Bond 01 - Casino Royale by Ian Fleming Read Free Book Online

with his right hand, gives one of the four spokes of the wheel a controlled twist clockwise with the same hand, and with a third motion, also with the right hand, flicks the ball round the outer rim of the wheel anti-clockwise, against the spin.
    It was obvious that all this ritual and all the mechanical minutiae of the wheel, of the numbered slots and the cylinder, had been devised and perfected over the years so that neither the skill of the croupier nor any bias in the wheel could affect the fall of the ball. And yet it is a convention among roulette players, and Bond rigidly adhered to it, to take careful note of the past history of each session and to be guided by any peculiarities in the run of the wheel. To note, for instance, and consider significant, sequences of more than two on a single number or of more than four at the other chances down to evens.
    Bond didn’t defend the practice. He simply maintained that the more effort and ingenuity you put into gambling, the more you took out.
    On the record of that particular table, after about three hours’ play, Bond could see little of interest except that the last dozen had been out of favour. It was his practice to play always with the wheel, and only to turn against its previous pattern and start on a new tack after a zero had turned up. So he decided to play one of his favourite gambits and back two – in this case the first two – dozens, each with the maximum – one hundred thousand francs. He thus had two-thirds of the board covered (less the zero) and, since the dozens pay odds of two to one, he stood to win a hundred thousand francs every time any number lower than 25 turned up.
    After seven coups he had won six times. He lost on the seventh when thirty came up. His net profit was half a million francs. He kept off the table for the eighth throw. Zero turned up. This piece of luck cheered him further and, accepting the thirty as a finger-post to the last dozen, he decided to back the first and last dozens until he had lost twice. Ten throws later the middle dozen came up twice, costing him four hundred thousand francs, but he rose from the table eleven hundred thousand francs to the good.
    Directly Bond had started playing in maximums, his game had become the centre of interest at the table. As he seemed to be in luck, one or two pilot fish started to swim with the shark. Sitting directly opposite, one of these, whom Bond took to be an American, had shown more than the usual friendliness and pleasure at his share of the winning streak. He had smiled once or twice across the table, and there was something pointed in the way he duplicated Bond’s movements, placing his two modest plaques of ten mille exactly opposite Bond’s larger ones. When Bond rose, he too pushed back his chair and called cheerfully across the table:
    ‘Thanks for the ride. Guess I owe you a drink. Will you join me?’
    Bond had a feeling that this might be the C.I.A. man. He knew he was right as they strolled off together towards the bar, after Bond had thrown a plaque of ten mille to the croupier and had given a mille to the ‘huissier’ who drew back his chair.
    ‘My name’s Felix Leiter,’ said the American. ‘Glad to meet you.’
    ‘Mine’s Bond – James Bond.’
    ‘Oh yes,’ said his companion, ‘and now let’s see. What shall we have to celebrate?’
    Bond insisted on ordering Leiter’s Haig-and-Haig ‘on the rocks’ and then he looked carefully at the barman.
    ‘A dry martini,’ he said. ‘One. In a deep champagne goblet.’
    ‘Oui, monsieur.’
    ‘Just a moment. Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it’s ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon-peel. Got it?’
    ‘Certainly, monsieur.’ The barman seemed pleased with the idea.
    ‘Gosh, that’s certainly a drink,’ said Leiter.
    Bond laughed. ‘When I’m … er … concentrating,’ he explained, ‘I never have more than one drink