edge of the banquette. He seemed to remember something, something one did when one had nothing to say. He groped in the side pocket of his coat and produced a packet of Players. `Will you have a, er, cigarette?’ He prised open the top with a fairly clean thumb nail, stripped down the silver paper and pushed out the cigarettes. The girl took one. Nash’s other hand flashed forward a lighter with the obsequious speed of a motor salesman.
Nash looked up. Bond was standing leaning against the door and wondering how to help this clumsy, 杭州水疗哪里好玩 embarrassed man. Nash held out the cigarettes and the lighter as if he was offering glass beads to a native chief. `What about you, old man?’
`Thanks,’ said Bond. He hated Virginia tobacco, but he was prepared to do anything to help put the man at ease. He took a cigarette and lit it. They certainly had to make do with some queer fish in the Service nowadays. How the devil did this man manage to get along in the semi-diplomatic society he would have to frequent in Trieste?
Bond said lamely. `You look very fit, Nash. Tennis?’
`Been 杭州水疗全套会所 long in Trieste?’
There came a brief red glare. `About three years.’
`Sometimes. You know how it is, old man.’
Bond wondered how he could stop Nash calling him `old man’. He couldn’t think of a way. Silence fell.
Nash obviously felt it was his turn again. He fished in his 杭州水疗价格 pocket and produced a newspaper cutting. It was the front page of the Corrière della Sera. He handed it to Bond. `Seen this, old man?’ The eyes blazed and died.
It was the front page lead. The thick black lettering on the cheap newsprint was still wet. The headlines said:
TERRIBLE ESPLOSIONE IN ISTANBUL
UFFICIO SOVIETICO DISTRUTTO
TUTTI I PRESENTI
Bond couldn’t understand the rest. He folded the cutting and handed it back. How much did this man know? Better treat him as a strong-man arm and nothing else. `Bad show,’ he said. `Gas 杭州水疗论坛 main I suppose.’ Bond saw again the obscene belly of the bomb hanging down from the roof of the alcove in the tunnel, the wires that started off down the damp wall on their way back to the plunger in the drawer of Kerim’s desk. Who had pressed the plunger yesterday afternoon when Tempo had got through? 杭州怎么联系校内鸡 The `Head Clerk’? Or had they drawn lots and then stood round and watched as the hand went down and the deep roar had gone up in the Street of Books on the hill above. They would all have been there, in the cool room. With eyes that glittered with hate. The tears would be reserved for the night. Revenge would have come first. And the rats? How many thousand had been blasted down the tunnel? What time would it have been? About four o’clock. Had the daily meeting been on? Three dead in the room. How many more in the rest of the building? 杭州不正规的油压店 Friends of Tatiana, perhaps. He would have to keep the story from her. Had Darko been watching? From a window in Valhalla? Bond could hear the great laugh of triumph echoing round its walls. At any rate Kerim had taken plenty with him.
Nash was looking at him. `Yes, I daresay it was a gas main,’ he