‘So,’ said the hunchback, ‘I and my friends pay only very seldom and in small amounts for services rendered. Instead, we arrange for the guy to make the money on his own account. Take yourself. How much money have you got in your pocket?’
‘About three pounds and some silver,’ said Bond.
‘All right,’ said the hunchback. ‘Today you met your friend Mr Tree.’ He pointed a finger at his chest. ‘Which is me. A perfectly respectable citizen whom you knew in England in 1945 when he was concerned with the disposal of Army surplus goods. Remember?’
‘Yes.’
‘I owed you $500 for a bridge game we had at the Savoy. Remember?’
Bond nodded.
‘When we meet today I toss you double or quits for it. And you win. Okay? So you now have $1000 and I, a tax-paying citizen, will support your story. Here is the money.’ The hunchback took a wallet out of his hip-pocket and pushed ten $100 bills across the table.
Bond picked them up and put them casually in the pocket of his coat.
‘And then,’ continued the hunchback, ‘you say you’d like to see some horse-racing while you’re over here. So I say to you “Why not go and take a look at Saratoga? The meeting begins on Monday.” And you say okay, and you go on up to Saratoga, with your thousand bucks in your pocket. Okay?’
‘Fine,’ said Bond.
‘And you back a horse there. And it pays off at least fives. So you have your $5000 and if anybody asks where it came from, you earned it and you can prove it.’
‘What if the horse loses?’
‘It won’t.’
Bond made no comment. So he was getting somewhere already – into the gangster world with a bang. The racing end of it. He looked across into the pale china eyes. It was impossible to tell whether they were receptive. They stared blankly back at him. But now for the big step through the cut-out.
‘Well, that’s fine,’ said Bond, hoping that flattery was the key. ‘You people certainly seem to think things out. I like working for careful people.’
There was no encouragement in the china eyes.
‘I’d like to stay away from England for a bit. I suppose you couldn’t do with an extra hand?’
The china eyes shifted away from his and inched reflectively over Bond’s face and shoulders as if the hunchback was judging horseflesh. Then the man looked down at the circle of diamonds in front of him and carefully, thoughtfully, poked it into a square.
There was silence in the room. Bond looked at his fingernails.
At last the hunchback looked up at him again. ‘Could be,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Could be there’d be something else for you. You made no mistakes so far. You go on that way and keep your nose clean. Call me up after the race and I’ll tell you what the word is. But, like I said, just take it easy and do what you’re told. Okay?’
Bond’s muscles relaxed. He shrugged his shoulders. ‘Why should I get out of line? I’m looking for a job. And you can tell your outfit that I’m not particular so long as the pay’s good.’
For the first time the china eyes showed emotion. They looked hurt and angry and Bond wondered if he had overplayed.
‘Who d’you think we are?’ the hunchback’s voice rose to an indignant squeak. ‘Some sort of a cheap crook outfit? Well, hell.’ He shrugged his shoulders resignedly. ‘Can’t expect a Limey to understand the way things are over here these days.’ The eyes went dull again. ‘Now listen to what I say. This is my number. Put it down. Wisconsin 7-3697. And write this down, too. But keep it to yourself or you may get your tongue cut out.’ Shady Tree’s short, shrill laugh was not merry. ‘Fourth race on Tuesday. The Perpetuities Stakes. Mile and a quarter for Three Year Olds. And put your money on just before the windows close. You’ll shift the odds with that Grand of yours. Okay?’
‘Okay,’ said Bond, a pencil poised obediently over his note-book.
‘Right,’ said the hunchback. ‘“Shy Smile”. Big horse with a blaze face and four white stockings. And play him to win.’
8 | THE EYE THAT NEVER SLEEPS
It was 12.30 when Bond went down in the elevator and out on to the roasting street.
He turned right and walked slowly down towards Times Square. As he passed the handsome black marble frontage of the House of Diamonds, he stopped to examine the two discreet show-windows lined with dark blue velvet. In the centre of each there was just one piece of jewellery, an ear-ring consisting of a big pear-shaped diamond hanging from another perfect stone, circular and brilliant-cut. Below each ear-ring there was a thin plate of yellow gold, in the shape of a visiting card with one edge turned down. On each plate was engraved the words ‘Diamonds are Forever’.
Bond smiled to himself. He wondered which of his predecessors had smuggled those four diamonds into America.
