“Best Vermouth I ever tasted.”
“And I’ve taken a chance and ordered you smoked salmon and Brizzola,” said Leiter. “They’ve got some of the finest meat in America here, and Brizzola’s the best cut of that. Beef, straight-cut across the bone. Roast and then broiled. Suit you?”
“Anything you say,” said Bond. “We’ve eaten enough meals together to know each other’s tastes.”
“I’ve told them not to hurry,” said Leiter. He rapped on the table with his hook. “We’ll have another Martini first and while you drink it you’d better come clean.” There was warmth in his smile, but his eyes were watching Bond. “Just tell me one thing. What business have you got with my old friend Shady Tree?” He gave his order to the waiter and sat forward in his chair and waited.
Bond finished his first Martini and lit a cigarette. He swivelled casually in his chair. The tables near them were empty. He turned back and faced the American.
“You tell me something first, Felix,” he said softly. “Who are you working for these days? Still the CIA?”
“Nix,” said Leiter. “With my gun hand gone they could only offer me desk work. Very nice about it and paid me off handsomely when I said I wanted an open-air life. So Pinkerton’s made me a good offer. You know, ‘The Eye that Never Sleeps’ people. So now I’m just a’door-basher’-private detective. Tut on some clothes and open up’ routine. But it’s good fun. They’re a nice crowd to work with, and one day I’ll be able to retire with a pension and a presentation gold watch that goes green in summer. As a matter of fact I’m in charge of their Race Gang squad-doping, crooked running, night-guards at the stables, all that sort of thing. Good job, and it takes you all over the country.”
“Sounds all right,” said Bond. “But I didn’t know you knew anything about horses.”
“Usen’t to be able to recognize a horse unless there was a milk-wagon tied on behind,” admitted Leiter. “But you soon pick it up, and it’s mostly the people you have to know about, not the horses. What about you?” He lowered his voice. “Still with the Old Firm?”
“That’s right,” said Bond.
“On a job for them now?”
“Yes.”
“Undercover?”
“Yes.”
Leiter sighed. He sipped his Martini reflectively. “Well,” he said finally. “You’re a dam fool to be operating alone if it’s anything to do with the Spangled boys. In fact, you’re such a bad risk I’m crazy even to be having lunch with you. But I’ll tell you why I was gumshoeing around Shady’s neck of the woods this morning and maybe we can help each other. Without involving our outfits, of course. Okay?”
“You know I’d like to work with you, Felix,” said Bond seriously. “But I’m still working for the Government while you’re probably in competition with yours. But if it turns out our target’s the same, there’s no sense in getting wires crossed. If we’re chasing the same hare, I’ll be happy to run with you. Now,” Bond looked quizzically at the Texan. “Am I right in thinking you’re interested in someone with a blaze face and four white stockings? Called Shy Smile?”
“That’s right,” said Leiter, not particularly surprised. “Running at Saratoga on Tuesday. And what might the running of this horse have to do with the security of the British Empire?”
“I’ve been told to back him,” said Bond. “One thousand dollars to win. Pay-off for another job.” Bond lifted up his cigarette and his hand covered his mouth. “I brought £100,000 worth of uncut diamonds in by plane this morning for Mr Spang and his friends.”
Leiter’s eyes narrowed. He gave a low whistle of surprise.
“Boy!” he said respectfully. “You’re certainly in a bigger league than me. I’m only interested because Shy Smile is a ringer. The horse that’s due to win on Tuesday won’t be Shy Smile at all. Shy Smile wasn’t even placed the last three times he ran. And anyway they’ve shot him. It’ll be a very fast job called Picka-pepper. Just by chance he’s got a blaze face and four white stockings, too. Big chestnut, and they’ve done a good job with his hooves and various other small points of difference. They’ve been getting this job ready for over a year. Out in the desert in Nevada, where the Spangs have some sort of a ranch. And are they going to clean up! It’s a big race, with $25,000 added. And you can bet they’ll plaster the country with their money just before the off. Can’t fail to be better than Fives. More like Ten or Fifteen to One. They’ll make a packet.”