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 arid 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.