walked through the archway he heard the ti
Bond set off towards it along the tide-line.
‘Ahem.’
The hands flew to the top scrap of bikini and pulled it up. Bond walked into her line of vision and stood looking down. The bright shadow of the umbrella covered only her face. The rest of her – a burned cream body in a black bikini on a black and white striped bath-towel – lay offered to the sun.
She looked up at him through half-closed eye-lashes. ‘You are five minutes early and I told you to knock.’
Bond sat down close to her in the shade of the big umbrella. He took out a handkerchief and wiped his face. ‘You happen to own the only palm tree in the whole of this desert. I had to get underneath it as soon as I could. This is the hell of a place for a rendezvous.’
She laughed. ‘I am like Greta Garbo. I like to be alone.’
‘Are we alone?’
She opened her eyes wide. ‘Why not? You think I have brought a chaperone?’
‘Since you think all men are pigs …’
‘Ah, but you are a gentleman pig,’ she giggled. ‘A milord pig. And anyway, it is too hot for that kind of thing. And there is too much sand. And besides this is a business meeting, no? I tell you stories about drugs and you give me a diamond clip. From Van Cleef. Or have you changed your mind?’
‘No. That’s how it is. Where shall we begin?’
‘You ask the questions. What is it you want to know?’ She sat up and pulled her knees to her between her arms. Flirtation had gone out of her eyes and they had become attentive, and perhaps a little careful.
Bond noticed the change. He said casually, watching her: ‘They say your friend Colombo is a big man in the game. Tell me about him. He would make a good character for my book – disguised, of course. But it’s the detail I need. How does he operate, and so on? That’s not the sort of thing a writer can invent.’
She veiled her eyes. She said: ‘Enrico would be very angry if he knew that I had told any of his secrets. I don’t know what he would do to me.’
‘He will never know.’
She looked at him seriously. ‘Lieber Mr Bond, there is very little that he does not know. And he is also quite capable of acting on a guess. I would not be surprised’ – Bond caught her quick glance at his watch – ‘if it had crossed his mind to have me followed here. He is a very suspicious man.’ She put her hand out and touched his sleeve. Now she looked nervous. She said urgently: ‘I think you had better go now. This has been a great mistake.’
Bond openly looked at his watch. It was three-thirty. He moved his head so that he could look behind the umbrella and back down the beach. Far down by the bathing huts, their outlines dancing slightly in the heat haze, were three men in dark clothes. They were walking purposefully up the beach, their feet keeping step as if they were a squad.
Bond got to his feet. He looked down at the bent head. He said drily: ‘I see what you mean. Just tell Colombo that from now on I’m writing his life-story. And I’m a very persistent writer. So long.’ Bond started ru
Down the beach the three men broke into a fast jog-trot, elbows and legs pounding in time with each other as if they were long-distance ru
Bond took off his tie as he ran and put it in his pocket. It was very hot and he was already sweating profusely. But so would the three men be. It was a question who was in better training. At the tip of the peninsula, Bond clambered up on to the sea-wall and looked back. The men had hardly gained, but now two of them were fa
Bond’s shirt was already soaked and his feet were begi
Bond was pla