«Bond,» said M. «James Bond. Yes, I think we’d like that very much. What do you say, James?»
Bond’s eyes were glued to the bent head and slowly moving hands of the dealer. Yes, that was it! Got you, you bastard. A Shiner. A simple, bloody Shiner that wouldn’t have lasted five minutes in a pro’s game. M. saw the glint of assurance in Bond’s eyes as they met across the table.
«Fine,» said Bond cheerfully. «Couldn’t be better.» He made an imperceptible movement of the head. «How about showing me the Betting Book before dinner? You always say it’ll amuse me.»
M. nodded. «Yes, Come along. It’s in the Secretary’s office. Then Basildon can come down and give us a cocktail and tell us the result of this death-struggle.» He got up.
«Order what you want,» said Basildon with a sharp glance at M. «I’ll be down directly we’ve polished them off.»
«Around nine then,» said Drax, glancing from M. to Bond. «Show him the bet about the girl in the balloon.» He picked up his hand. «Looks Eke I shall have the Casino’s money to play with,» he said after a rapid glance at his cards. «Three No Trumps.» He shot a triumphant glance at Basildon. «Put that in your pipe and smoke it.»
Bond, following M. out of the room, missed Basildon’s reply.
They walked down the stairs and along to the Secretary’s office in silence. The room was in darkness. M. switched on the light and went and sat down in the swivel chair in front of the busy-looking desk. He turned the chair to face Bond who had walked over to the empty fireplace and was taking out a cigarette.
«Any luck?» he asked looking up at him.
«Yes,» said Bond. «He cheats all right.»
«Ah,» said M. unemotionally. «How does he do it?»
«Only on the deal,» said Bond. «You know that silver cigarette-case he has in front of him, with his lighter? He never takes cigarettes from it. Doesn’t want to get fingermarks on the surface. It’s plain silver and very highly polished. When he deals, it’s almost concealed by the cards and his big hands. And he doesn’t move his hands away from it. Deals four piles quite close to him. Every card is reflected in the top of the case. It’s just as good as a mirror although it looks perfectly innocent lying there. As he’s such a good businessman it would be normal for him to have a first-class memory. You remember I told you about ‘Shiners’? Well, that’s just a version of one. No wonder he brings off these miraculous finesses every once in a while. That double we watched was easy. He knew his partner had the guarded queen. With his two aces the double was a certainty. The rest of the time he just plays his average game. But knowing all the cards on every fourth deal is a terrific edge. It’s not surprising he always shows a profit.»
«But one doesn’t notice him doing it,» protested M.
«It’s quite natural to look down when one’s dealing,» said Bond. «Everybody does. And he covers up with a lot of banter, much more than he produces when someone else is dealing. I expect he’s got very good peripheral vision—the thing they mark us so highly for when we take our medical for the Service. Very wide angle of sight.»
The door opened and Basildon came in. He was bristling. He shut the door behind him. «That dam’ shut-out bid of Drax’s,» he exploded. «Tommy and I could have made four hearts if we could have got around to bidding it. Between them they had the ace of hearts, six club tricks, and the ace, king of diamonds and a bare guard in spades. Made nine tricks straight off. How he had the face to open Three No Trumps I can’t imagine.» He calmed down a little. «Well, Miles,» he said, «has your friend got the answer?»
M. gestured to Bond, who repeated what he had told M.
Lord Basildon’t face got angrier as Bond talked.
«Damn the man,» he exploded when Bond had finished. «What the hell does he want to do that for? Bloody millionaire. Rolling in money. Fine scandal we’re in for. I’ll simply have to tell the Committee. Haven’t had a cheating case since the ’fourteen-eighteen war.» He paced up and down the room. The club was quickly forgotten as he remembered the significance of Drax himself. «And they say this rocket of his is going to be ready before long. Only comes up here once or twice a week for a bit of relaxation. Why, the man’s a public hero! this is terrible.»
Basildon’s anger was chilled by the thought of his responsibility. He turned to M. for help. «Now, Miles, what am I to do? He’s won thousands of pounds in this club and others have lost it. Take this evening. It doesn’t matter about my losses, of course. But what about Dangerfield? I happen to know he’s been having a bad time on the stock market lately. I don’t see how I can avoid telling the Committee. Can’t shirk it—whoever Drax is. And you know what that’ll mean. There are ten on the Committee. Bound to be a leak. And then look at the scandal. They tell me the Moonraker can’t exist without Drax and the papers say the whole future of the country depends on the thing. This is a damned serious business.» He paused and shot a hopeful glance at M. and then at Bond. «Is there any alternative?»
Bond stubbed out his cigarette. «He could be stopped,» he said quietly. «That is,» he added with a thin smile, «if you don’t mind paying him out in his own coin.»
«Do anything you bloody well like,» said Basildon emphatically. «What are you thinking of?» Hope dawned in his eyes at Bond’s assurance.
«Well,» said Bond. «I could show him I’d spotted him and at the same time flay the hide off him at his own game. Of course Meyer’d get hurt in the process. Might lose a lot of money as Drax’s partner. Would that matter?»
«Serve him right,» said Basildon, overcome with relief and ready to grasp at any solution. «He’s been riding along on Drax’s back. Making plenty of money playing with him. You don’t think…»
«No,» said Bond. «I’m sure he doesn’t know what’s going on. Although some of Drax’s bids must come as a bit of a shock. Well,» he turned to M., «is it all right with you, sir?»
M. reflected. He looked at Basildon. There was no doubt of his view.
He looked at Bond. «All right,» he said. «What must be, must be. Don’t like the idea, but I can see Basildon’s point. So long as you can bring it off and,» he smiled, «as long as you don’t want me to palm any cards or anything of that sort. No talent for it.»
«No,» said Bond. He put his hands in his coat pockets and touched the two silk handkerchiefs. «And I think it should work. All I need is a couple of packs of used cards, one of each colour, and ten minutes in here alone.»
CHAPTER V
DINNER AT BLADES
IT WAS eight o’clock as Bond followed M. through the tall doors, across the well of the staircase from the card room, that opened into the beautiful white and gold Regency dining-room of Blades.
M. chose not to hear a call from Basildon who was presiding over the big centre table where there were still two places vacant. Instead, he walked firmly across the room to the end one of a row of six smaller tables, waved Bond into the comfortable armed chair that faced outwards into the room, and himself took the one on Bond’s left so that his back was to the company.
The head steward was already behind Bond’s chair. He placed a broad menu card beside his plate and handed another to M. ‘Blades’ was written in fine gold script across the top. Below there was a forest of print.