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to the feet in summer。 And there are fewer people。 Although Venice is the one town in the world that can swallow up a hundred thousand tourists as easily as it can a thousand … hiding them down its side…streets； using them for crowd scenes on the piazzas； stuffing them into the vaporetti … it is still better to share Venice with the minimum number of packaged tours and Lederhosen。
Bond spent the next morning strolling the back…streets in the hope that he would be able to uncover a tail。 He visited a couple of churches … not to admire their interiors but to discover if anyone came in after him through the main entrance before he left by the side door。 No one was following him。 Bond went to Florian's and had an Americano and listened to a couple of French culture…snobs discussing the imbalance of the containing facade of St Mark's Square。 On an impulse； he bought a postcard and sent it off to his secretary who had once been with the Georgian Group to Italy and had never allowed Bond to forget it。 He wrote： 〃Venice is wonderful。 Have so far inspected the railway station and the Stock Exchange。 Very aesthetically satisfying。 To the Municipal Waterworks this afternoon and then an old Brigitte Bardot at the Scala Cinema。 Do you know a wonderful tune called 'O Sole Mio？' It's v。 romantic like everything here。 JB。〃
Pleased with his inspiration； Bond had an early luncheon and went back to his hotel。 He locked the door of his room and took off his coat and ran over the Walther PPK。 He put up the safe and practised one or two quick draws and put the gun back in the holster。 It was time to go。 He went along to the landing…stage and boarded the twelve…forty vaporetto to Alberoni； out of sight across the mirrored lagoons。 Then he settled down in a seat in the bows and wondered what was going to happen to him。
From the jetty at Alberoni； on the Venice side of the Lido peninsula； there is a half mile dusty walk across the neck of land to the Bagni Alberoni facing the Adriatic。 It is a curiously deserted world； this tip of the famous peninsula。 A mile down the thin neck of land the luxury real estate development has petered out in a scattering of cracked stucco villas and bankrupt housing projects； and here there is nothing but the tiny fishing village of Alberoni； a sanatorium for students； a derelict experimental station belonging to the Italian Navy and some massive weed…choked gun emplacements from the last war。 In the no man's land in the centre of this thin tongue of land is the Golf du Lido； whose brownish undulating fairways meander around the ruins of ancient fortifications。 Not many people e to Venice to play golf； and the project is kept alive for its snob appeal by the grand hotels of the Lido。 The golf course is surrounded by a high wire fence hung at intervals； as if it protected something of great value or secrecy； with threatening Vietatos and Prohibitos。 Around this wired enclave； the scrub and sandhills have not even been cleared of mines； and amongst the rusting barbed wire are signs saying MINAS。 PERICOLO DI MORTE beneath a roughly stencilled skull and crossbones。 The whole area is strange and melancholy and in extraordinary contrast to the gay carnival world of Venice less than an hour away across the lagoons。
Bond was sweating slightly by the time he had walked the half mile across the peninsula to the plage； and he stood for a moment under the last of the acacia trees that had bordered the dusty road to cool off while he got his bearings。 In front of him was a rickety wooden archway whose central span said BAGNI ALBERONI in faded blue paint。 Beyond were the lines of equally dilapidated wooden cabins； and then a hundred yards of sand and then the quiet blue glass of the sea。 There were no bathers and the place seemed to be closed； but when he walked through the archway he heard the tinny sound of a radio playing Neapolitan music。 It came from a ramshackle hut that advertised Coca…Cola and various Italian soft drinks。 Deck…chairs were stacked against its walls and there were two pedallos and a child's half inflated seahorse。 The whole establishment looked so derelict that Bond could not imagine it doing business even at the height of the summer season。 He stepped off the narrow duckboards into the soft； burned sand and moved round behind the huts to the beach。 He walked down to the edge of the sea。 To the left； until it disappeared in the autumn heat haze； the wide empty sand swept away in a slight curve towards the Lido proper。 To the right was half a mile of beach terminating in the seawall at the tip of the peninsula。 The seawall stretched like a finger out into the silent mirrored sea； and at intervals along its top were the flimsy derricks of the octopus fishermen。 Behind the beach were the sandhills and a section of the wire fence surrounding the golf course。 On the edge of the sandhills； perhaps five hundred yards away； there was a speck of bright yellow。
Bond set off towards it along the tide…line。
〃Ahem。〃
The hands flew to the top scrap of bikini and pulled it up。 Bond walked into her line of vision and stood looking down。 The bright shadow of the umbrella covered only her face。 The rest of her … a burned cream body in a black bikini on a black and white striped bath…towel … lay offered to the sun。
She looked up at him through half closed eyelashes。 You are five minutes early and I told you to knock。〃
Bond sat down close to her in the shade of the big umbrella。 He took out a handkerchief and wiped his face。 〃You happen to own the only palm tree in the whole of this desert。 I had to get underneath it as soon as I could。 This is the hell of a place for a rendezvous。〃
She laughed。 〃I am like Greta Garbo。 I like to be alone。〃
〃Are we alone？〃
She opened her eyes wide。 〃Why not？ You think I have brought a chaperone？〃
〃Since you think all men are pigs 。 。 。〃
〃Ah； but you are a gentleman pig；〃 she giggled。 〃A milord pig。 And anyway； it is too hot for that kind of thing。 And there is too much sand。 And besides this is a business meeting； no？ I tell you stories about drugs and you give me a diamond clip。 From Van Cleef。 Or have you changed your mind？〃
〃No。 That's how it is。 Where shall we begin？〃
〃You ask the questions。 What is it you want to know？〃 She sat up and pulled her knees to her between her arms。 Flirtation had gone out of her eyes and they had bee attentive； and perhaps a little careful。
Bond noticed the change。 He said casually； watching her： 〃They say your friend Colombo is a big man in the game。 Tell me about him。 He would make a good character for my book … disguised； of course。 But it's the detail I need。 How does he operate； and so on？ That's not the sort of thing a writer can invent。〃
She veiled her eyes。 She said： 〃Enrico would be very angry if he knew that I had told any of his secrets。 I don't know what he would do to me。〃
〃He will never know。〃
She looked at him seriously。 〃Lieber Mr Bond； there is very little that he does not know。 And he is also quite capable of acting on a guess。 I would not be surprised〃 … Bond caught her quick glance at his watch … 〃if it had crossed his mind to have me followed here。 He is a very suspicious man。〃 She put