Below La Casa Polipo was a small natural harbour. The dinghy put in here; the crew tied up and the passengers made their way up the steps towards the villa.

James was intrigued. Who was grand enough to arrive at Victor’s in a seaplane with their own military escort?

He swam round to the beach, fetched his towel and followed the party up to the villa.

Victor met James on the terrace; he looked amused and slightly flustered.

‘We have visitors,’ he said to James, who was standing dripping on to the tiled floor, wrapped in his towel.

‘I know,’ said James. ‘I saw them arrive in their seaplane. They nearly drowned me. Who are they?’

‘His Excellency Count Ugo Carnifex,’ said Victor with a faint mocking tone. ‘And his sister the Contessa Jana Carnifex.’

‘He sounds grand,’ said James. ‘Who is he?’

‘A local man. Big in the mining industry. He has a palazzo up in the mountains.’

‘And what’s he doing here?’

‘It seems he is just paying us a social call. I was looking for Mauro to serve some drinks. Have you seen him anywhere?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ said James.

‘Never mind,’ said Victor. ‘Come in and meet the man. I think you’ll find him interesting.’

James went indoors, and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. The first thing he saw was a pair of uniformed guards. They were standing awkwardly next to the stuffed giraffe and had the look of locals, with dark faces, sleepy eyes and drooping black moustaches. James didn’t recognise their uniforms. They weren’t police. He wondered if they might be part of the Sardinian army. The uniforms were certainly very extravagant. The trousers and tunics were a deep purple colour, with scarlet and gold trimmings. Their caps, which they wore jammed forward on their heads, had flat peaks that shaded their eyes.

Both men were armed with pistols that hung in black holsters on their hips above tall, highly polished boots.

One of the guards spotted James and looked him up and down before turning away with profound disinterest.

‘How do you like their uniforms?’ said a voice from the darkness at the back of the room. ‘I designed them myself.’

A very tall man was walking towards James. As he stepped into the light, James was hit by a shock of recognition.

It was the ghostly, white-skinned man from the painting he had seen in the cellar of the house in Eton. He even held his arm out in the same beckoning way.

James tried not to show anything in his face as he shook the offered hand.

‘Count Ugo,’ said Victor, ‘I would like to introduce my cousin from England, James Bond.’

‘Carnifex is pleased to meet you, James,’ said Ugo, flashing a silver tooth that caused him to lisp slightly.