“That’s fine,” he said easily. “I’d like that. But who is ‘The Mob’?” He busied himself with lighting a cigarette, conjuring up the professional to keep the human quiet.
He could feel her looking sharply at him. It put him on his mettle. The secret agent took over and his mind began to work coldly, watching for clues, for lies, for hesitations.
He looked up and his eyes were candid.
She seemed satisfied. “It’s called the Spangled Mob. Two brothers called Spang. I work for one of them in Las Vegas. Nobody seems to know where the other one is. Some say he’s in Europe. And then there’s somebody called ABC. When I’m on this diamond racket, all the orders come from him. The other one, Seraffimo, he’s the brother I work for. He’s more interested in gambling and horses. Runs a wire service and the Tiara at Vegas.”
“What do you do there?”
“I just work there,” she said, closing the subject.
“Do you like it?”
She ignored the question as being too stupid to answer.
“And then there’s Shady,” she went on. “He’s not a bad guy really, except he’s so crooked, you shake hands with him you better count your fingers afterwards. He looks after the cat-houses and the dope and the rest of the stuff. There are plenty of other fellers-hoodlums of one sort and another. Tough operators.” She looked at him and her eyes hardened. “You’ll get to know them,” she sneered. “You’ll like them. Just your type-”
“Hell,” said Bond indignantly. “It’s just another job. I’ve got to earn some money.”
“There are plenty of other ways.”
“Well, these are the people you’ve chosen to work for.”
“You’ve got something there.” She laughed wryly, and the ice was broken again. “But, believe me, you’re getting into the big league when you sign up with the Spangles. If I were you, I’d think the hell of a long time before you join our cosy little circle. And don’t go and get in wrong with the mob. If you’re planning anything of that sort, you’d better start taking lessons with a harp.”
They were interrupted by the arrival of the cutlets, accompanied by asparagus with mousseline sauce, and by one of the famous Kriendler brothers who have owned ’21’ ever since it was the best speak-easy in New York.
“Hullo, Miss Tiffany,” he said. “Long time no see. How’are things out at Vegas?”
“Hello, Mac.” The girl smiled up at him. “Tiara’s going along okay.” She glanced round the packed room. “Seems your little hot dog stand ain’t doing too badly.”
“Can’t complain,” said the tall young man. “Too much expense-account aristocracy. Never enough pretty girls around. You ought to come in more often.” He smiled at Bond. “Everything all right?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
“Come again.” He snapped a ringer at the wine waiter. “Sam, ask my friends what they’d like to have with their coffee.” And, with a final smile which embraced them both, he moved to another table.
Tiffany ordered a Stinger made with white crème de menthe and Bond ordered the same.
When the liqueurs and the coffee came, Bond took up the conversation where they had left it. “But Tiffany,” he said. “This diamond racket looks easy enough. Why shouldn’t we just go on doing it together? Two or three trips a year will get us good money, and that won’t be often enough to make Immigration or customs ask any awkward questions.”
Tiffany Case was not impressed. “Just you put it up to ABC,” she said. “I keep telling you that these people aren’t fools. They’re running a big operation with this stuff. I’ve never had the same carrier twice, and I’m not the only guard doing the run. What’s more, I’m pretty certain we weren’t alone on that plane. I bet they had someone else watching us both. They check and double check on every dam thing they do.” She was irritated with his lack of respect for the quality of her employers. “Why, I’ve never even seen ABC,” she said. “I just call up a number in London and get my orders on a wire-recorder. Anything I’ve got to say, I send back to ABC the same way. I tell you all this is way above your head. You and your dam country house burglaries.” She was crushing. “Brother! Have you got another think coming!”