“No key to the filing cabinet,” said Bond truthfully.
“Sorry, my fault,” said Drax. He went to the desk and opened a drawer from which he took a small bunch of keys and handed them to Bond. “Should have given you these last night. The Inspector chap on the case asked me to hand them over to you. Sorry.”
“Thanks very much,” said Bond. He paused, “By the way, how long have you had Krebs?” He asked the question on an impulse. There was a moment’s quiet in the room.
“Krebs?” repeated Drax thoughtfully. He walked over to his desk and sat down. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a packet of his cork-tipped cigarettes. His blunt fingers scrabbled .with its cellophane wrapping. He extracted a cigarette and stuffed it into his mouth under the fringe of his reddish moustache and lit it.
Bond was surprised. “I didn’t realize one could smoke down here,” he said, taking out his own case.
Drax’s cigarette, a tiny white faggot in the middle of the big red face, waggled up and down as he answered without taking it out of his mouth. “Quite all right in here,” he said. “These rooms are air-tight. Doors lined with rubber. Separate ventilation. Have to keep the workshops and generators separate from the shaft and anyway,” his lips grinned round the cigarette,” I have to be able to smoke.”
Drax took the cigarette out of his mouth and looked at it. He seemed to make up his mind. “You were asking about Krebs,” he said. “Well,” he looked meaningly up at Bond, “just between ourselves I don’t entirely trust the fellow.” He held up an admonitory hand. “Nothing definite, of course, or I’d have had him put away, but I’ve found him snooping about the house and once I caught him in my study going through my private papers. He had a perfectly good explanation and I let him off with a warning. But quite honestly I have my suspicions of the man. Of course, he can’t do any harm. He’s part of the household staff and none of them are allowed in here but,” he looked candidly into Bond’s eyes, “I would have said you ought to concentrate on him. Bright of you to have bowled him out so quickly,” he added with respect. “What put you on to him?”
“Oh, nothing much,” said Bond. “He’s got a shifty look. But what you say’s interesting and I’ll certainly keep an eye on him.”
He turned to Gala Brand who had remained silent ever since they had entered the room.
“And what do you think of Krebs, Miss Brand?” he asked politely.
The girl spoke to Drax. “I don’t know much about these things, Sir Hugo,” she said with a modesty and a touch of impulsiveness which Bond admired. “But I don’t trust the man at all. I hadn’t meant to tell you, but he’s been poking around my room, opening letters and so forth. I know he has.”
Drax was shocked. “Has he indeed?” he said. He bashed his cigarette out in the ashtray and killed the glowing fragments one by one. “So much for Krebs,” he said, without looking up.
CHAPTER XV
ROUGH JUSTICE
THERE WAS a moment’s silence in the room during which Bond reflected how odd it was that suspicions should have fallen so suddenly and so unanimously on one man. And did that automatically clear all the others? Might not Krebs be the inside man of a gang? Or was he working on his own and, if so, with what object? And what did his snooping have to do with the death of Talon and Bartsch?
Drax broke the silence. “Well, that seems to settle it,” he said, looking to Bond for confirmation. Bond gave a noncommittal nod. “Just have to leave him to you. At all events, we must see he is kept well away from the site. As a matter of fact I shall be taking him to London tomorrow. Last-minute details to be settled with the Ministry and Walter can’t be spared. Krebs is the only man I’ve got who can do the work of an ADC. That’ll keep him out of trouble. We’ll all have to keep an eye on him until then. Unless of course you want to put him under lock and key straight away. I’d prefer not,” he said candidly. “Don’t want to upset the team any more.”