Bond said, ‘I understand you have a lease of the property, Mr Largo. And there is talk that you may be leaving the house before long. Only gossip of course. You know what they are in these small islands. But it sounds more or less what I’m looking for and I gather the owner, this Englishman, Bryce, might sell if he got the right price. What I was going to ask you,’ Bond looked apologetic, ‘was whether we might drive out and look the place over. Some time when you weren’t there of course. Any time that might suit you.’
Largo flashed his teeth warmly. He spread his hands. ‘But of course, of course, my dear fellow. Whenever you wish. There is no one in residence but my niece and a few servants. And she is out most of the time. Please just call her up on the telephone. I shall tell her that you will be doing so. It is indeed a charming property – so imaginative. A beautiful piece of design. If only all rich men had such good taste.’
Bond got to his feet and Leiter followed suit. ‘Well that’s extraordinarily kind of you, Mr Largo. And now we’ll leave you in peace. Perhaps we may meet again in the town some time. You must come and have lunch. But,’ Bond poured admiration and flattery into his voice, ‘with a yacht like this, I don’t suppose you ever want to come ashore. Must be the only one on this side of the Atlantic. Didn’t one used to run between Venice and Trieste? I seem to remember reading about it somewhere.’
Largo grinned his pleasure. ‘Yes, that is right, quite right. They are also on the Italian lakes. For passenger traffic. Now they are buying them in South America. A wonderful design for coastal waters. She only draws four feet when the hydrofoil is operating.’
‘I suppose accommodation’s the problem?’
It is a weakness of all men, though not necessarily of all women, to love their material possessions. Largo said, with a trace of pricked vanity, ‘No, no. I think you will find that is not so. You can spare five minutes? We are rather crowded at the moment. You have heard no doubt of our treasure hunt?’ He looked sharply at them as a man would who expects ridicule. ‘But we will not discuss that now. No doubt you do not believe in these things. But my associates in the affair are all on board. With the crew, there are forty of us. You will see that we are not cramped. You would like?’ Largo gestured to the door in the rear of the stateroom.
Felix Leiter showed reluctance. ‘You know, Mr Bond, that we have that meeting with Mr Harold Christie at five o’clock?’
Bond waved the objection aside. ‘Mr Christie is a charming man. I know he won’t mind if we are a few minutes late. I’d love to see over the ship if you’re sure you can spare the time, Mr Largo.’
Largo said, ‘Come. It will not take more than a few minutes. The excellent Mr Christie is a friend of mine. He will understand.’ He went to the door and held it open.
Bond had been expecting the politeness. It would interfere with Leiter and his apparatus. He said firmly, ‘Please go first, Mr Largo. You will be able to tell us when to duck our heads.’
With more affabilities, Largo led the way.
Ships, however modern, are more or less the same – the corridors to port and starboard of the engine room, rows of cabin doors, which Largo explained were occupied, the large communal bathrooms, the galley, where two cheerful looking Italians in white smocks laughed at Largo’s jokes about the food and seemed pleased with the visitors’ interest, the huge engine room where the chief engineer and his mate, Germans it seemed, gave enthusiastic information about the powerful twin diesels and explained the hydraulics of the hydrofoil depressor – it was all exactly like visiting any other ship and saying the right things to the crew, using the right superlatives to the owner.
The short space of afterdeck was occupied by the little two-seater amphibian, painted dark blue and white to match the yacht, its wings now folded and its engine cowled against the sun, a big jolly-boat to hold about twenty men, and an electric derrick to hoist them in- and outboard. Bond, estimating the ship’s displacement and her free-board, said casually, ‘And the hold? More cabin space?’
‘Just storage. And the fuel tanks of course. She is an expensive ship to run. We have to carry several tons. The ballast problem is important with these ships. When her bows come up, the fuel shifts aft. We have to have big lateral tanks to correct these things.’ Talking fluently and expertly Largo led them back up the starboard passageway. They were about to pass the radio room when Bond said, ‘You said you had ship-to-shore. What else do you carry? The usual Marconi short and long wave, I suppose. Could I have a look? Radio has always fascinated me.’
Largo said politely, ‘Some other time, if you don’t mind. I’m keeping the operator full time on met. reports. They’re rather important to us at the moment.’
‘Of course.’
