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ir and reached over with something very sharp。 Who is he？'
'One of the American security。 Head boy。 1 think。 Nasty。'
'It would be stupid to ask if he had any enemies； because he obviously had at least one 。 。 。' He trailed off as his two Sick Bay attendants arrived； followed by a pair of Ordinary Seamen carrying mopping…up gear。
lOh。 hell！' One of the Sick Bay attendants looked into the heads； then backed away。
'Just give Captain Bond the boots；' the Surgeon mander said quietly。 'Keep the cleaning up people away until he's finished。 Best get a gurney while you're at it； we'll have to put this one in the freezer。'
Bond kicked off his shoes； pulled on the boots and made his way towards the body。 It was Ed； no doubt about it。 and he had died atrociously。 Bond was even concerned about moving the body： afraid the head would part from the neck； for the slash across the throat had been long； hard and deep。
Pulling back the sleeves of his own navy blue RN issue pullover。 Bond turned the body onto its side。 His hands were wet with blood； but he reached into the dead man's pockets； removing a wallet and two other pieces of ID。 He was about to let the body drop back in place when lie heard a minute scraping sound ing； it seemed； from under the Secret Service man's right shoulder。 Blood up to his elbow。 Bond searched with his hand which connected with metal。 He pulled； bringing out a small； battery…operated dictating…machine。
At the door again； arms held away from his body； Bond told the surgeon mander that he could get the place cleared up。
One of the Sick Bay attendants thoughtfully came forward to wipe the blood from his arms。 He nodded thanks and set off back towards his own quarters。
There was some uproar in the section of passageway where the Admirals and their respective staffs were quartered。 A marine sergeant raised his eyebrows as Bond approached。 'Captain Bond； sir 。 。 。' then he saw the blood； and the dripping miniature dictating…machine。 'You all right； sir？ Blimey； that genuine claret； sir？'
'Freshly bottled； sergeant。 I'm afraid。 We have a murder on our hands。 What's the situation here？'
'All playing up nasty； sir。 All three Admirals are on the bridge with the Captain。 Admiral Could has one of his Flag Officers with him； a Lieutenant Brinkley； Lieutenant Camm wants permission to leave his quarters 。 。 。'
〃Nobody leaves 。 。 。' И was like a whipcrack mand。
'That's what I've told them。 sir。 Posted extra sentries。'
'Good。 What other problems have we got？'
'Admiral Gudeon has one of his security people with him on the bridge； the other iwo； Mr Stanley Hare and Mr Bruce Trimble； the black gentleman … they're playing merry hell。 They say ＇hey should be with （heir man at the whiff of any incident。'
'But they're in their cabin？'
'Sir。〃 ihe sergeant acknowledged。
〃Okay； keep them there。 Tell them I'll see them in due course。 The Russians？'
The sergeant sighed。 'Very difficult； sir。 All speak English； but they're not being helpful。'
'The lady？〃
'Miss Ratnikov？ She seems a bit distraught。 Seems as how she walked into the Wrens' heads just after the body was 。 。 。'
'Did she now。 You will inform all of them that I'll see them； independently； in my cabin within the hour。'
'Aye…aye； sir。'
？Just keep them quiet； sarge； and put one of your men on my cabin； I'll be going up to the bridge soon。 Nobody goes into my quarters； and I mean nobody； not even your Captain of Marines； without my saying so。 Particularly while I'm seeing the Captain on the bridge。'
The sergeant nodded。 'Good as done； sir。'
Bond washed the blood off himself； then cleaned the dictating…machine； and took a quick look at the victim's ID。 His name had been Edgar Morgan； and it was clear that he was the senior officer of the Secret Service team。 He shuffled through the wallet； and found a second laminated ID card； lucked deep into a 。〃。ippered pocket； so he looked at the photograph of Morgan and read the magic words。 Mr Morgan was not regular Secret Service。 He was only on attachment from other duties in Naval Intelligence； where he held the rank of mander。
He dried off the dictating…machine and saw that （he one small cassette had run all the way through。 He checked the batteries。 then operated the rewind。 The tiny tape scrolled back and he pressed the Play button； saw the red light e on； and then adjusted the volume。 The dead Ed Morgan's voice came out clear from the tiny speaker。
'Report Four。 To be translated in plain cipher and squirted at first opportunity via HMS Invincible。 Number 23X5。 Request all detailed background on following names。 First； Russian officers； possible KGB or GRU。 Nikola Ratnikov； assigned as Russian Naval Attache； Yevgeny Stura； Gennady Novikov and Ivan Tiblashin。 Also request further information on the following members of the British Royal Navy 。 ； 。' Bond's eyes widened as he listened to this particular roll of honour。 'If all cleared and genuine。' the voice continued； 'I suggest Dancer cleared for RV as arranged。 If not cleared； will definitely advise abort Stewards' Meeting。 Repeat 。 。 。' Then came the other sounds： the cry； the thump as the small metal recorder hit the floor； the final horrible sounds of Morgan's death； followed by the muflled tape still running； and behind it other noises。 A woman's voice； then another。 They were unclear； but he also thought he eould hear a noise； as though someone were trying to move the body。 There was the muffled sound of footsteps on the tiles。 Then silence。
The problem that concerned James Bond was the list of Royal Navy personnel that the late Ed Morgan was trying to have cleared with Washington。 It was quite obvious that there was some munications arrangement with Invincible … probably an American cipher machine had been installed。 The whole thing would have been automatic； the dictating…machine's tape would be fed onto a cipher tape which would translate it into whatever random jumble they were using； and the entire message would be squirted to Washington in a fraction of a second。 That was a secondary business； though。 The real worry lay in the list of people Morgan wanted checked out。
Bond picked up the 'phone and dialled the bridge。 A young midshipman came on； and； in a few seconds； following some urgent instructions； Rear…Admiral Sir John Walmsley spoke； 'Be quick about it。 Bond。 I'm trying to get this force through the Channel without Blue Side〃s submarines blowing us all to hell。'
Bond took less than a minute。 There was a long silence； then Walmsley said； 'Get up here。 You'd best break the bad news to Admiral Gudeon himself。 Get up here now。'
〃Aye…Aye； sir。' Bond stowed away the late Ed Morgan's ID and the dictiiting…machine； grabbed his cap and left the cabin at a run。
'I am not pulling out of this exercise。 Bond。 Not for you； not for anyone。 It's all far too important。 Particularly what's due to happen tomorrow night when we should be in the Bay of Biscay。 That's too important； politically。' Sir John Walmsley's bearded jaw stuck forward； giving him an awesomely stubborn look。 They were in the Rear…Admiral's night cabin。
Bond shrugged。 'A（ least the Stewards〃 Meeting team has to be informed。'
'As security liaison a