place.The East Turret turned out to be anything but Edwardian. As they had judged when looking down on the castle from a distance, the turrets were exceptionally roomy, and the East Turret was particularly sumptuous, with its own private lift and two sets of rooms, one above the other, connected by a cleverly designed staircase which was totally enclosed. The treads were huge oblongs. As Fredericka said, `We could dance on these individually.' The elevator took them directly into the circular sitting-room. The decor looked very expensive blue and white, with large easy chairs, a long settee and marble tables. The wall above the bar was decorated with theatrical drawings which looked like original charcoal sketches for stage sets.
The unusually wide flight of steps took Bond into the bedroom.
Here the design changed.
Instead of following the circular line of the walls, the bedroom had been squared off, the windows set very deeply into the walls. The bed itself was the centre piece a vast four-poster, like an island in the midst of a green and gold sea.
Bond prowled around, opening doors, and taking in the views from the windows. The bathroom, he realized, was slightly above the bedroom and at the very top of the turret. From its main window he could see right across the shallow-sloping roof to the great tower, with clear arched windows set in it at intervals. He returned to the circular sitting-room.
`It's a real thrill to be here, and to see you in the flesh.' He imitated Fredericka's awed voice.
`Well,' she said. `What about you and the Irish flirt 'I'd have talked for longer if I'd known how good looking you were' Jesus, this place is creepy, James.' `All huge castles are creepy. What's so different about this one?' Fredericka stood close to the elevator doors.
`You do realize that we're virtually prisoners in this place.' She demonstrated by pressing the buttons. The small indicator did not light up, neither could they hear the usual whirr of machinery. `What do you make of that, James?' `What do I make of the whole business?' he asked himself. `I'm beginning to wonder if some of those stories about Dragonpol's retirement are true.' `Which ones in particular?' `That he had a complete breakdown. Was unable to perform: unhinged by his own talent. I mean that whole extraordinary business of the painting all that dressing up, the make-up and the lights shone directly in our eyes. That was for our benefit: an act for us. He knew we were on our way. Did you get a look at Hort's easel?' `No, she moved me right away from it.' `Right. You want to know why? It was a daub, a squiggle of lines, paint splashed on to the canvas, no painting of the great man as Richard III. They were both playing with us. I think his first intention was to put the fear of God into us. Maybe he changed his mind at the last minute, but I think we should be prepared for some further bits of fantasy.' `He's living in another world, that's for sure 'Please don't bother to dress, we're very informal here.' When did you last hear a line like that?' Bond walked back into the great circular room, his restless eyes looking for possible hiding places for security cameras, or listening devices. There were many and there was no way he could possibly sweep the suite without the proper equipment.
`And what about Lester and 'the boys'?' he asked. `They look like ordinary servants to you particularly in this day and age when servants are a thing of the past?'
'`The boys' give off a certain something that I recognize. Fredericka was pacing around the room, brow creased and hands moving nervously.
`They're more like bodyguards than flunkies.' `Quite. Bodyguards or male nurses. A pair of very tough bantam weights, and I'd put money on them knowing a lot of tricks designed to damage your health. Lester could well have been his dresser, but his own clothes leave much to be desired.' `How?' `You didn't notice the bulge? The man's carrying.
Shoulder holster, and something pretty lethal in it. The other strange thing is that I've seen Dragonpol on stage and screen, admittedly cloaked in the great acting roles, but I don't really recognize him.' `You don't? I'd recognize him anywhere.' `I'm not talking about physical recognition.
There's something not quite right with the man.
That spark isn't there.' `Oh, come on, James. You know actors, they're like watchers when they're off stage, nude, as it were. Mostly they appear to be terribly ordinary people when they're off. With watchers, it's the other way around. They go invisible when they're working and seem larger than life when they're off.
Surely it's normal enough?' Bond frowned. `Maybe. Maybe you're right, but David Dragonpol was not your run-of-the-mill actor, and this man just doesn't feel right. If I didn't know it was him, I'd swear he was a ringer.' `Or, perhaps you're right about the mental collapse.
You've seen people after a breakdown: they look the same, but something vital has gone.' `Could be.' He did not sound convinced, nor, in fact, was he. While Fredericka went off to take a bath and, to use her words, `Pretty myself up,' he wandered around the rooms of the East Turret, poking and prying into every drawer and closet, his mind quietly wrestling with the enigma that was David Dragonpol. The truth, he considered, lay in the man's relationship with Laura March who had been, according to those who knew and worked with her, a person of high intellect and nobody's fool. If the facts were correct, she had loved this man unless the break-up was really of her making and because he had become so strange.
He thought again of Carmel Chantry's description of that very break-up. How she had been called here, to Schloss Drache .... she came into my office looking ill-white, unsteady. It was a Friday afternoon and she said D. D. had called her. There was some drama and he was sending his private aircraft for her. On the Monday she came in and told me it was all over.' That was what Carmel had told him, so it was unlikely that Laura had taken the initiative. Private aircraft?
He wondered. Now where would he keep that?
Carmel had intimated that there was some kind of landing strip nearby. Well, it could not be within walking distance, the terrain was too rocky for that.
He continued to think, going round in circles until Fredericka called out that she was finished in the bathroom.
When he reached the bedroom, he saw that she had laid out a long, black, backless evening gown.
`So, you are going to be formal.
`Of course. What about you? Did you by chance bring a dinner jacket?' `Like certain credit cards, I never leave home without it,' he smiled. Then, `Flick, when your people spotted the Dragonfly passing in and out of Switzerland, did he travel by normal commercial airlines?' `Yes. Usually, that is.
`What do you mean, usually?' `He does have a private aircraft, but he's pretty sparing in its use. He also has problems with it.' `What kind of problems?' `He hasn't got any clearance to bring it into Switzerland. I remember we checked that out. He has landing rights in England and France, but none of the other countries. Why?' `Why, yourself? Why hasn't he got landing rights?' `Because we nobbled him.
Look, James, we've been watching this guy for some time, and my immediate boss was convinced that he had contacts with terrorist groups and dodgy arms dealers. He's been up to no good, so we put the word out in certain quarters. He can use this country Germany France and the UK, but we managed to put a block on him elsewhere. If he wants to go into the Scandinavian countries, or Spain, Portugal and Italy, he has to fly the friendly skies by the nearest friendly carrier.
`What excuse did you give him?' `For not getting landing rights?
Oh, I guess the various countries used all kinds of excuses doubts about the safety of his aircraft, or the aircrew. He can huff and puff as much as he likes, but there's no law that says any country has to tell him the reason he's been banned. Sometimes, I guess they wouldn't tell him at all, they'd just reject his flight plan, and refuse any alternatives he presented. He'd soon get the message.
`But you have nothing solid against him? No really firm evidence?' `No, and as far as I know he's never made a fuss about being refused landing rights. I can check if you think the phones are safe.' `Leave it for now.' `I love Dragonfly. I think we should use that as his crypto.
Bond unpacked his garment bag, hung his spare suit and the dinner jacket, placed other articles in drawers and retreated into the bathroom.
They were both dressed and ready by seven-fifteen, and once more they tried to summon the elevator without success. At exactly seven-thirty they heard the mechanism whirr. The cage came up, stopped, and the door opened to reveal the grave Lester, his head tilted as if something unpleasant had been placed directly under his nose. He showed no surprise on seeing the guests dressed formally.
Without a word, he ushered them into the cage, and he remained silent through the lengthy trek along the many passages and corridors that took them finally into a large oval room: light, airy with a full twenty-five-foot
