A tug hooted on the river. Another answered. A flurry of engine noises receded.
Mr Jed Midnight, on Bond’s right, cleared his throat. He said emphatically, ‘Mister Gold, or whatever your name is, don’t you worry about definitions. A billion dollars is a lot of money whichever way you say it. Keep talking.’
Mr Solo raised slow black eyes and looked across the table at Goldfinger. He said, ‘Is very moch money, yess. But how moch your cut, mister?’
‘Five billion.’
Jack Strap from Las Vegas gave a short boisterous laugh. ‘Listen fellers, what’s a few billion between friends. If Mister — er — Whoosis can lead me to a billion dollars I’ll be glad to slip him a fin or even maybe a mega-fin for his trouble. Don’t let’s be small-minded about this, huh?’
Mr Helmut Springer tapped his monocle on
