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would be over this wall that the suicides gained access. The castle itself was a giant
five-storeyed affair in the Japanese tradition, with swooping, winged roofs of glazed tile.
Dolphin-shaped finials decorated the topmost storey, and there was a profusion of other
decorative devices, small balconies, isolated turrets and gazebos so that the whole
black-painted edifice, edged here and there with what Tiger said was gold paint, gave
the impression of a brilliant attempt to make a stage setting for Dracula. Bond picked up
a large magnifying glass and ran over the whole property inch by inch, but there was
nothing more to be gleaned except the presence of an occasional diminutive figure at
work in the park or raking the gravel round the castle.
Bond laid down the glass. He said gloomily, 'That's not a castle! That's a fortress!
How am I supposed to get into the bloody place?'
'The Superintendent asks if you are a good swimmer. I have had a complete outfit
sent down from my ninjutsu establishment. The seaward wall would present no
problems.'
'I can swim well enough, but how do I get to the base of the wall? Where do I start
from?'
'The Superintendent says there is an Ama island called Kuro only half a mile out to
sea.'
'What's an Ama island?'
'They exist at different places round Japan. I believe there are some fifty such
settlements. The Ama are a tribe whose girls dive for the awabi shells that is our local
abalone. A clam. It is a great delicacy. They sometimes dive for pearl oysters. They
dive naked. Some of them are very beautiful. But they keep themselves very much to
themselves and visitors to their islands are completely discouraged. They have their
own primitive culture and customs. I suppose you could compare them to sea-gipsies.
They rarely marry outside the tribe, and it is that which has made them a race apart.'
'Sounds intriguing, but how am I going to make a base on this Kuro Island? I may
have to wait days for the weather to be right.'
Tiger spoke rapidly to the Superintendent and there was a lengthy reply. Ah, so desu
ka!' said Tiger with interest and enthusiasm. He turned to Bond. 'It seems that the
Superintendent is distantly related to a family on Kuro. It is a most interesting family.
There is a father and a mother and one daughter. She is called Kissy Suzuki. I have
heard of her. When she was seventeen, she became famous in Japan by being chosen
to go to Hollywood to make a film. They wanted a Japanese diving girl of great beauty
and someone had heard, of her. She made the film, but hated Hollywood and longed
only to return to her Ama life. She could have made a fortune, but she retired to this
obscure island. There was a great to-do in the Press at the time, and it was judged that
she had behaved most honourably. They christened her "The Japanese Garbo". But
Kissy will now be twenty-three and everyone has forgotten about her. The
Superintendent says that he could arrange for you to stay with this family. They seem to
have some obligation towards him. He says it is a simple house, but comfortable
because of the money this girl earned in Hollywood. The other houses on the island are
nothing but fishermen's shacks.'
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'But won't the rest of the community resent me being there?'
'No. The people of the island belong to the Shinto religion. The Superintendent will
speak to the Shinto priest and everything will be okay.'
'All right, so I stay on this island and then one night I swim across to the wall. How do
I get up it?'
'You will have the ninja outfit. It is here. You have seen how it is used. You will use it.
It is very simple.'
'As I saw from the man who fell into the moat. Then what do I do?'
'You hide up in the grounds and wait for an opportunity to kill him. How you do that is
up to you. As I told you, he goes about in armour. A man in armour is very vulnerable.
You only have to knock him off his feet. Then you will throttle him with the ninja chain
you will be wearing round your waist. If his wife is with him, you will throttle her too. She
is certainly involved in all this business, and anyway she is too ugly to live. Then you
escape over the wall and swim back to Kuro. There you will be picked up by the police
launch which will visit the place at once. The news of the death will quickly get round.'
Bond said doubtfully, 'Well, it all sounds very simple. But what about these guards?
The place is crawling with them.'
'You must just keep out of their way. As you can see, the park is full of hiding-places.'
'Thanks very much. In one of those poison bushes or up one of those trees. I don't
want to blind myself or go mad.'
'The ninja clothing will give you complete protection. You will have a black suit for
night and a camouflage one for the day. You will wear the swimming goggles to protect
your eyes. All this equipment you will tow over in a plastic bag which will be provided.'
'My dear Tiger, you've thought of everything. But I'd much rather have just one little
gun.'
'That would be crazy, Bondo-san. You know perfectly well that silence will be
essential. And with a silencer, which would be very heavy to swim with, the speed of
the bullet would be so much reduced that you might not pierce the armour. No, my
friend. Use ninjutsu. It is the only way.'
'Oh, all right,' said Bond resignedly. 'Now let's have a look at a photograph of this
chap. Has the Superintendent got one?'
It had been taken from a long way away with a telephoto lens. It showed a giant figure
in full medieval chain armour with the jagged, winged helmet of ancient Japanese
warriors. Bond studied the photograph carefully, noting the vulnerable spots at neck
and joints. A metal shield protected the man's groin. A wide-bladed samurai sword
hung from his waist, but there was no sign of any other weapon. Bond said thoughtfully,
'He doesn't look as daft as he ought to. Probably because of the Dracula setting. Have
you got one of his face? Perhaps he looks a bit madder in the raw.'
The Superintendent went to the bottom of his file and extracted what looked like a
blown-up copy of Doctor Gun-tram Shatterhand's passport photograph and handed it
over.
Bond took it nonchalantly. Then his whole body stiffened. He said to himself, God
Almighty! God Almighty! Yes. There was no doubt, no doubt at all! He had grown a
drooping black moustache. He had had the syphilitic nose repaired. There was a gold-
capped tooth among the upper frontals, but there could be no doubt. Bond looked up.
He said, 'Have you got one of the woman?'
Startled by the look of controlled venom on Bond's face, and by the pallor that showed
through the walnut dye, the Superintendent bowed energetically and scrabbled through
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his file.
Yes, there she was, the bitch - the flat, ugly wardress face, the dull eyes, the scraped-
back bun of hair.
Bond held the pictures, not looking at them, thinking.
Ernst Stavro Blofeld. Irma Bunt. So this was where they had come to hide! And the [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]