007 Complete Series - 21 James Bond Novels in One Volume. Ian Fleming

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СКАЧАТЬ his friend, with Leiter’s injuries.

      There was a medium dry Martini with a piece of lemon peel waiting for him. Bond smiled at Leiter’s memory and tasted it. It was excellent, but he didn’t recognize the Vermouth.

      ‘Made with Cresta Blanca,’ explained Leiter. ‘New domestic brand from California. Like it?’

      ‘Best Vermouth I ever tasted.’

      ‘And I’ve taken a chance and ordered you smoked salmon and Brizzola,’ said Leiter. ‘They’ve got some of the finest meat in America here, and Brizzola’s the best cut of that. Beef, straight-cut across the bone. Roast and then broiled. Suit you?’

      ‘Anything you say,’ said Bond. ‘We’ve eaten enough meals together to know each other’s tastes.’

      ‘I’ve told them not to hurry,’ said Leiter. He rapped on the table with his hook. ‘We’ll have another Martini first and while you drink it you’d better come clean.’ There was warmth in his smile, but his eyes were watching Bond. ‘Just tell me one thing. What business have you got with my old friend Shady Tree?’ He gave his order to the waiter and sat forward in his chair and waited.

      Bond finished his first Martini and lit a cigarette. He swivelled casually in his chair. The tables near them were empty. He turned back and faced the American.

      ‘You tell me something first, Felix,’ he said softly. ‘Who are you working for these days? Still the C.I.A.?’

      ‘Nix,’ said Leiter. ‘With my gun hand gone they could only offer me desk work. Very nice about it and paid me off handsomely when I said I wanted an open-air life. So Pinkerton’s made me a good offer. You know, “The Eye that Never Sleeps” people. So now I’m just a “door-basher” – private detective. “Put on some clothes and open up” routine. But it’s good fun. They’re a nice crowd to work with, and one day I’ll be able to retire with a pension and a presentation gold watch that goes green in summer. As a matter of fact I’m in charge of their Race Gang squad – doping, crooked running, night-guards at the stables, all that sort of thing. Good job, and it takes you all over the country.’

      ‘Sounds all right,’ said Bond. ‘But I didn’t know you knew anything about horses.’

      ‘Usen’t to be able to recognize a horse unless there was a milk-wagon tied on behind,’ admitted Leiter. ‘But you soon pick it up, and it’s mostly the people you have to know about, not the horses. What about you?’ He lowered his voice. ‘Still with the Old Firm?’

      ‘That’s right,’ said Bond.

      ‘On a job for them now?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Undercover?’

      ‘Yes.’

      Leiter sighed. He sipped his Martini reflectively. ‘Well,’ he said finally. ‘You’re a damn fool to be operating alone if it’s anything to do with the Spangled boys. In fact, you’re such a bad risk I’m crazy even to be having lunch with you. But I’ll tell you why I was gumshoeing around Shady’s neck of the woods this morning and maybe we can help each other. Without involving our outfits, of course. Okay?’

      ‘You know I’d like to work with you, Felix,’ said Bond seriously. ‘But I’m still working for the Government while you’re probably in competition with yours. But if it turns out our target’s the same, there’s no sense in getting wires crossed. If we’re chasing the same hare, I’ll be happy to run with you. Now,’ Bond looked quizzically at the Texan. ‘Am I right in thinking you’re interested in someone with a blaze face and four white stockings? Called “Shy Smile”?’

      ‘That’s right,’ said Leiter, not particularly surprised. ‘Running at Saratoga on Tuesday. And what might the running of this horse have to do with the security of the British Empire?’

      ‘I’ve been told to back him,’ said Bond. ‘One thousand dollars to win. Pay-off for another job.’ Bond lifted up his cigarette and his hand covered his mouth. ‘I brought £100,000 worth of uncut diamonds in by plane this morning for Mr Spang and his friends.’

      Leiter’s eyes narrowed. He gave a low whistle of surprise. ‘Boy!’ he said respectfully. ‘You’re certainly in a bigger league than me. I’m only interested because “Shy Smile” is a ringer. The horse that’s due to win on Tuesday won’t be “Shy Smile” at all. “Shy Smile” wasn’t even placed the last three times he ran. And anyway they’ve shot him. It’ll be a very fast job called “Pickapepper”. Just by chance he’s got a blaze face and four white stockings, too. Big chestnut, and they’ve done a good job with his hooves and various other small points of difference. They’ve been getting this job ready for over a year. Out in the desert in Nevada, where the Spangs have some sort of a ranch. And are they going to clean up! It’s a big race, with $25,000 added. And you can bet they’ll plaster the country with their money just before the off. Can’t fail to be better than Fives. More like Ten or Fifteen to One. They’ll make a packet.’

      ‘But I thought all horses in America had to have their lips tattooed,’ said Bond. ‘How have they got round that?’

      ‘Grafted new skin on to “Pickapepper’s” mouth. Copied “Shy Smile’s” marks on it. This tattoo gimmick is getting old fashioned. The word in Pinkerton’s is that the Jockey Club are going to change to photos of the night eyes.’

      ‘What are night eyes?’

      ‘They’re those callouses on the inside of a horse’s knees. The English call them “chestnuts”. Seems they’re different on every horse. Like a man’s finger-prints. But it’ll be the same old story. They’ll photo the night eyes on every racehorse in America and then find the gangs have dreamed up a way of altering them with acid. The cops never catch up with the robbers.’

      ‘How do you know all this about “Shy Smile”?’

      ‘Blackmail,’ said Leiter cheerfully. ‘I had a drugging rap all lined up on one of the Spang stable boys. I let him buy his way out of it with the details of this little caper.’

      ‘What are you going to do about it?’

      ‘Remains to be seen. Going up to Saratoga on Sunday.’ Leiter’s face lit up. ‘Hell, why don’t you come along with me? Driving up, and I’ll get you in at my dump. The “Sagamore”. Swanky motel. You’ve got to sleep somewhere. Better not be seen out together much, but we’ll be able to meet up in the evenings. What do you say?’

      ‘Wonderful,’ said Bond. ‘Couldn’t be better. And now it’s damn near two o’clock. Let’s have some lunch and I’ll tell you my end of the story.’

      The smoked salmon was from Nova Scotia and a poor substitute for the product of Scotland, but the Brizzola was all that Leiter had said, so tender that Bond could cut it with a fork. He finished his lunch with half an avocado with French dressing and then dawdled over his Espresso.

      ‘And that’s the long and short of it.’ Bond concluded the story he had been telling between mouthfuls. ‘And my guess is that the Spangs are doing the smuggling and the House of Diamonds, which they own, is doing the merchandising. Any views?’

      Leiter tapped a Lucky Strike out on to the table with his left hand and lit it at the flame of Bond’s Ronson.

      ‘Sounds СКАЧАТЬ