007 Complete Series - 21 James Bond Novels in One Volume. Ian Fleming

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СКАЧАТЬ you like it," he said. "Comes from one of the Rothschild estates at Cognac. About a hundred years ago one of the family bequeathed us a barrel of it every year in perpetuity. During the war they hid a barrel for us every year and then sent us over the whole lot in 1945. Ever since then we've been drinking doubles. And," he gathered up his cards, "now we shall have to concentrate."

      Bond picked up his hand. It was average. A bare two-and-a-half quick tricks, the suits evenly distributed. He reached for his cheroot and gave it a final draw, then killed it in the ashtray.

      "Three clubs," said Drax.

      No bid from Bond.

      Four clubs from Meyer.

      No bid from M.

      Hm, thought Bond. He's not quite got the cards for a game call this time. Shut-out call--knows that his partner has got a bare raise. M. may have got a perfectly good bid. We may have all the hearts between us, for instance. But M. never gets a bid. Presumably they'll make four clubs.

      They did, with the help of one finesse through Bond. M. turned out not to have had hearts, but a long string of diamonds, missing only the king, which was in Meyer's hand and would have been caught. Drax didn't have nearly enough length for a three call. Meyer had the rest of the clubs.

      Anyway, thought Bond as he dealt the next hand, we were lucky to escape without a game call.

      Their good luck continued. Bond opened a No Trump, was put up to three by M., and they made it with an over-trick. On Meyer's deal they went one down in five diamonds, but on the next hand M. opened four spades and Bond's three small trumps and an outside king, queen were all M. needed for the contract.

      First rubber to M. and Bond. Drax looked annoyed. He had lost £900 on the rubber and the cards seemed to be running against them.

      "Shall we go straight on?" he asked. "No point in cutting."

      M. smiled across at Bond. The same thought was in both their minds. So Drax wanted to keep the deal. Bond shrugged his shoulders.

      "No objection," said M. "These seats seem to be doing their best for us."

      "Up to now," said Drax, looking more cheerful.

      And with reason. On the next hand he and Meyer bid and made a small slam in spades that required two hair-raising finesses, both of which Drax, after a good deal of pantomime and hemming and hawing, negotiated smoothly, each time commenting loudly on his good fortune.

      "Hugger, you're wonderful," said Meyer fulsomely. "How the devil do you do it?"

      Bond thought it time to sow a tiny seed. "Memory," he said.

      Drax looked at him, sharply. "What do you mean, memory?" he said. "What's that got to do with taking a finesse?"

      "I was going to add 'and card sense'," said Bond smoothly. "They're the two qualities that make great card-players."

      "Oh," said Drax slowly. "Yes, I see." He cut the cards to Bond and as Bond dealt he felt the other man's eyes examining him carefully.

      The game proceeded at an even pace. The cards refused to get hot and no one seemed inclined to take chances. M. doubled Meyer in an incautious four-spade bid and got him two down vulnerable, but on the next hand Drax went out with a lay down three No Trumps. Bond's win on the first rubber was wiped out and a bit more besides.

      "Anyone care for a drink?" asked M. as he cut the cards to Drax for the third rubber. "James. A little more champagne. The second bottle always tastes better."

      "I'd like that very much," said Bond.

      The waiter came. The others ordered whiskies and sodas.

      Drax turned to Bond. "This game needs livening up," he said. "A hundred we win this hand." He had completed the deal and the cards lay in neat piles in the centre of the table.

      Bond looked at him. The damaged eye glared at him redly. The other was cold and hard and scornful. There were beads of sweat on either side of the large, beaky nose.

      Bond wondered if he was having a fly thrown over him to see if he was suspicious of the deal. He decided to leave the man in doubt. It was a hundred down the drain, but it would give him an excuse for increasing the stakes later.

      "On your deal?" he said with a smile. "Well," he weighed imaginary chances. "Yes. All right." An idea seemed to come to him. "And the same on the next hand. If you like," he added.

      "All right, all right," said Drax impatiently. "If you want to throw good money after bad."

      "You seem very certain about this hand," said Bond indifferently, picking up his cards. They were a poor lot and he had no answer to Drax's opening No Trump except to double it. The bluff had no effect on Drax's partner. Meyer said "Two No Trumps" and Bond was relieved when M., with no long suit, said "No bid". Drax left it in two No Trumps and made the contract.

      "Thanks," he said with relish, and wrote carefully on his score. "Now let's see if you can get it back."

      Much to his annoyance, Bond couldn't. The cards still ran for Meyer and Drax and they made three hearts and the game.

      Drax was pleased with himself. He took a long swallow at his whisky and soda and wiped down his face with his bandana handkerchief.

      "God is with the big battalions," he said jovially. "Got to have the cards as well as play them. Coming back for more or had enough?"

      Bond's champagne had come and was standing beside him in its silver bucket. There was a glass goblet three-quarters full beside it on the side table. Bond picked it up and drained it, as if to give himself Dutch courage. Then he filled it again.

      "All right," he said thickly, "a hundred on the next two hands."

      And promptly lost them both, and the rubber.

      Bond suddenly realized that he was nearly £1,500 down. He drank another glass of champagne. "Save trouble if we just double the stakes on this rubber," he said rather wildly. "All right with you?"

      Drax had dealt and was looking at his cards. His lips were wet with anticipation. He looked at Bond who seemed to be having difficulty lighting his cigarette. "Taken," he said quickly. "A hundred pounds a hundred and a thousand on the rubber." Then he felt he could risk a touch of sportsmanship. Bond could hardly cancel the bet now. "But I seem to have got some good tickets here," he added. "Are you still on?"

      "Of course, of course," said Bond, clumsily picking up his hand. "I made the bet, didn't I?"

      "All right, then," said Drax with satisfaction. "Three No Trumps here."

      He made four.

      Then, to Bond's relief, the cards turned. Bond bid and made a small slam in hearts and on the next hand M. ran out in three No Trumps.

      Bond grinned cheerfully into the sweating face. Drax was picking angrily at his nails. "Big battalions," said Bond, rubbing it in.

      Drax growled something and busied himself with the score.

      Bond looked across at M., who was putting a match, with evident satisfaction at the way the game had gone, to СКАЧАТЬ