Once Tiffy had calmed down ,Bond st

Once Tiffy had calmed down ,Bond stood up and turned to face Scaramanga again.

‘That may have been a good circus act,
but it was rough on the girl. Give her some money,’ Bond demanded. Knowing Scaramanga ‘s history, Bond had used the word ‘circus’ again on purpose.

‘No,’ replied Scaramanga simply. Than, suspiciously,
‘And what’s all this talk of circuses? Like I said before,
are you with the cops22? You certainly seem like you are.’
(cop22 an informal word for a police officer)

‘People don’t tell me what to do. I tell them, ’
stated Bond, then he walked into the middle of the
room and sat down at a table. ‘Stop trying to give me
a hard timeP and come and sit down, ’ he added.

Scaramanga’s expression did not change.
He slowly walked across the room, picked up
one of the metal chairs, turned it around and sat down on it facing the wrong way round. His right hand rested on the top of his leg,

centimetres away from the handle of his gun, which was tucked into the top of his trousers. Bond recognized that this was a sensible working position for a gunman the metal back of the chair was in front of him protecting his body. This was certainly a most careful and professional man.
Bond, with both hands in full view on the table top, said in a relaxed way, ‘No, I’m not from the police. My name’s Mark Hazard. I’m from company called Transworld Consortium. I’ve been doing a job at Frome ,The WISCO sugar place. Do you know it?’

‘Of course I know it. What have you been doing there?’ asked Scaramanga.

‘Not so fast, my friend. First of all, who are you and what’s your business?’ said Bond firmly.

‘Scaramanga. Francisco Scaramanga. I work in labour relations23. “The Man with the Golden Gun ” is what they call me around here,’ he said coldly.
(labour relations23. The actions that are taken and the relationships that exist between employers and the people who work for them)

‘Well,’ said Bond, looking thoughtful, ‘a gun can be a useful tool for solving labour problems. We could do with you p up at Frome.’

‘Have they been having trouble up there?’ Scaramanga asked, but he looked bored.

‘Yes, they’ve been having too many sugar cane fires. One of the jobs of my company is insurance investigation24,’ lied Bond

‘Ah,’ sneered Scaramanga, ‘security work. I thought I could smell the cop-smell.’ He looked satisfied that his guess had been close enough. ‘Did you catch anyone?’

‘Most of them,’ explained Bond, ‘but not all of them. That’s why I say we could do with a good “labour relations” person up there.’

There was a pause and than Scaramanga asked Bond, ‘Do you carry a gun?’

‘Of course. You don’t go after people like that without one.’

‘What kind of gun?’ Scaramanga wanted to know.

‘A Walther PPK 7.65 millimetre,’ said Bond.

Scaramanga seemed impressed by this and remained silent for a moment. Then he turned to Tiffy.

‘Hey, two bottles of beer, if you’re in business again.’ He turned back and looked hard at Bond. ‘What’s your next job?’