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lit from a central chandelier and by candles on a round table that glittered
with silver and glass. They sat down opposite each other. Two yellow-faced
servants in white mess-
jackets brought dishes from a loaded serving-table. The first course was some
curried mess with rice. Goldfinger noticed
Bond's hesitation. He gave a dry chuckle. 'It's all right, Mr Bond. Shrimp,
not the cat.'
'Ah.' Bond's expression was non-committal.
'Please try the Moselle. I hope it will be to your taste. It is a Piesporter
Goldtropfchen '53. Help yourself. These people are as likely to pour it into
your plate as your glass.'
There was a slim bottle in an ice bucket in front of Bond. He poured some of
the wine and tasted it. It was nectar and ice cold. Bond congratulated his
host. Goldfinger gave a curt nod.
'I don't myself drink or smoke, Mr Bond. Smoking, I find the most ridiculous
of all the varieties of human behaviour and practically the only one that is
entirely against nature. Can you imagine a cow or any animal taking a mouthful
of smouldering straw then breathing in the smoke and blowing it out through
its nostrils? Pah!' Goldfinger showed a rare trace of emotion. 'It is a/vile
practice. As for drinking, I am something of a chemist and I have yet to find
a liquor that is free from traces of a number
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of poisons, some of them deadly, such as fusel oil, acetic acid, ethylacetate,
acetal-dehyde and furfurol. A quantity of some of these poisons taken neat
would kill you. In the small amounts you find in a bottle of liquor they
produce various ill effects most of which are lightly written off as "a
hangover".' Goldfinger paused with a forkful of curried shrimp half way to his
mouth. 'Since you are a drinker, Mr Bond, I will give you one word of good
advice. Never drink so-called Napoleon brandy, particularly when it is
described as "aged in the wood". That particular potion contains more of the
poisons I have mentioned than any other liquor I have analysed. Old bourbon
comes next.' Goldfinger closed his animadversions with a mouthful of shrimp.
'Thank you. I'll remember. Perhaps for those reasons I have recently taken to
vodka. They tell me its filtration through activated charcoal is a help.'
Bond, dredging this piece of expertise out of dim recollections of something
he had read, was rather proud of having been able to return Goldfinger's
powerful serve.
Goldfinger glanced at him sharply. 'You seem to understand something of these
matters. Have you studied chemistry?'
'Only dabbled in it.' It was time to move on. 'I was very impressed by that
chauffeur of yours. Where did he learn that fantastic combat stuff? Where did
it come from? Is that what the Koreans use?'
Goldfinger patted his mouth with his napkin. He snapped his fingers. The two
men cleared away the plates and brought roast duckling and a bottle of Mouton
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Rothschild 1947 for Bond. When they had withdrawn into immobility at each end
of the serving-table, Goldfinger said, 'Have you ever heard of Karate? No?
Well that man is one of the three in the world who have achieved the Black
Belt in Karate. Karate is a branch of judo, but it is to judo what a Spandau
is to a catapult.'
'I could see that.'
'The demonstration was an elementary one. Mr Bond' -Goldfinger held up the
drumstick he had been gnawing - 'I can tell you that if Oddjob had used the
appropriate single blow on any one of seven spots on your body, you would,now
be dead.'
Goldfinger bit at the side of the drumstick with relish.
Bond said seriously, 'That's interesting. I only know five ways of killing
Oddjob with one blow.'
Goldfinger seemed not to hear the comment. He put down his drumstick and took
a deep draught of water. He sat back and spoke while Bond went on eating the
excellent food. 'Karate, Mr Bond, is based on the theory that the human body
possesses five striking surfaces and thirty-seven vulnerable spots -
vulnerable, that is, to an expert in Karate whose finger-tips, the side of the
hands and the feet are hardened into layers of corn, which is far stronger and
more flexible than bone. Every day of his life, Mr Bond, Oddjob spends one
hour hitting either sacks of unpolished rice or a strong post whose top is
wound many times round with thick rope. He then spends another hour at
physical training which is more that of a ballet school than of a gymnasium.'
'When does he practise tossing the bowler hat?' Bond had no intention of
succumbing to this psychological warfare.
Goldfinger frowned at the interruption. 'I have never inquired,' he said
without humour. 'But I think you can take it that
Oddjob keep his eye in at all his skills. However, you were asking where
Karate originated. It originated in China where wandering Buddhist priests
became an easy prey for footpads and bandits. Their religion did not allow
them to carry weapons, so they developed their own form of unarmed combat. The
inhabitants of Okinawa refined the art to its present form when the
Japanese forbade them to carry weapons. They developed the five striking
surfaces of the human body - the fist, the edge of the hand, the fingertips,
the ball of the foot and the elbows - and toughened them until they were
enveloped in layers of corn.
There is no follow-through in a Karate blow. The entire body is stiffened at
the moment of impact, with the emphasis on the hips, and then instantly
relaxed so that balance is never lost. It is astonishing what Oddjob can do. I
have seen him hit a brick wall with his entire force and not hurt his hand. He
can split three half-inch thick boards, piled one upon the other, with one
blow of the hand. You have seen what he can do with his foot.'
Bond took a deep draught of the delicious claret. 'All this must be rather
hard on your furniture.'
Goldfinger shrugged. 'I have no more use for this house. I thought a
demonstration would amuse you. I hope you agree that
Oddjob earned his cat.' The X-ray eyes blazed briefly across the table.
'Does he train on cats?'
'He regards them as a great delicacy. He acquired the taste during a famine in
his country when he was young.'
Bond thought it was time to delve rather more deeply. 'Why do you need such a
man? He can't be very good company.'
'Mr Bond' - Goldfinger snapped his fingers for the two servants - 'it happens
that I am a rich man, a very rich man, and the richer the man the more he
needs protection. The ordinary bodyguard or detective is usually a retired
policeman. Such men are valueless. Their reactions are slow, their methods
old-fashioned, and they are open to bribery. Moreover, they have a respect for
human life. That is no good if I wish to stay alive. The Koreans have no such
feelings. That is why the Japanese employed them as guards for their prison
camps during the war. They are the cruellest, most ruthless people in the
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world. My own staff are hand picked for these qualities. They have served me
well. I have no complaints. Nor have they. They are well paid and well fed and
housed. When they want w omen, street women are brought down from London, well
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