if.moonraker-第5部分
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t the club； of course； but above all he wants to save Drax from making a fool of himself。 He admires him as much as we all do and he's terrified of an incident。 You couldn't stop a scandal like that getting out。 A lot of MPs are members and it would soon get talked about in the Lobby。 Then the gossip…writers would get hold of it。 Drax would have to resign from Blades and the next thing there'd be a libel action brought in his defence by one of his friends。 Tranby Croft all over again。 At least； that's how Basildon's mind is working and I must say I can see it that way too。 Anyway；〃 said M。 with finality； 〃I've agreed to help and〃； he looked levelly at Bond； 〃that's where you e in。 You're the best card…player in the Service； or；〃 he smiled ironically； 〃you should be after the casino jobs you've been on； and I remembered that we'd spent quite a lot of money putting you through a course in card…sharping before you went after those Roumanians in Monte Carlo before the war。〃
Bond smiled grimly。 〃Steffi Esposito；〃 he said softly。 〃That was the chap。 American。 Made me work ten hours a day for a week learning a thing called the Riffle Stack and how to deal Seconds and Bottoms and Middles。 I wrote a long report about it at the time。 Must be buried in Records。 He knew every trick in the game。 How to wax the aces so that the pack will break at them； Edge Work and Line Work with a razor on the backs of the high cards； Trimming； Arm Pressure Holdouts…mechanical gadgets up your sleeve that feed you cards。 Belly Strippers…trimming a whole pack less than a millimetre down both sides； but leaving a slight belly on the cards you're interested in…the aces； for instance。 Shiners； tiny mirrors built into rings； or fitted into the bottom of a pipe…bowl。 Actually；〃 Bond admitted； 〃it was his tip about Luminous Readers that helped me on that Monte Carlo job。 A croupier was using an invisible ink the team could pick out with special glasses。 But Steffi was a wonderful chap。 Scotland Yard found him for us。 He could shuffle the pack once and then cut the four aces out of it。 Absolute magic。〃
〃Sounds a bit too professional for our man；〃 mented M。 〃That sort of work needs hours of practice every day； or an acplice； and I can't believe he'd find that at Blades。 No； there's nothing sensational about his cheating and for all
I know it might be a fantastic run of luck。 It's odd。 He's not a particularly good player…he only plays bridge by the way…but quite often he brings off bids or doubles or finesses that are absolutely phenomenal…quite against the odds。 Or the conventions。 But they e 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 ing 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 e 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 out into the park and over to Baker Street； the two…inch exhaust bubbling fatly in his wake。
He was home in fifteen minutes。 He left the car under the plane trees in the little square and let himself into the ground floor of the converted Regency house； went into the book…lined sitting…room and； after a moment's search； pulled Scarne on Cards out of its shelf and dropped it on the ornate Empire desk near the broad window。
He walked through into the smallish bedroom with the white and gold Cole wallpaper and the deep red curtains； undressed and threw his clothes； more or less tidily； on the dark blue counterpane of the double bed。 Then he went into the bathroom and had a quick shower。 Before leaving the bathroom he examined his face in the glass and decided that he had no intention of sacrificing a lifetime prejudice by shaving twice in one day。
In the glass； the grey…blue eyes looked back at him with the extra light they held when his mind was focused on a problem that interested him。 The lean； hard face had a hungry； petitive edge to it。 There was something swift and intent in the way he ran his fingers along his jaw and in the impatient stroke of the hairbrush to put back the ma of black hair that fell down an inch above his right eyebrow。 It crossed his mind that； with the fading of his sunburn； the scar down the right cheek that had shown so white was beginning to be less prominent； and automatically he glanced down his naked body and registered that the almost indecent white area left by his bathing trunks was less sharply defined。 He smiled at some memory and went through into the bedroom。
Ten minutes later； in a heavy white silk shirt； dark blue trousers of Navy serge； dark blue socks； and well…polished black moccasin shoes； he was sitting at his desk
