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It was an advertisement for maternity clothes 'STUTZ HEIMER & BLOCK,' it Said, 'IT'S NEW! OUR ANTICIPATION DEPARTMENT, AND AFTER! CLOTHES FOR CHIPS (1-4) AND TWIGS (4-8)'

Bond groaned 'Let's get away from here,' he said 'This is really beyond the call of duty'

They caht until they cauard station The streets were free of oldsters and here there was the normal life of a harbour -- wharves, warehouses, a ship's chandler, soulls, the rather fetid s boneyard of the town the sign over the garage: 'Drive-ur-Self Pat Grady The S Irishman Used cars,' was a cheerful reet out and walk,' said Leiter 'The Robber's place is in the next block'

They left the car beside the harbour and sauntered along past a tie tanks Then they turned left again towards the sea

The side-road ended at a small weather-beaten wooden jetty that reached out twenty feet on barnacled piles into the bay Right up against its open gate was a long low corrugated-iron warehouse Over its wide double doors was painted, black on white, 'Ourobouros Inc Live Worm and Bait Merchants Coral, Shells, Tropical Fish Wholesale only' In one of the double doors there was a sn: 'Private Keep Out'

Against this a man sat on a kitchen chair, its back tilted so that the door supported his weight He was cleaning a rifle, a Reton 30 it looked like to Bond He had a wooden toothpick sticking out of his mouth and a battered baseball cap on the back of his head He earing a stained white singlet that revealed tufts of black hair under his arms, and slept-in white canvas trousers and rubber-soled sneakers He was around forty and his face was as knotted and sea posts on the jetty It was a thin, hatchet face, and the lips were thin too, and bloodless His complexion was the colour of tobacco dust, a sort of yellowy-beige He looked cruel and cold, like the bad old mines

Bond and Leiter walked past him and on to the pier He didn't look up from his rifle as they went past but Bond sensed that his eyes were following them

'If that isn't The Robber,' said Leiter, Ht's a blood relation'

A pelican, grey with a pale yellow head, was hunched on one of the et very close, then reluctantly gave a few heavy beats of his wings and planed doards the water The twojust above the surface of the harbour Suddenly he crashed clu out and down in front of hi a sot up again and went on fishing, flying ive no warning When Bond and Leiter turned to walk back down the jetty it gave up fishing and glided back to its post It settled with a clatter of wings and resuhtful consideration of the late afternoon

Thethe

'Good afternoon,' said Leiter 'You the er of this wharf?'

'Yep,' said theup

'Wondered if there was any chance ofmy boat here Basin's pretty crowded'

'Nope'

Leiter took out his notecase 'Would twenty talk?'

'Nope' Thehawk in his throat and spat directly between Bond and Leiter

'Hey,' said Leiter 'You want to watch your manners'

The man deliberated He looked up at Leiter He had small, close-set eyes as cruel as a painless dentist's x 'What's a name of your boat?'

'The Sybil,' said Leiter

'Ain't no sich boat in the Basin,' said the man He clicked the breech shut on his rifle It lay casually on his lap pointing down the approach to the warehouse, away from the sea

'You're blind,' said Leiter 'Been there a week Sixty-foot twin-screw Diesel White with a green awning Rigged for fishing'

The rifle started to er, his right just in front of the trigger-guard, pivoting the gun

They stood still

Thedown at the breech, his chair still tilted against the sun slowly traversed Leiter's sto adown the wharf The Robber looked briefly up, narrowed his eyes and pulled the trigger The pelican gave a fault squawk and they heard its heavy body crash into the water The echo of the shot boomed across the harbour

'What the hell d'you do that for?' asked Bond furiously

'Practice,' said theanother bullet into the breech

'Guess there's a branch of the ASPCA in this town,' said Leiter 'Let's get along there and report this guy'

'Want to be prosecuted for trespass?' asked The Robber, getting slowly up and shifting the gun under his arit the hell out of here' He turned and yanked the chair away from the door, opened the door with a key and turned with one foot on the threshold 'You both got guns,' he said 'I kin sain and you follow the boid 'n I plead self-defence I've had a bellyful of you lousy dicks aroun' here lately breathin' down h the door and slammed it so that the frarinned ruefully and shrugged his shoulders

'Round One to The Robber,' he said