تیفانی کیس

CHAPTER Four

Tiffany Case

Bond knocked on the door of room 350 of the Trafalgar Palace Hotel.

‘Come in,’ said a woman’s voice.

He walked into the small living room and shut the door behind him.

‘Lock it,’ said the voice. It came from the bedroom.

Bond locked the door and walked across to the middle of the room, past the bedroom door.

‘Sit down,’ said the voice.

Bond smiled and sat in an armchair next to a desk. He could just see her through the open door. She was getting dressed.

After a few minutes, Tiffany Case came out of the bedroom. She was very beautiful, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was dressed in a black suit and a green shirt. She wore an expensive gold watch on her arm, and a large diamond ring on the third finger of her right hand.

‘So you’re Peter Franks,’ she said. ‘I’m Tiffany Case. Why did you decide to do this job? They told me that you were a burglar.’

‘I am,’ said Bond. ‘Something went wrong on a job. There was an argument and a person died.’

‘And now you want to leave the country,’ she said.

‘That’s right. And I need the money.’

‘Where are you going to carry the stones,’ she asked. ‘Do you have any ideas?’

‘I thought perhaps the handles of a suitcase would be a good place,’ said Bond. ‘Yes?’

‘No, because the customs men think the same thing,’ she said. ‘Do you play golf?’

‘Yes,’ said Bond.

‘Which golf balls do you use?’ She took a piece of paper and a pen from the desk.

‘They’re called Dunlop 65’s,’ said Bond.

‘OK. Have you got a passport,’ she asked.

‘I have,’ said Bond. ‘But it uses my real name. James Bond.’

She looked at him for a moment, then said, ‘It’s not important. Now listen. You’re going over to America to see a man called Michael Tree. His friends call him “Shady” Tree. Now this is your story. He’s an American friend of yours, and you met him in Europe. OK?’

‘OK,’ said Bond.

‘You’ll stay at the Astor Hotel in New York.’ She walked to the desk and opened a drawer. She took out a small packet and gave it to Bond. ‘There’s about five hundred pounds in there,’ she said.

‘Get a room here in London at the Ritz Hotel. Buy a good, used suitcase and pack your golfing holiday clothes.

Get your golf clubs, then buy a ticket for the Thursday evening Monarch flight to New York. A car will come for you at 6/30 on Thursday evening. The driver will give you the golf balls.’

‘All right,’ said Bond.

‘Don’t think you can trick us and take the diamonds. The driver will stay with you until your bags go on the plane. And I’ll be at London Airport.’

‘What happens in New York,’ asked Bond.

‘Another driver will meet you and tell you what to do next. If anything goes wrong at customs, you know nothing.’

‘Could we meet in New York,’ said Bond, smiling. He liked this girl, and she could help him to get further up the pipeline.

She looked at him, then looked away. ‘Well, I suppose we could have dinner Friday night, if the job goes OK. Meet me at eight o’clock at the Twenty-one Club on 52nd Street. Now I’ve got things to do.’ She walked towards the door. Bond followed her. ‘You’ll be all right,’ she said. ‘Just stay away from me on the plane.’

She opened the door and Bond walked out of the room.

‘See you at the Twenty-one Club,’ he said. She closed the door behind him and waited to hear his footsteps go away.

Twenty minutes later, Tiffany Case walked into Charing Cross Railway Station. She went to one of the telephone boxes and dialled a number.

After the usual two rings, she heard the click of the automatic recorder taking the call. For twenty seconds she heard nothing. Then the voice of her boss, who she did not know, said, ‘Speak.’

She spoke quickly. ‘Case to ABC. The carrier’s real name is James Bond. He’ll use that name on his passport. He plays golf and will carry golf clubs.

I suggest we use golf balls. He uses Dunlop 65’s. I’ll call again later this evening.’ She put down the phone.

In a rented room somewhere in London, the recorder stopped. A door opened and closed. Footsteps went softly down some stairs and out into an unknown street and away.