Quinn shrugged. ‘Your funeral. You’re vulnerable in that car.’

Bond was already moving about the room finishing his packing, yet all the time his senses were centred on Quinn. Trust nobody: right, he would not even trust this man.

‘Your boys?’ he said. ‘Give me a rundown.’

‘They’re out there. Look for yourself.’ Quinn nodded in the direction of the window. He crossed to the long shutters and peered through the louvred slats. Bond placed himself just behind the big man.

‘There,’ said Quinn, ‘the one standing by the rocks, in the blue shirt. The other’s in the silver Renault parked at the end of the row of cars.’

It was a Renault 25 V6i, not Bond’s favourite kind of car. If he played his cards properly he could outrun that pair with ease.

‘I want information on one other person,’ he said as he stepped back into the centre of the room, ‘an English girl with an Italian title . . .’

‘Tempesta?’ There was a sneer on Quinn’s lips.

Bond nodded.

‘M doesn’t think she’s part of the game, though she could be bait. He says you should take care. His words were “Exercise caution.” She’s around, I gather.’

‘Very much so. I’ve promised to give her a lift to Rome.’

‘Dump her!’

‘We’ll see. Okay, Quinn, if that’s all you have for me, I’ll sort out my route home. It could be scenic.’

Quinn nodded and stuck out his hand, which Bond ignored. ‘Good luck. You’re going to need it.’

‘I don’t altogether believe in luck. Ultimately I believe in only one thing – myself.’

Quinn frowned, nodded and left Bond to make his final preparations. Speed was essential, but his main concern at this moment was what he should do about Sukie Tempesta. She was there, an unknown quantity, yet he felt she could be used somehow. As a hostage, perhaps? The Principessa Tempesta would make an adequate hostage, a shield even, if he felt sufficiently ruthless. As though by telepathy, the telephone rang and Sukie’s mellow voice came on the line.

‘I was wondering what time you wanted to leave, James?’

‘Whenever it suits you. I’m almost ready.’

She laughed, and the harshness seemed to have gone. ‘I’ve nearly finished packing. I’ll be fifteen minutes at the most. Do you want to eat here before we leave?’

Bond said he’d prefer to stop somewhere on the way, if she did not mind. ‘Look, Sukie, I’ve got a small problem. It might involve a slight detour. May I come and talk to you before we go?’

‘In my room?’

‘It would be better.’

‘It could also cause a small scandal for a well brought up convent girl.’

‘I can promise you there’ll be no scandal. Shall we say ten minutes time?’

‘If you insist.’ She was not being unpleasant, just a little more formal than before.

‘It is rather important. I’ll be with you in ten minutes.’

Hardly had he put down the telephone and snapped the locks on his case, when it rang again.

‘Mr Bond?’ He recognised the booming voice of Doktor Kirchtum, Direktor of the Klinik Mozart. He seemed to have lost some of his ebullience.

‘Herr Direktor?’ Bond heard the note of anxiety in his own tone.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Bond. It is not good news . . .’

‘May!’

‘Your patient, Mr Bond. She is vanished. The police are here with me now. I’m sorry not to have made contact sooner. But she is vanished with the friend who visited yesterday, the Moneypenny lady. There has been a telephone call and the police wish to speak to you. She has been, how do you say it? Napped . . .’

‘Kidnapped? May kidnapped, and Moneypenny?’

A thousand thoughts went through his head, but only one made sense. Someone had done his homework very well. May’s kidnapping could just possibly have been associated with Moneypenny’s, who was always a prime target. What was more probable, however, was that one of the Head Hunt contenders wanted Bond under close observation, and how better than to lead him in a search for May and Moneypenny?

5

NANNIE

All things considered, Bond thought, Sukie Tempesta showed that she was an uncommonly cool lady. He dropped the Happi-coat on to the bed, ready to pack later, and caught sight of his naked body in the long mirror. What he saw pleased him, not in any vain way, but because of his obvious fitness: the taut muscles of his thighs and calves, and the bulge of his biceps.

He had showered and shaved before Quinn’s arrival, and now he dressed as he worked out a viable plan to deal with Sukie. He put on casual slacks, his favourite soft leather moccasins and a Sea Island cotton shirt. To hide the 9mm ASP, he threw on a battledress-style grey Oscar Jacobson Alcantara jacket. He placed his case and the two briefcases near the door, checked the gun, and went quickly downstairs, where he settled both his own and Sukie’s accounts. He then went straight up to her room.

Sukie’s Gucci luggage stood in a neat line near the door, which she opened to his knock. She was back in the Calvin Klein jeans, this time with a black silk shirt which looked to Bond like Christian Dior.

Gently he pushed her back into the room. She did not protest, but said simply that she was ready to leave. Bond’s face was set in a serious mask, which made her ask, ‘James, what is it? Something’s really wrong, isn’t it?’

‘I’m sorry, Sukie. Yes. Very serious for me, and it could be dangerous for you too.’

‘I don’t understand . . .’

‘I have to do certain things you might not like. You see, I’ve been threatened . . .’

‘Threatened? How threatened?’ She continued to back away.

‘I can’t go into details now, but it’s clear to me – and – others that there’s a possibility you could be involved.’

‘Me? Involved with what, James? Threatening you?’

‘It is a serious business, Sukie. My life’s at risk, and we met in rather dubious circumstances . . .’

‘Oh? What was dubious about it? Except for those unpleasant young muggers?’

‘It seemed as though I came along at a fortunate moment, and that I saved you from some unpleasantness. Then your car breaks down, conveniently near where I’m staying. I offer you a lift to Rome. Some might see it as a set-up, with me as the target.’

‘But I don’t . . .’

‘I’m sorry, I . . .’

‘You can’t take me to Rome?’ Her voice was level. ‘I understand, James. Don’t worry about it, I’ll find some way, but it does present me with a little problem of my own . . .’

‘Oh, you’re coming with me, maybe even to Rome eventually. I have no alternative. I have to take you, even if it’s as a hostage. I must have a little insurance with me. You’ll be my policy.’

He paused, letting it sink in, then, to his surprise, she smiled and said, ‘Well, I’ve never been a hostage before. It’ll be a new experience.’

She looked down and saw the gun in his hand.

‘Oh, James! Melodrama? You don’t need that. I’m on a kind of holiday anyway. I really don’t mind being your hostage, if it’s necessary.’ She paused, her face registering a fascinated pleasure. ‘It could even be exciting, and I’m all for excitement.’

‘The kind of people I’m up against are about as exciting as tarantulas, and lethal as sidewinders. I hope what’s going to happen now isn’t going to be too nasty for you, Sukie, but I have no other option. I promise you this is no game. You’re to do everything I say, and do it very slowly. I’m afraid I have to ask you to turn around – right

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