Authors: Ian Fleming
Tags: #Fiction, #Espionage, #Spy Adventure, #James Bond (Fictitious character)
She squirmed impatiently but said nothing.
Bond knew how much it would be hurting. He said, "It's all right, Domino. You're doing fine. Last mouthful.'' He gave the sole of her foot a reassuring kiss and then, as tenderly as he could, put his teeth and lips back to work.
A minute or two later and he spat out the last section of spine. He told her it was over and gently laid the foot down. He said, "Now you mustn't get sand into it. Come on, I'll give you another lift into the hut and you can put your sandals on.''
She rolled over. Her black eyelashes were wet with the tears of small pain. She wiped a hand over them. She said, looking seriously up at him, "Do you know, you're the first man who's ever made me cry.'' She held up her arms and now there was complete surrender.
Bond bent and picked her up. This time he didn't kiss the waiting mouth. He carried her to the door of the hut. His or HERS? He carried her into HIS. He reached out a hand for his shirt and shorts and threw them down to make a scrap of a bed. He put her down softly so that she was standing on his shirt. She kept her arms round his neck while he undid the single button of the brassière and then the tapes of the taut slip. He stepped out of his bathing trunks and kicked them away.
19.
When the Kissing Stopped
Bond leaned on one elbow and looked down at the beautiful drowned face. There was a dew of sweat below the eyes and at the temples. A pulse beat fast at the base of the neck. The lines of authority had been sponged away by the love-making and the face had a soft, sweet, bruised look. The wet eyelashes parted and the tawny eyes, big and faraway, looked up with remote curiosity into Bond's. They focused lazily and examined him as if they were seeing him for the first time.
Bond said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.''
The words amused her. The dimples at each side of the mouth deepened into clefts. She said, "You talk like a girl who has had it for the first time. Now you are frightened that you will have a baby. You will have to tell your mother.''
Bond leaned down and kissed her. He kissed the two corners of her mouth and then the parted lips. He said, "Come and swim. Then I must talk to you.'' He got to his feet and held out his hands. Reluctantly she took them. He pulled her up and against him. Her body flirted with his, knowing it was safe. She smiled impishly up at him and became more wanton. Bond crushed her fiercely to him, to stop her and because he knew they had only a few more minutes of happiness. He said, "Stop it, Domino. And come on. We don't need any clothes. The sand won't hurt your foot. I was only pretending.''
She said, "So was I when I came out of the sea. The spines didn't hurt all that much. And I could have cured them if I'd wanted to. Like the fishermen do. You know how?''
Bond laughed. "Yes I do. Now, into the sea.'' He kissed her once and stood back and looked at her body to remember how it had been. Then he turned abruptly and ran to the sea and dived deeply down.
When he got back to shore she was already out and dressing. Bond dried himself. He answered her laughing remarks through the partition with monosyllables. Finally she accepted the change in him. She said, "What is the matter with you, James? Is anything wrong?''
"Yes, darling.'' Pulling on his trousers, Bond heard the rattle of the little gold chain against the coins in his pocket. He said, "Come outside. I've got to talk to you.''
Sentimentally, Bond chose a patch of sand on the other side of the nut from where they had been before. She came out and stood in front of him. She examined his face carefully, trying to read it. Bond avoided her eyes. He sat with his arms around his knees and looked out to sea. She sat down beside him, but not close. She said, "You are going to hurt me. Is it that you too are going away? Be quick. Do it cleanly and I will not cry.''
Bond said, "I'm afraid it's worse than that, Domino. It's not about me. It's about your brother.''
Bond sensed the stiffening of her body. She said in a low, tense voice, "Go on. Tell me.''
Bond took the bracelet out of his pocket and silently handed it to her.
She took it. She hardly gave it a glance. She turned a little away from Bond. "So he is dead. What happened to him?''
"It is a bad story, and a very big one. It involves your friend Largo. It is a very great conspiracy. I am here to find out things for my government. I am really a kind of policeman. I am telling you this and I will tell you the rest because hundreds and perhaps thousands of people will die unless you help to prevent it. That is why I had to show you that bracelet and hurt you so that you would believe me. I am breaking my oath in doing this. Whatever happens, whatever you decide to do, I trust you not to tell what I am going to say.''
"So that is why you made love to me--to make me do what you want. And now you blackmail me with the death of my brother.'' The words came out between her teeth. Now in a soft, deadly whisper, she said, "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.''
Bond said coldly, in a matter-of-fact voice, "Your brother was killed by Largo, or on his orders. I came here to tell you that. But then''--he hesitated--"you were there and I love you and want you. When what happened began to happen I should have had strength to stop it. I hadn't. I knew it was then or perhaps never. Knowing what I knew, it was a dreadful thing to have done. But you looked so beautiful and happy. I wanted to put off hurting you. That is my only excuse.'' Bond paused. "Now listen to what I have to tell you. Try and forget about your hate for me. In a moment you will realize that we are nothing in all this. This is a thing by itself.'' Bond didn't wait for her to comment. He began from the beginning and went slowly, minutely, through the whole case, omitting only the advent of the Manta, the one factor that could now be of help to Largo and perhaps alter his plans. He ended, "So you see, there is nothing we can do until those weapons are actually on board the Disco. Until that moment comes, Largo has a perfect alibi with his treasure-hunt story. There is nothing to link him with the crashed plane or with SPECTRE. If we interfere with him now, this moment, arrest the ship on some excuse, put a watch on her, prevent her sailing, there will only be a delay in the SPECTRE plan. Only Largo and his men know where the bombs are hidden. If the plane has gone for them, it will be keeping contact with the Disco by radio. If there's any hitch, the plane can leave the bombs at the hiding place or at another, dump them in shallow water anywhere, and return for them when the trouble has blown over. Even the Disco could be taken off the job and some other ship or plane used any time in the future. SPECTRE headquarters, wherever they are, will inform the Prime Minister that there has been a change of plan, or they can say nothing at all. Then, perhaps weeks from now, they will send another communication. And this time there will perhaps be only twenty-four hours' notice for the money to be dropped. The terms will be tougher. And we shall have to accept them. So long as those bombs are still lost to us, the threat is there. You see that?'' "Yes. So what is to be done?'' The voice was harsh. The girl's eyes glittered fiercely as they looked at and through Bond toward some distant target--not, he thought, at Largo the great conspirator, but at Largo who had had her brother killed.
"We have got to know when those bombs are on board the Disco. That is all that matters. Then we can act with all our weight. And we have one great factor on our side. We are pretty sure that Largo feels secure. He still believes that the wonderful plan, and it is wonderful, is going exactly as it was meant to do. That is our strength and our only strength. You see that?''
"And how are you to know when the bombs come on board the yacht?''
"You must tell us.''
"Yes.'' The monosyllable was dull, indifferent. "But how am I to know? And how am I to tell you? This man is no fool. He is only foolish in wanting his mistress''--she spat the word out--"when so much else is at stake.'' She paused. "These people have chosen badly. Largo cannot live without a woman within reach. They should have known that.''
"When did Largo tell you to come back on board?''
"Five. The boat is coming to fetch me at Palmyra.''
Bond looked at his watch. "It is now four. I have this Geiger counter. It is simple to use. It will tell at once if the bombs are on board. I want you to take it with you. If it says there is a bomb on board, I want you to show a light at your porthole--switch the lights on in your cabin several times, anything like that. We have men watching the ship. They will be told to report. Then get rid of the Geiger counter. Drop it overboard.''
She said scornfully, "That is a silly plan. It is the sort of melodramatic nonsense people write about in thrillers. In real life people don't go into their cabins and switch on their lights in daylight. No. If the bombs are there, I will come up on deck--show myself to your men. That is natural behavior. If they are not there, I will stay in my cabin.''
"All right. Have it your own way. But will you do this?'' "Of course. If I can prevent myself killing Largo when I see him. But on condition that when you get him you will see that he is killed.'' She was entirely serious. She looked at him with matter-of-fact eyes as if he were a travel agent and she were reserving a seat on a train.
"I doubt if that will happen. I should say that every man on board will get a life sentence in prison.''
She considered this. "Yes. That will do. That is worse than being killed. Now show me how this machine works.'' She got to her feet and took a couple of steps up the beach. She seemed to remember something. She looked down at the bracelet in her hand. She turned and walked down to the edge of the sea and stood for a moment looking out across the quiet water. She said some words that Bond couldn't hear. Then she leaned back and with all her strength threw the gold chain far out over the shoal into the dark blue. The chain twinkled briefly in the strong sun and there was a small splash. She watched the ripples widen and, when the smashed mirror was whole again, turned and walked back up the sand, her small limp leaving footmarks of uneven depth.
Bond showed her the working of the machine. He eliminated the wrist-watch indicator and told her to depend entirely on the telltale clicking. "Anywhere in the ship should be all right,'' he explained. "But better near the hold if you can get there. Say you want to take a photograph from the well deck aft or something. This thing's made up to look like a Rolleiflex. It's got all the Rolleiflex lenses and gadgets on the front, lever to press and all. It just hasn't got a film. You could say that you'd decided to take some farewell pictures of Nassau and the yacht, couldn't you?''
"Yes.'' The girl, who had been listening attentively, now seemed distracted. Tentatively she put out a hand and touched Bond's arm. She let the hand fall. She looked up at him and then swiftly away. She said shyly, "What I said, what I said about hating you. That is not true. I didn't understand. How could I--all this terrible story? I still can't quite believe it, believe that Largo has anything to do with it. We had a sort of an affair in Capri. He is an attractive man. Everyone else wanted him. It was a challenge to take him from all these other smart women. Then he explained about the yacht and this wonderful trip looking for treasure. It was like a fairy tale. Of course I agreed to come. Who wouldn't have? In exchange, I was quite ready to do what I had to do.'' She looked briefly at him and away. "I am sorry. But that is how it is. When we got to Nassau and he kept me ashore, away from the yacht, I was surprised but I was not offended. The islands are beautiful. There was enough for me to do. But what you have told me explains many small things. I was never allowed in the radio room. The crew were silent and unfriendly--they treated me like someone who was not wanted on board, and they were on curious terms with Largo, more like equals than paid men. And they were tough men and better educated than sailors usually are. So it all fits. I can even remember that, for a whole week before last Thursday, Largo was terribly nervous and irritable. We were already getting tired of each other. I put it down to that. I was even making plans for flying home by myself. But he has been better the last few days and when he told me to be packed and ready to come on board this evening, I thought I might just as well do as he said. And of course I was very excited over this treasure hunt. I wanted to see what it was all about. But then''--she looked out to sea--"there was you. And this afternoon, after what happened, I had decided to tell Largo I would not go. I would stay here and see where you went and go with you.'' For the first time she looked him full in the face and held his eyes. "Would you have let me do that?''
Bond reached out and put his hand against her cheek. "Of course I would.''
"But what happens now? When shall I see you again?''
This was the question Bond had dreaded. By sending her back on board, and with the Geiger counter, he was putting her in double danger. She could be found out by Largo, in which case her death would be immediate. If it came to a chase, which seemed almost certain, the Manta would sink the Disco by gunfire or torpedo, probably without warning. Bond had added up these factors and had closed his mind to them. He kept it closed. He said, "As soon as this is over. I shall look for you wherever you are. But now you are going to be in danger. You know this. Do you want to go on with it?'' She looked at her watch. She said, "It is half past four. I must go. Do not come with me to the car. Kiss me once and stay here. Do not worry about what you want done. I will do it well. It is either that or a stiletto in the hack for this man.'' She held out her arms. "Come.'' Minutes later Bond heard the engine of the MG come to life. He waited until the sound had receded in the distance down the Western Coast Road; then he went to the Land Rover and climbed in and followed.
A mile down the coast, at the two white obelisks that marked the entrance to Palmyra, dust still hung in the driveway. Bond sneered at his impulse to drive in after her and stop her from going out to the yacht. What in hell was he thinking of? He drove on fast down the road to Old Fort Point, where the police watchers were housed in the garage of a deserted villa. They were there, one man reading a paperback in a canvas chair while the other sat before tripod binoculars that were trained on the Disco through a gap in the blinds of a side window. The khaki walkie-talkie set was beside them on the floor. Bond gave them the new briefing and got on the radio to the Police Commissioner and confirmed it to him. The Commissioner passed two messages to him from Leiter. One was to the effect that the visit to Palmyra had been negative except that a servant had said the girl's baggage had gone on board the Disco that afternoon. The boathouse was completely innocent. It contained a glass-bottomed boat and pedallo. The pedallo would have made the tracks they had seen from the air. The second message said that the Manta was expected in twenty minutes. Would Bond meet Leiter at the Prince George, Wharf, where she would dock.