The Game Is Baccarat
Bond looked round, but there was no possibility of being overheard, and the caviar would be waiting for the hot toast from the kitchens.
‘Tell me.’ His eyes glittered with interest.
‘They got the third Bulgar, on the road to Paris. He was in a Citroën and he had picked up two English hikers as protective colouring. At the road-block his French was so bad that they asked for his papers and he brought out a g*n and shot one of the motor-cycle patrol. But the other man got him, I don’t know how, and managed to stop him committing suicide. Then they took him down to Rouen and extracted the story — in the usual French fashion, I suppose.
‘Apparently they were part of a pool held in France for this sort of job — saboteurs, thugs, and so on — and Mathis’s friends are alre
