Apparently no one. Then was he, Bond, right in his analysis? What was it based on? Was this glimpse through a shuttered window into a man’s soul sufficient evidence? Perhaps others had caught such a glimpse. Perhaps there had been other moments of supreme tension in Singapore, Hong Kong, Nigeria, Tangier, when some merchant sitting across a table from Drax had noticed the sweat and the bitten nails and the red blaze of the eyes in the face from which all the blood had suddenly been drained.
If one had time, thought Bond, one ought to seek those people out, if they existed, and really find out about this man, perhaps get him in the killing-bottle before it was too late.
Too late? Bond smiled to himself. What was he being so dramatic about? What had this man done to him? Made him a present of £15,000. Bond shrugged. It was none of his business anyway. But that last remark of his, ‘Spend it quickly, Commander Bond.’ What had he meant by that? It must be those words, Bond reflected, that had stayed in the back of his mind and made him ponder so carefully over the problem of Drax.
Bond turned brusquely away from the window. To hell with it, he thought. I’m getting obsessed myself. Now then. Fifteen thousand pounds. A miraculous windfall. All right then, he would spend it quickly. He sat down at his desk and picked up a pencil. He thought for a moment and then wrote carefully on a memorandum pad headed ‘Top Secret’:
(1) Rolls-Bentley Convertible, say £5000.
(2) Three diamond clips at £250 each, £750.
He paused. That still left nearly £10,000. Some clothes, paint the flat, a set of the new Henry Cotton irons, a few dozen of the Taittinger champagne. But those could wait. He would go that afternoon and buy the clips and talk to Bentleys. Put all the rest into gold shares. Make a fortune. Retire.
In angry protest the red telephone splintered the silence “Can you come up? M. wants you.” It was the Chief of Staff, speaking urgently.
“Coming,” said Bond, suddenly alert. “Any clue?”
“Search me,” said the Chief of Staff. “Hasn’t touched his signals yet. Been over at the Yard and the Ministry of Supply all the morning.”
He rang off.
CHAPTER IX
TAKE IT FROM HERE
A FEW minutes later Bond was walking through the familiar door and the green light had gone on over the entrance. M. looked sharply at him. “You look pretty dreadful, 007,” he said. “Sit down.”
It’s business, thought Bond, his pulse quickening. No Christian names today. He sat down. M. was studying some pencilled notes on a scratch-pad. He looked up. His eyes were no longer interested in Bond.
“Trouble down at Drax’s plant last night,” he said. “Double killing. Police tried to get hold of Drax. Didn’t think of Blades apparently. Caught up with him when he got back to the Ritz about half-past one this morning. Two men from the Moonraker got shot in a public house near the plant. Both dead. Drax told the police he couldn’t care less and then hung up. Typical of the man. He’s down there now. Taking the thing a bit more seriously, I gather.”
“Curious coincidence,” said Bond thoughtfully. “But where do we come in, sir? Isn’t it a police job?”
“Partly,” said M., “but it happens that we’re responsible for a lot of the key personnel down there. Germans,” he added. “I’d better explain.” He looked down at his pad. “It’s an RAF establishment and the cover-plan is that it’s part of the big radar network along the East Coast. The RAF are responsible for guarding the perimeter and the Ministry of Supply only has authority at the centre where the work is going on. It’s on the edge of the cliffs between Dover and Deal. The whole area covers about a thousand acres, but the site itself is about two hundred. On the site there are only Drax and fifty-two others left. All the construction team have gone.”
Pack of cards and a joker, reflected Bond. “Fifty of these are Germans,” continued M. “More or less all the guided missile experts the Russians didn’t get. Drax paid for them to come over here and work on the Moonraker. Nobody was very happy with the arrangement but there was no alternative. The Ministry of Supply couldn’t spare any of their experts from Woomera. Drax had to find his men where he could. To strengthen the RAF security people, the Ministry of Supply appointed their own security officer to live on the site. Man called Major Tallon.”