CASINO ROYALE by Ian Fleming

Mathis fiddled at the back of the set. Suddenly an appalling roar of static filled the small room. Mathis gazed at the set for a few seconds with benevolence and then turned it off and his voice was full of dismay.

‘My dear monsieur – forgive me please – badly tuned,’ and he again bent to the dials. After a few adjustments the close harmony of the French came over the air and Mathis walked up and clapped Bond very hard on the back and wrang his hand until Bond’s fingers ached.

Bond smiled back at him. ‘Now, what the hell?’ he asked.

‘My dear friend,’ Mathis was delighted, ‘you are blown, blown, blown. Up there,’ he pointed at the ceiling, ‘at this moment, either Monsieur Muntz or his alleged wife, allegedly bedridden with the grippe, is deafened, absolutely deafened, and I hope in agony.’ He grinned with pleasure at Bond’s frown of disbelief.

Mathis sat down on the bed and ripped open a packet of Caporal with his thumbnail. Bond waited.

Mathis was satisfied with the sensation his words had caused. He became serious.

‘How it has happened I don’t know. They must have been on to you for several days before you arrived. The opposition is here in real strength. Above you is the Muntz family. He is German. She is from somewhere in Central Europe, perhaps a Czech. This is an old-fashioned hotel. There are disused chimneys behind these electric fires. Just here,’ he pointed a few inches above the panel fire, ‘is suspended a very powerful radio pick-up. The wires run up the chimney to behind the Muntzes’ electric fire where there is an amplifier. In their room is a wire-recorder and a pair of earphones on which the Muntzes listen in turn. That is why Madame Muntz has the grippe and takes all her meals in bed and why Monsieur Muntz has to be constantly at her side instead of enjoying the sunshine and the gambling of this delightful resort.

‘Some of this we knew because in France we are very clever. The rest we confirmed by unscrewing your electric fire a few hours before you got here.’

Suspiciously Bond walked over and examined the screws which secured the panel to the wall. Their grooves showed minute scratches.

‘Now it is time for a little more play-acting,’ said Mathis. He walked over to the radio, which was still transmitting close harmony to its audience of three, and switched it off.

‘Are you satisfied, monsieur?’ he asked. ‘You notice how clearly they came over. Are they not a wonderful team?’ He made a winding motion with his right hand and raised his eyebrows.

‘They are so good,’ said Bond, ‘that I would like to hear the rest of the programme.’ He grinned at the thought of the angry glances which the Muntzes must be exchanging overhead. ‘The machine itself seems splendid. Just what I was looking for to take back to Jamaica.’

Mathis made a sarcastic grimace and switched back to the Rome programme.

‘You and your Jamaica,’ he said, and sat down again on the bed.

Bond frowned at him. ‘Well, it’s no good crying over spilt milk,’ he said. ‘We didn’t expect the cover to stick for long, but it’s worrying that they bowled it out so soon.’ He searched his mind in vain for a clue. Could the Russians have broken one of our ciphers? If so, he might just as well pack up and go home. He and his job would have been stripped naked.

Mathis seemed to read his mind. ‘It can’t have been a cipher,’ he said. ‘Anyway, we told London at once and they will have changed them. A pretty flap we caused, I can tell you.’ He smiled with the satisfaction of a friendly rival. ‘And now to business, before our good “Compagnons” run out of breath.

‘First of all,’ and he inhaled a thick lungful of Caporal, ‘you will be pleased with your Number Two. She is very beautiful’ – Bond frowned – ‘very beautiful indeed.’ Satisfied with Bond’s reaction, Mathis continued: ‘She has black hair, blue eyes, and splendid . . . er . . . protuberances. Back and front,’ he added. ‘And she is a wireless expert which, though sexually less interesting, makes her a perfect employee of Radio Stentor and assistant to myself in my capacity as wireless salesman for this rich summer season down here.’ He grinned. ‘We are both staying in the hotel and my assistant will thus be on hand in case your new radio breaks down. All new machines, even French ones, are apt to have teething troubles in the first day or two. And occasionally at night,’ he added with an exaggerated wink.

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