Free Gardner, John by Licence Renewed(v2.0)[htm] Page B

minutes after the Laird's group entered. On reaching the corridor running behind the boxes, Bond transferred the pearls to his right hand and advanced on the Laird of Murcaldy's box.
    They all had their backs to him as he knocked and stepped inside. Nobody noticed, for they seemed intent upon watching the runners canter down to the starting line. Bond coughed. 'Excuse me,' he said. The group turned.
    Anton Murik seemed a little put out. The women looked interested.
    Bond smiled and held out the pearls. 'I believe someone has been casting pearls before this particular swine,' he said, calmly. 'I found these on the floor outside. Looks like the chain's broken. Do they belong to . . . ?'
    With a little cry, Lavender Peacock's hand flew to her throat. 'Oh my God,' she breathed, the voice low and full of melody, even in this moment of stress.
    ' "My God" is right,' Murik's voice was almost unnaturally low for his stature, and there was barely a hint of any Scottish accent. 'Thank you very much. I've told my ward often enough that she should not wear such precious baubles in public. Now, perhaps, she'll believe me.'
    Lavender had gone chalk white and was fumbling out towards Bond's hand and the pearls. 'I don't know how to-' she began.
    Murik broke in, 'The least we can do, sir, is to ask you to stay and watch the race from here.' Bond was looking into dark slate eyes, the colour of cooling lava, and with as much life. This gaze would, no doubt, put the fear of God into some people, Bond thought: even himself, under certain circumstances. 'Let me introduce you. I am Anton Murik; my ward, Lavender Peacock, and an old friend, Mary-Jane Mashkin.'
    Bond shook hands, in turn; introducing himself. 'My name is Bond,' he said. 'James Bond.'
    Only one thing surprised him. When she spoke, Mary-Jane Mashkin betrayed in her accent that she was undoubtedly American - something that had not appeared on any of the files in M's office. Originally Southern, Bond thought, but well overlaid with the nasalities of the East Coast.
    'You'll stay for the race, then?' Murik asked, speaking quickly. 'Oh yes. Please.' Lavender appeared to have recovered her poise.
    Mary-Jane Mashkin smiled. She was a handsome woman, and the smile was much warmer than the subdued malevolence of Anton Murik. 'You must stay. Anton has a horse running.'
    'Thank you.' Bond moved closer within the box, trying to place himself between Murik and his ward. 'May I ask which horse?'
    Murik had his glasses up, scanning the course, peering towards the starting gate. 'China Blue. He's down there all right.' He lowered his glasses, and for a second there was movement within the lava-flow eyes. 'He'll win. Mr Bond.'
    'I sincerely hope so. What a coincidence,' Bond laughed, reaching for his own binocular case. 'I have a small bet on your horse. Didn't notice who owned him.'
    'Really?' There was a faint trace of appreciation in Murik's voice. Then he gave a small smile. 'Your money's safe. I shall have repaid you in part for finding Lavender's pearls. What made you choose China Blue?'
    'Liked the name.' Bond tried to look ingenuous. 'Had an aunt with a cat by that name once. Pedigree Siamese.'
    'They're under starter's orders.' Lavender sounded breathless. They turned their glasses towards the far distance, and the start of the Ascot Gold Cup-two and a half flat miles.
    A roar went up from the crowd below them. Bond just had time to refocus his glasses. The horses were off.
    Within half a mile a pattern seemed to emerge. The Queen's horse was bunched with the other favourites — Francis' Folly and Desmond's Delight, with Soft Centre clinging to the group, way out in front of three other horses which stood back a good ten lengths; while the rest of the field straggled out behind.
    Bond kept his glasses trained on the three horses behind the little bunch of four leaders who seemed set to provide the winners. Among this trio was the distinctive yellow and black of Murik's colours on China