Page 125 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner

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CHINESE BOXES

Bond just stood at the window, actually rubbing his eyes, not believing the
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unexpected view. It was unmistakable, even to the distinctive blue haze which
gives that particular chain of mountains its name. He frowned, trying to think

logically. They had entered the house at the front directly into the ground floor,
and gone into Lee’s study. From there they had been taken down to the guest
suite. He remembered counting the stairs, and worked out that they were at
least fourteen feet below the ground. So, unless the house was built on the

split-level principle, there should be no view at all from these windows.
Turning, Bond walked quickly to the door, opening it to find his clean
laundry, carefully wrapped, reposing on a small folding stool. He paused to
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pick it up, leaving it in the bedroom before returning to the corridor to retrace

their footsteps up the stairs and into Brokenclaw’s study.
The sunlight streamed into this room also, and there was the same view. The
Blue Ridge. No argument. Yet something worried him. Either his eyesight was
playing tricks or the glass in the windows did something to the peripheral

vision. He stepped back to take a look from well inside the room.
‘So you’re an early riser also. A lovely morning, Peter, eh? You like the
view we have from here? Spectacular, isn’t it?’ Lee had emerged from a door
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to his left.
‘Incredible!’ Bond heard the note of surprise and bafflement in his own
voice.
Brokenclaw gave a low chuckle. ‘I did not expect to find you about yet. You
should have slept, rested.’

‘Jenny is still asleep.’

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