“Compound fracture of the tibia,” said the matron. “No complications.” She smiled. “Except that he's a bit fresh with the nurses. He should be walking with a stick in ten days. He's already seen the police. I suppose it's all to do with that story in the Gleaner about those American tourists being killed when the Orange River Bridge collapsed. But the Commissioner's handling it all personally. The story in the Gleaner's very vague.”
The doctor smiled. “Nobody tells me anything. Just as well. I haven't got the tune to listen to them. Well, thank you, matron. I must get along. Multiple crash at Halfway Tree. The ambulances'll be here any minute.” He hurried away. The matron went about her business. The nurse, excited by all this high-level talk, went softly back into the green-shaded room, tidied the sheet over the naked right shoulder of her patient where the doctor had pulled it down, and went back to her chair at the end of the bed and her copy of Ebony.
Ten days later, the little room was crowded. James Bond, propped up among extra pillows, was amused by the galaxy of officialdom that had been assembled. On his left was the Commissioner of Police, resplendent in his black uniform with silver insignia. On his right was a justice of the Supreme Court in full regalia, accompanied by a deferential clerk. A massive figure, to whom Felix Leiter, on crutches, was fairly respectful, had been introduced as “Colonel Bannister” from Washington . Head of Station C, a quiet civil servant called Alec Hill, who had been flown out from London , stood near the door and kept his appraising eyes unwaveringly on Bond. Mary Goodnight, who was to take notes of the proceedings but also, on the matron's strict instructions, watch for any sign of fatigue in James Bond and have absolute authority to close the meeting if he showed strain, sat demurely beside the bed with a shorthand pad on her knees. But James Bond felt no strain. He was delighted to see all these people and know that at last he was back in the great world again. The only matters that worried him were that he had not been allowed to see Felix Leiter before the meeting to agree their stories and that he had been rather curtly advised by the High Commissioner's Office that legal representation would not be necessary.
The Police Commissioner cleared his throat. He said, “Commander Bond, our meeting here today is largely a formality, but it is held on the Prime Minister's instructions and with your doctor's approval. There are many rumours running around the island and abroad, and Sir Alexander Bustamante is most anxious to have them dispelled for the sake of justice and of the island's good name. So this meeting is in the nature of a judicial inquiry having Prime Ministerial status. We very much hope that, if the conclusions of the meeting are satisfactory, there need be no more legal proceedings whatever. You understand?”
“Yes,” said Bond--who didn't.
“Now,” the Commissioner spoke weightily. 'The facts as ascertained are as follows. Recently there took place at the Thunderbird Hotel in the Parish of Westmoreland a meeting of what can only be described as foreign gangsters of outstanding notoriety, including representatives of the Soviet secret service, the Mafia, and the Cuban secret police. The objects of this meeting were, inter alia, sabotage of Jamaican installations in the cane industry, stimulation of illicit ganja-growing in the island and purchase of the crop for export, the bribery of a high Jamaican official with the object of installing gangster-run gambling in the island, and sundry other malfeasances deleterious to law and order in Jamaica and to her international standing. Am I correct, Commander?"
“Yes,” said Bond, this tune with a clear conscience.
“Now.” The Commissioner spoke with even greater emphasis. “The intentions of this subversive group became known to the Criminal Investigation Department of the Jamaican police and the facts of the proposed assembly were placed before the Prime Minister in person by myself. Naturally the greatest secrecy was observed. A decision then had to be reached as to how this meeting was to be kept under surveillance and penetrated so that its intentions might be learned. Since friendly nations, including Britain and the United States , were involved, secret conversations took place with the representatives of the Ministry of Defence in Britain and of the Central Intelligence Agency in the United States . As a result, expert personnel in the shape of yourself, Mr. Nicholson and Mr. Leiter were generously made available, at no cost to the Jamaican government, to assist in unveiling these secret machinations against Jamaica held on Jamaican soil.” The Commissioner paused and looked round the room to see if he had stated the position correctly. Bond noticed that Felix Leiter nodded his head vigorously with the others, but, in his case, in Bond's direction.
Bond smiled. He had at last got the message. He also nodded his agreement.
“Accordingly,” continued the Commissioner, “and working throughout under the closest liaison and direction of the Jamaican C.I.D., Messrs. Bond, Nicholson, and Leiter carried out their duties in exemplary fashion. The true intentions of the gangsters were unveiled, but alas, in the process, the identity of at least one of the Jamaica-controlled agents was discovered and a battle royal took place. During the course of this, thanks to the superior gunfire of Commander Bond the following enemy agents-- here there will be a list--were killed. Immediately after, thanks to Mr. Letter's ingenious use of explosive on the Orange River Bridge , the following--another list--lost their lives. Unfortunately, two of the Jamaica-controlled agents received severe wounds from which they are now recovering in the Memorial Hospital . It remains to mention the names of Constable Percival Sampson of the Negril Constabulary, who was first on the scene of the final battlefield, and Dr. Lister Smith of Savannah La Mar, who rendered vital first aid to Commander Bond and Mr. Leiter. On the instructions of the Prune Minister, Sir Alexander Bustamante, a judicial inquiry was held this day at the bedside of Commander Bond and in the presence of Mr. Felix Leiter to confirm the above facts. These, in the presence of Justice Morris Cargill of the Supreme Court, are now and hereby confirmed.”
The Commissioner was obviously delighted with his rendering of all this rigmarole. He beamed at Bond. “It only remains” he handed Bond a sealed packet, a similar one to Felix Leiter, and one to Colonel Bannister--“to confer on Commander Bond of Great Britain, Mr. Felix Leiter of the United States, and, in absentia, Mr. Nicholas Nicholson of the United States, the immediate award of the Jamaican Police Medal for gallant and meritorious services to the Independent State of Jamaica.”
There was muted applause. Mary Goodnight went on clapping after the others had stopped. She suddenly realized the fact, blushed furiously, and stopped.
James Bond and Felix Leiter made stammered acknowledgments. Justice Cargill rose to his feet and, in solemn tones, asked Bond and Leiter in turn, “Is this a true and correct account of what occurred between the given dates?”
“Yes, indeed,” said Bond.