The meeting was very quiet, ominously so. These men had all been secret agents or conspirators. They recognized the smell of insurrection, the shadow of approaching disloyalty. What did No. 10 know? What was he going to divulge? Each man got ready to decide very quickly which way to jump when the cat was let out of the bag. Largo slipped the gun out of his pocket and held it along his thigh.
‘There will come a moment,’ continued No. 10, watching the faces of the men opposite for a quick gauge of their reactions, ‘very shortly, when fifteen of us, leaving five members and six sub-agents on board this ship, will be out there,’ he waved a hand at the cabin wall, ‘in the darkness, at least half an hour’s swim from this ship. At that moment, Comrades,’ the voice became sly, ‘what a thing it would be if those remaining on board were to sail the ship away and leave us in the water.’ There was a shifting and muttering round the table. No. 10 held up a hand. ‘Ridiculous I am thinking, and so no doubt are you, Comrades. But we are men of a feather. We recognize the unworthy urges that can come upon even the best of friends and comrades when fortunes are at stake. And, Comrades, with fifteen of us gone, how much more of a fortune would there be for those remaining, with their story for No. 2 of a great fight with sharks in which we all succumbed?’
Largo said softly, ‘And what is it you propose, No. 10?’
For the first time, No. 10 looked to his right. He could not see the expression in Largo’s eye. He spoke at the great red and black mass of his face. The tone of his voice was obstinate. He said, ‘I am proposing that one member of each national group should stay on board to safeguard the interests of the other members of his national group. That would reduce the swimming party to ten. In this way those who are undertaking this dangerous work would go about it with more enthusiasm knowing that no such happening as I have mentioned could come about.’
Largo’s voice was polite, unemotional. He said, ‘I have one very short and simple answer to your suggestion, No. 10.’ The light glittered redly on the metal thumb that protruded from the big hand. The three bullets pumped so quickly into the face of the Russian that the three explosions, the three bright flashes, were almost one. No. 10 put up two feeble hands, palms forward, as if to catch any further bullets, gave a jerk forward with his stomach at the edge of the table and then crashed heavily backwards, in a splinter of chair wood, on to the floor.
Largo put the muzzle of the gun up to his nose and delicately sniffed at it, moving it to and fro under the nostrils as if it was some delicious vial of perfume. In the silence, he looked slowly down one rank of faces and up the other. Finally he said softly, ‘The meeting is now at an end. Will all members please return to their cabins and look for a last time to their equipment. Food will be ready from now on in the galley. One drink of alcohol will also be available for those who want it. I will detail two crew members to look after the late No. 10. Thank you.’
When Largo was alone he got to his feet, stretched, and gave a great cavernous yawn. Then he turned to the sideboard, opened a drawer and took out a box of Corona cigars. He chose one and, with a gesture of distaste, lit it. He then took the closed red rubber container that held the ice cubes and walked out of the door and along to the cabin of Domino Vitali.
He closed the door and locked it. Here also, a red riding light hung from the ceiling. Under it, on the double bunk, the girl lay offered like a starfish, her ankles and wrists strapped to the four corners of the ironwork below the mattress. Largo put the icebox down on the chest of drawers and balanced the cigar carefully beside it so that the glowing tip would not spoil the varnish.
The girl watched him, her eyes glittering red points in the semi-darkness.
Largo said, ‘My dear, I have had great enjoyment out of your body, much pleasure. In return, unless you tell me who gave you that machine to bring on board, I shall be forced to cause you great pain. It will be caused with these two simple instruments,’ he held up the cigar and blew on the tip until it glowed brightly, ‘this for heat, and these ice cubes for cold. Applied scientifically, as I shall apply them, they will have the inevitable effect of causing your voice, when it has stopped screaming, to speak, and speak the truth. Now then. Which is it to be?’
The girl’s voice was deadly with hate. She said, ‘You killed my brother and you will now kill me. Go on and enjoy yourself. You are already a piece of death yourself. When the rest of it comes, very soon, I pray God you will suffer a million times more than both of us.’
Largo’s laugh was a short, harsh bark. He walked over to the edge of the bunk. He said, ‘Very well, my dear. We must see what we can do with you, very softly and very, very slowly.’
He bent down and hooked his fingers in the neckline of her shirt and the join of the brassiere. Very slowly, but with great force, he tore downwards, the whole length of her. Then he threw aside the torn halves of material and exposed the whole gleaming length of her body. He examined it carefully and reflectively and then went to the chest of drawers and took the cigar and the bowl of ice cubes and came back and made himself comfortable on the edge of the bunk.
Then he took a puff at the cigar, knocked the ash off on to the floor and leant forward.
22 | THE SHADOWER
In the attack centre of the Manta it was very quiet. Commander Pedersen, standing behind the man at the echo-sounder, occasionally made a comment over his shoulder to Bond and Leiter, who had been given canvas-backed chairs well away from the depth- and speed-gauges, which had been hooded so that they could only be read by the navigation team. These three men sat side by side on red leather, foam cushioned, aluminium seats, handling the rudder and the forward and aft diving planes as if they were pilots in an airliner. Now the captain left the echo-sounder and came over to Bond and Leiter. He smiled cheerfully. ‘Thirty fathoms and the nearest cay is a mile to westwards. Now we’ve got a clear course all the way to Grand Bahama. And we’re making good speed. If we keep it up, we’ve got about four hours’ sailing. Be off Grand Bahama about an hour before first light. How about some food and a bit of sleep? There won’t be anything on the radar for an hour – these Berry Islands’ll fill the screen until we’re clear of them. Then’ll come the big question. When we clear them, shall we see that one of the smallest of the cays has broken loose and is sailing fast northwards on a parallel course to ours? If we see that on the screen, it’ll be the Disco. If she’s there, we’ll submerge. You’ll hear the alarm bells. But you can just roll over and have a bit more sleep. Nothing can happen until it’s certain that she’s in the target area. Then we’ll have to think again.’ The captain made for the stairway. ‘Mind if I lead the way? Watch your head on the pipes. This is the one part of the ship where there isn’t much clearance.’