‘He looks almost happy, doesn’t he? The fool,’ said a voice, and James became aware of a sour-sweet, sickly smell of decay. He turned to see a man with his arm in a sling, his shoulder heavily bandaged. He seemed slightly feverish and had extraordinary grey eyes with irises so pale they looked almost white.

‘Look at him,’ said man, pointing to the saint. ‘Do you think he wants to die?’

James didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.

‘He wants to go to heaven and see his god,’ the man went on, his voice heavily accented. ‘I fear he will be disappointed. This painting is a lie. I have seen men die, good men, strong men, brave men. And at the end it is always the same. Terror. Do you know what every man thinks of the last thing before he dies? Even the toughest man?’

‘No,’ said James. ‘God maybe.’

‘God?’ said the man, and he laughed. ‘No, he thinks of his mother. He cries out for her. “Mama…” It is a pitiful thing to hear. I was in many battles in the war. The worst thing was knowing that I would be the same as everyone else. I knew that one day I would be sitting in the mud with my guts spilt out into my lap, trying to stuff them back inside me, crying like a baby and calling for my mother.’ He sniffed and turned to James. ‘The best you can hope for is a clean death and a quick one,’ he said. ‘One day you may have to fight in a war. One day you might have to kill a man. And you will have to have a hard heart. To look someone in the eye and see his fear, to know that this was some mother’s child, that is a difficult thing.’

The man fell silent for a while, lost in thought and James still didn’t know what to say. Finally he snapped out of it and offered his good hand to James.

‘I am Zoltan the Magyar, by the way,’ he said. ‘And who are you?’

‘Bond, James Bond.’

‘Ah. Victor Delacroix’s young cousin?’

‘Yes. Do you know him then?’

‘There was talk about you at dinner last night,’ said Zoltan. ‘Ugo was expecting you to arrive with Victor.’

‘I… I couldn’t come before.’

‘But now you are here?’

‘I have some news for Victor, some bad news. I need to find him. A guard’s gone to look I think, but –’

‘Ugo’s guards are useless,’ said Zoltan. ‘I will find your cousin for you. Trust me.’

Zoltan smiled and walked away.

James took one last look at the painting before going to sit down again. Mauro was lying on the bench, snoring, and James envied him.