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Bond,' Colonel Smithers leaned forward earnestly, ' - and please don't quote me - but I
wouldn't be surprised if in fifty years' time we have not totally exhausted the gold
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content of the earth!'
Bond, smothered by this cataract of gold history, found no difficulty in looking as
grave as Colonel Smithers. He said, 'You certainly make a fascinating story of it.
Perhaps the position isn't as bad as you think. They're already mining oil under the sea.
Perhaps they'll find a way of mining gold. Now, about this smuggling.'
The telephone rang. Colonel Smithers impatiently snatched up the receiver. 'Smithers
speaking.' He listened, irritation growing on his face. 'I'm sure I sent you a note about
the summer fixtures, Miss Philby. The next match is on Saturday against the Discount
Houses.' He listened again. "Well, if Mrs Flake won't play goals, I'm afraid she'll have to
stand down. It's the only position on the field we've got for her. Everybody can't play
centre forward. Yes, please do. Say I'll be greatly obliged if just this once. I'm sure she'll
be very good - right figure and all that. Thank you, Miss Philby.'
Colonel Smithers took out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead. 'Sorry about that.
Sports and welfare are becoming almost too much of a fetish at the Bank. I've just had
the women's hockey team thrown into my lap. As if I hadn't got enough to do with the
annual gymkhana coming on. How ever' - Colonel Smithers waved these minor
irritations aside - 'as you say, time to get on to the smuggling. Well, to begin with, and
taking only England and the sterling area, it's a very big business indeed. We employ
three thousand staff at the Bank, Mr Bond, and of those no less than one thousand
work in the exchange control department. Of those at least five hundred, including my
little outfit, are engaged in controlling the illicit movements of valuta, the attempts to
smuggle or to evade the Exchange Control Regulations.'
'That's a lot.' Bond measured it against the Secret Service which had a total force of
two thousand. 'Can you give me an example of smuggling? In gold. I can't understand
these dollar swindles.'
'All right.' Colonel Smithers now talked in the soft, tired voice of an overworked man in
the service of his Government. It was the voice of the specialist in a particular line of
law enforcement. It said that he knew most things connected with that line and that he
could make a good guess at all the rest. Bond knew the voice well, the voice of the first-
class Civil Servant. Despite his prosiness, Bond was beginning to take to Colonel
Smithers. 'All right. Supposing you have a bar of gold in your pocket about the size of a
couple of packets of Players. Weight about five and a quarter pounds. Never mind for
the moment where you got it from - stole it or inherited it or something. That'll be
twenty-four carat -what we call a thousand fine. Now, the law says you have to sell that
to the Bank of England at the controlled price of twelve pounds ten per ounce. That
would make it worth around the thousand pounds. But you're greedy. You've got a
friend going to India or perhaps you're on good terms with an airline pilot or a steward
on the Far East run. All you have to do is cut your bar into thin sheets or plates you'd
soon find someone to do this for you - and sew the plates -they'd be smaller than
playing cards - into a cotton belt, and pay your friend a commission to wear it. You
could easily afford a hundred pounds for the job. Your friend flies off to Bombay and
goes to the first bullion dealer in the bazaar. He will be given one thousand seven
hundred pounds for your five-pound bar and you're a richer man than you might have
been. Mark you,' Colonel Smithers waved his pipe airily,'that's only seventy per cent
profit. Just after the war you could have got three hundred per cent. If you'd done only
half a dozen little operations like that every year you'd be able to retire by now.'
'Why the high price in India?' Bond didn't really want to know. He thought M might ask
him.
'It's a long story. Briefly, India is shorter of gold, particularly for her jewellery trade,
than any other country.'
'What's the size of this traffic?'
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'Huge. To give an idea, the Indian Intelligence Bureau and their Customs captured
forty-three thousand ounces in 1955.1 doubt if that's one per cent of the traffic. Gold's
been coming into India from all points of the compass. Latest dodge is to fly it in from
Macao and drop it by parachute to a reception committee - a ton at a time - like we
used to drop supplies to the Resistance during the war.'
'I see. Is there anywhere else I can get a good premium for my gold bar?'
'You could get a small premium in most countries -Switzerland, for instance but it
wouldn't be worth your while. India's still the place.'
'All right,' said Bond. 1 think I've got the picture. Now what's your particular problem?'
He sat back and lit a cigarette. He was greatly looking forward to hearing about Mr
Auric Goldfinger.
Colonel Smithers's eyes took on their hard, foxy look. He said, 'There's a man who
came over to England in 1937. He was a refugee from Riga. Name of Auric Goldfinger.
He was only twenty when he arrived, but he must have been a bright lad because he
smelled that the Russians would be swallowing his country pretty soon. He was a
jeweller and goldsmith by trade, like his father and grandfather who had refined gold for
Faberge. He had a little money and probably one of those belts of gold I was telling you
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