Bond’s eyes were turned inwards, remembering. ‘He seems to have disappeared for about three years after the war,’ he said. ‘Then the City started to hear about him from all over the world. The Metal Market heard about him first. Seems he’d cornered a very valuable ore called Columbite. Everybody was wanting the stuff. It’s got an extraordinarily high melting point. Jet engines can’t be made without it. There’s very little of it in the world, only a few thousand tons are produced every year, mostly as a by-product of the Nigerian tin mines. Drax must have looked at the Jet Age and somehow put his finger on its main scarcity. He must have got hold of about £10,000 from somewhere because the
M.’s quiet eyes were fixed on Bond. He puffed at his pipe, listening.
‘Of course,’ continued Bond, lost in his story, ‘all this made the City wonder what the hell was going on. The commodity brokers kept on coming across the name of Drax. Whatever they wanted Drax had got it and was holding out for a much higher price than they were prepared to pay. He operated from Tangier – free port, no taxes, no currency restrictions. By 1950 he was a multi-millionaire. Then he came back to England and started spending it. He simply threw it about. Best houses, best cars, best women. Boxes at the Opera, at Goodwood. Prize-winning Jersey herds. Prize-winning carnations. Prize-winning two-year-olds. Two yachts; money for the Walker Cup team; £100,000 for the Flood Disaster Fund; Coronation Ball for Nurses at the Albert Hall – there wasn’t a week when he wasn’t hitting the headlines with some splash or other. And all the time he went on getting richer and the people simply loved it. It was the Arabian Nights. It lit up their lives. If a wounded soldier from Liverpool could get there in five years, why shouldn’t they or their sons? It sounded almost as easy as winning a gigantic football pool.
‘And then came his astonishing letter to the Queen: “Your Majesty, may I have the temerity … ” and the typical genius of the single banner-line across the
‘And then there were months of delay and everyone got impatient. Questions in the House. The Opposition nearly forced a vote of Confidence. And then the announcement by the Prime Minister that the design had been approved by the Woomera Range experts of the Ministry of Supply, and that the Queen had been graciously pleased to accept the gift on behalf of the people of Britain and had conferred a knighthood on the donor.’
Bond paused, almost carried away by the story of this extraordinary man.
‘Yes,’ said M. ‘“Peace in Our Time – This Time”. I remember the headline. A year ago. And now the rocket’s nearly ready. “The Moonraker”. And from all I hear it really should do what he says. It’s very odd.’ He relapsed into silence, gazing out of the window.
He turned back and faced Bond across the desk.
‘That’s about it,’ he said slowly. ‘I don’t know much more than you do. A wonderful story. Extraordinary man.’ He paused, reflecting. ‘There’s only one thing … ’ M. tapped the stem of his pipe against his teeth.
‘What’s that, sir?’ asked Bond.
M. seemed to make up his mind. He looked mildly across at Bond.
‘Sir Hugo Drax cheats at cards.’
_______________
1 This refers to Bond’s previous assignments; described in
3 | ‘BELLY STRIPPERS’, ETC.
‘Cheats at cards?’
M. frowned. ‘That’s what I said,’ he commented drily. ‘It doesn’t seem to you odd that a multi-millionaire should cheat at cards?’
