Bond Movies 03 - Licence to Kill Read Online Free

crisp pink suit. Yet, somehow the suit was not right, as though the girl preferred to slouch about in jeans and a T-shirt. It was only a quick impression that Bond could never have explained, but, as lovely as she was, the girl seemed out of place and, in his constant inquisitive hunt for the secret of women, he was anxious to talk with her.
    His eyes searched the room, but the girl was missing so he began to review possible second choices. It was not as though he had all the time in the world, for he was already late on site for an assignment M, his chief, had authorised a week ago.
    Around him the wedding party shrieked, laughed, babbled and appeared to be going true to form. He wandered over to the buffet where white-coated waiters assisted in dispensing plates of jumbo prawns, accompanied by the usual hot red sauce; salmon, both cold and smoked, and a great assortment of salads. Bond saw there were puddings also and eyed the local Key Lime pie which, if not a gourmet dish, he always found cleared the palate wonderfully.
    Two girls, talking animatedly about diets and what they dared eat, stood together on his left, so Bond quietly intruded with a remark about the millions of calories that lay in front of them. They seemed happy enough after he had introduced himself and they, in turn, announced themselves to be Lizzie Owen, a short, bubbly and attractive young woman who turned out to be an artist, and a shy blonde who simply gave her name as Pat. Bond marked the latter as possibly his best chance for the evening and began the tedious business of small-talk, leading gently to more serious matters. Half an hour later he had discovered that Pat had come to Key West for a week, en route for Australia. That had been nine years ago.
    ‘Some people regard this place as the really tacky end of Florida,’ she told him. ‘But it has a strange sense of unreality. It’s a place of escape. Mind you, I really don’t know how people like Hemingway ever managed to get any creative work done here.’
    Bond was about to make some light remark about Key West being different in Hemingway’s time, when he saw Della, looking radiant and very happy, heading in his direction. As she approached she raised her right hand displaying a long and lethal cake knife.
    ‘James!’
    Bond thought he had rarely seen her so happy. He put his hands up in mock surrender, looking at the knife. ‘Take whatever you want. Just don’t do your Anthony Perkins imitation.’
    She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the lips.
    ‘Hey, hey. You’re a happily married woman now.’
    ‘Just claiming my rights. Bride gets to kiss the best man.’ She was the tiniest bit tipsy.
    Bond held her away from him, his arms resting on her shoulders. ‘I thought it was the other way around; but no matter. Anything goes.’
    ‘It certainly does.’ She brandished the knife. ‘It’s time to cut the cake, but where’s the groom? I’ll tell you where the groom is; he’s closeted in his study, and with another woman.’
    ‘The cad. Want me to get him?’
    ‘Seriously, James, could you? We really should cut the cake.’
    ‘Anything for a lady, especially if she’s got a knife.’ He told Lizzie and Pat not to go away, quietly took the cake knife from Della, then went up the stairs to Felix’s study. Reaching the door he tapped and walked straight in.
    Felix was sitting at his desk in the centre of the room, operating his computer. Next to him, leaning over his shoulder to look at the screen, was the delightful brunette he had seen outside the church.
    They both looked up in surprise, but neither showed any sign of guilt.
    ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had . . .’ Bond began.
    ‘Come on in, James, we’re almost finished.’ He turned to the girl and handed her a sealed envelope. ‘There you go, Pam.’ Then, turning to Bond, ‘James, meet Pam.’
    Pam gave him an almost curt, utterly disinterested, nod. She touched Leiter on the shoulder