He locked the door and sat down. The envelope was not sealed. It contained a B.W.I.A. message form. The neat B.W.I.A. writing said:

MESSAGE RECEIVED FROM KINGSTON AT 12:15:

"THE SAMPLES WILL BE AVAILABLE AT 3-1/2 S.L.M.

AS FROM MIDDAY TOMORROW."

There was no signature. Bond uttered a short bark of laughter and triumph. S.L.M.--Savannah La Mar. Could it be It must be! At last the three red stars of a jackpot had clicked into line. What was it his Gleaner horoscope had said Well he would go nap on this clue from outer space--“seize it with both hands” as the Gleaner had instructed. He read the message again and carefully put it back in the envelope. His damp handkerchief had left marks on the buff envelope. In this heat they would dry out in a matter of minutes. He went out and sauntered over to the stand. There was no one in sight. He slipped the message back into its place under “S” and walked over to the Aeronaves de Mexico booth and cancelled his reservation. He then went to the BOAC counter and looked through the timetable. Yes, the Luna flight for Kingston, New York and London was due in at 13:15 the next day. He was going to need help. He remembered the name of Head of Station J. He went over to the telephone booth and got through to the High Commissioner's Office. He asked for Commander Ross. After a moment a girl's voice came on the line. “Commander Ross's assistant. Can I help you”

There was something vaguely familiar in the lilt of the voice. Bond said, “Could I speak to Commander Ross This is a friend from London .”

The girl's voice became suddenly alert. “I'm afraid Commander Ross is away from Jamaica . Is there anything I can do” There was a pause. “What name did you say”

“I didn't say any name. But in fact it's. . . .”

The voice broke in excitedly. “Don't tell