Moonraker Read Online Free Page B

off. He’s always a big winner and they play high at Blades. He hasn’t lost on a weekly settlement since he joined a year ago. We’ve got two or three of the finest players in the world in the Club and none of them has ever had a record like that over twelve months. It’s getting talked about in a sort of joking way and I think Basil-don’s right to do something about it. What system do you suppose Drax has got?”
Bond was longing for his lunch. The Chief of Staff must have given him up half an hour ago. He could have talked to M. about cheating for hours, and M., who never seemed to be interested in food or sleep, would have listened to everything and remembered it afterwards. But Bond was hungry.
“Assuming he’s not a professional, sir, and can’t doctor the cards in any way, there are only two answers. He’s either looking, or else he’s got a system of signals with his partner. Does he often play with the same man?”
“We always cut for partners after each rubber,” said M. “Unless there’s a challenge. And on guest nights, Mondays and Thursdays, you stick to your guest. Drax nearly always brings a man called Meyer, his metal broker. Nice chap. Jew. Very fine player.”
“I might be able to tell if I watched,” said Bond.
“That’s what I was going to say,” said M. “How about coming along tonight? At any rate you’ll get a good dinner. Meet you there about six. I’ll take some money off you at piquet and we’ll watch the bridge for a little. After dinner we’ll have a rubber or two with Drax and his friend. They’re always there on Monday. All right? Sure I’m not taking you away from your work?”
“No, sir,” said Bond with a grin. “And I’d like to come very much. Bit of a busman’s holiday. And if Drax is cheating, I’ll show him I’ve spotted it and that should be enough to warn him off. I wouldn’t like to see him get into a mess. That all, sir?”
“Yes, James,” said M. “And thank you for your help. Drax must be a bloody fool. Obviously a bit of a crank. But it isn’t the man I’m worried about. I wouldn’t like to chance anything going wrong with this rocket of his. And Drax more or less is the Moonraker. Well, see you at six. Don’t bother about dressing. Some of us do for dinner and some of us don’t. Tonight we won’t. Better go along now and sandpaper your fingertips or whatever you sharpers do.”
Bond smiled back at M. and got to his feet. It sounded a promising evening. As he walked over to the door and let himself out he reflected that here at last was an interview with M. that didn’t cast a shadow.
M’s secretary was still at her desk. There was a plate of sandwiches and a glass of milk beside her typewriter. She looked sharply at Bond, but there was nothing to be read in his expression.
“I suppose he gave up,” said Bond.
“Nearly an hour ago,” said Miss Moneypenny reproachfully. “It’s half-past two. He’ll be back any minute now.”
“I’ll go down to the canteen before it closes,” he said. “Tell him I’ll pay for his lunch next time.” He smiled at her and walked out into the corridor and along to the lift.
There were only a few people left in the officers’ canteen. Bond sat by himself and ate a grilled sole, a large mixed salad with his own dressing laced with mustard, some Brie cheese and toast, and half a carafe of white Bordeaux. He had two cups of black coffee and was back in his office by three. With half his mind preoccupied with M.’s problem, he hurried through the rest of the NATO file, said goodbye to his secretary after telling her where he would be that evening, and at four-thirty was collecting his car from the staff garage at the back of the building.
“Supercharger’s whining a bit, sir,” said the ex-RAF mechanic who regarded Bond’s Bentley as his own property. “Take it down tomorrow if you won’t be needing her at lunch-time.”
“Thanks,” said Bond, “that’ll be fine.” He took the car quietly