Bond said casually, ‘Which night was it they did the final recce?’
‘Night after she hoiled. That’d be two nights ago. Sail round six.’
The blank portholes of the ship watched them approach. A sailor polishing brass round the curve of the enclosed dome that was the bridge walked through the hatch into the bridge and Bond could see him talking into a mouthpiece. A tall man in white ducks and a very wide mesh singlet appeared on deck and observed them through binoculars. He called something to the sailor, who came and stood at the top of the ladder down the starboard side. When their launch came alongside, the man cupped his hands and called down, ‘What is your business please? Have you an appointment?’
Bond called back, ‘It’s Mr Bond, Mr James Bond. From New York. I have my attorney here. I have an inquiry to make about Palmyra, Mr Largo’s property.’
‘One moment please.’ The sailor disappeared and returned accompanied by the man in white ducks and singlet. Bond recognized him from the police description. He called down cheerfully, ‘Come aboard, come aboard.’ He gestured for the sailor to go down and help fend the launch. Bond and Leiter climbed out of the launch and went up the ladder.
Largo held out a hand. ‘My name is Emilio Largo. Mr Bond? And …?’
‘Mr Larkin, my attorney from New York. Actually I’m English, but I have property in America.’ They shook hands. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, Mr Largo, but it’s about Palmyra, the property I believe you rent from Mr Bryce.’
‘Ah yes, of course.’ The beautiful teeth gleamed warmth and welcome. ‘Come on down to the stateroom, gentlemen. I’m sorry I am not properly dressed to receive you.’ The big brown hands caressed his flanks, the wide mouth turned down in deprecation. ‘My visitors usually announce themselves on the ship-to-shore. But if you will forgive the informality …’ Largo allowed the phrase to die on the air and ushered them through a low hatch and down a few aluminium steps into the main cabin. The rubber-lined hatch hissed to behind him.
It was a fine large cabin panelled in mahogany with a deep wine-red carpet and comfortable dark blue leather club chairs. The sun shining through the slats of Venetian blinds over the broad square ports added a touch of gay light to an otherwise rather sombre and masculine room, its long centre table littered with papers and charts, glass-fronted cabinets containing fishing gear and an array of guns and other weapons, and a black rubber underwater diving suit and aqualung suspended, almost like the skeleton in a sorcerer’s den, from a rack in one corner. The air-conditioning made the cabin deliciously cool, and Bond felt his damp shirt slowly freeing itself from his skin.
‘Please take a chair, gentlemen.’ Largo carelessly brushed aside the charts and papers on the table as if they were of no importance. ‘Cigarettes?’ He placed a large silver box between them. ‘And now what can I get you to drink?’ He went to the loaded sideboard. ‘Something cool and not too strong perhaps? A Planter’s Punch? Gin and tonic. Or there are various beers. You must have had a hot journey in that open launch. I would have sent my boat for you if only I had known.’
They both asked for a plain tonic. Bond said, ‘I’m very sorry to barge in like this, Mr Largo. No idea I could have got you on the telephone. We just got in this morning and as I’ve only a few days I have to get a move on. The point is, I’m looking for a property down here.’
‘Oh yes?’ Largo brought the glasses and bottles of tonic to the table and sat down so that they formed a comfortable group. ‘What a good idea. Wonderful place. I’ve been here for six months and already I’d like to stay for ever. But the prices they’re asking – ’ Largo threw up his hands. ‘These Bay Street pirates. And the millionaires, they are even worse. But you are wise to come at the end of the season. Perhaps some of the owners are disappointed not to have sold. Perhaps they will not open their mouths so wide.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ Bond sat comfortably back and lit a cigarette. ‘Or rather what my lawyer, Mr Larkin, advised.’ Leiter shook his head pessimistically. ‘He had made some inquiries and he frankly advised that real estate values down here have gone mad.’ Bond turned politely towards Leiter to bring him into the conversation. ‘Isn’t that so?’
‘Daft, Mr Largo, quite daft. Worse even than Florida. Out of this world. I wouldn’t advise any client of mine to invest at these prices.’
‘Quite so.’ Largo obviously didn’t want to get drawn too deeply into these matters. ‘You mentioned something about Palmyra. Is there anything I can do to help in that respect?’
