Page 13 - Brokenclaw - John Gardner

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wooden wings were outstretched and the carved faces with long aggressive

beaks looked as though they might come alive, attacking, ripping and tearing at
anyone who threatened those under their protection. From somewhere, hidden
within this large room, came the sound of Indian chants and the steady thud of
James Bond OO7 - printing disabledade the short hairs on the back of his neck stiffen. James Bond OO7 - printing disabled James Bond OO7 - printing disabled
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Quietly he moved on through the Big House which opened up into the Art
Gallery containing more beautifully carved totems, bearing crests, faces,
entwined snakes and the figureheads of a myriad supernatural beings which
guarded and cared for homes and villages.

A semicircle of people was gathered around a weathered, intricately
worked, tall totem with two stubby wings near the top.
Bond moved quietly into this little group of people, his eyes searching faces
until he found Lee standing at the base of the totem, his bodyguards behind him.
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A small aesthetic-looking man, wearing pince-nez on a nose that appeared too
big for his face, was speaking, and Bond noticed that Lee seemed to have
shrunk, as though he could disguise his size and dominating presence. It was
almost a theatrical trick, as if the man could disappear into the crowd in spite

of his commanding bearing. But it worked. By rights everyone’s eyes should
have been on Lee, but the people gathered for whatever this ceremony
represented, looked at and listened attentively to the speaker, who was
obviously one of the senior curators, or a member of the museum’s board.

‘This generous act,’ the official was saying, ‘is typical of the great
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benevolence Mr Lee has shown to the various communities of Vancouver
Island. It is a selfless gesture, to give – not lend – this ancient totem to the
museum, a totem that has been connected with his family for the best part of a

century. We are grateful, and only wish that Mr Lee could live permanently
among us. Though, as you know, he maintains a property on the island, his
business interests in the United States and in Europe allow him to be with us
all too rarely. But he is here today, and I am going to ask him to say a few

words to us before we take this valuable carving under our care. Ladies and
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gentlemen, Mr Lee Fu-Chu.’
So, Bond thought, that was it. Lee was some kind of half-breed, part Chinese
and part . . . what? Before he could even think about it, he saw Lee go through

an amazing transformation. Until that moment, this giant of a man had been
almost a bystander, now he straightened and came forward, drawn up to his
full height, his left arm straight with the hand balled behind his left thigh, the

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