Napoleon

     That Bond knew he would eventually discover the identity of the man in the white lab coat made it no less frustrating for him. Bond was the sort of man who wanted to know things immediately. Have all the facts at his fingertips. Get on with the job at hand. The man had come through one of the doors into the main workshop at Façade. After coming through the door he had walked a few paces forward, stopped as if in thought, then, as though he had forgotten something, turned and went back through the door to get it. Bond hoped he would return immediately so he could get a better look at him but just then the receptionist called. “Mr Goldnojaws will see you now, Mr Band.”

     Dr Goldnojaws had got up and walked round his desk to welcome Bond. “Come in Mr Band. Take a seat.”
     Bond made it a habit never to make mental pictures of people he had never met before. He knew from experience that they always turned out to be anything like accurate pictures, quite the reverse often being the case. Names offered only false clues; how many people named Little were little when it came down to it, how many people called Stout turned out to be as thin as a lath? If a person’s name gave a clue as to what they looked like in the flesh then Bond would have expected Dr Goldnojaws to be about seven feet tall with red hair, a mouthful of sharp metal teeth and a gadget on his right hand that could crack nuts, both the ones you get in a shell and human types; a fanciful figure to say the very least.
     In the event if Goldnojaws had turned out to match the above description Bond would have been less surprised than he was on seeing the figure now standing at the side of his desk, a welcoming smile on his face. For Dr Goldnojaws was a dwarf. Not a midget, not an unusually small person whose limbs and features are of normal proportions, but a true dwarf, an abnormally small person with very short limbs and a head and body of near normal size. Bond would far rather his adversary had been about seven feet tall with red hair, a mouthful of sharp metal teeth and a gadget on his right hand that could crack nuts, as far from Goldnojaws’ size making him less of a threat Bond knew from experience that it would make him even more of a threat. History was littered with crazed, power hungry degenerates of small stature; Adolf Hitler, Napoleon, Ant and Dec, to name but a few.