CHAPTER XI MAD GAMBLING AND A BIG BRIBE
Kaleidoscopic Changes in Secret Service Agent's Life—Called to Norwegian Capital for Orders—Enforced Idleness—A War Gambler—Huge Credits—Twisting the Tail of the British Lion—Averting Possible War—Frenzied Finance—A Colossal Bribe—Topheavy Argument—Newspaper Influence—A Good Bargain for England—Millionaire in Three Days.
The life of a Foreign Secret Service agent in wartime is one of kaleidoscopic changes. He never knows where he is likely to be from one day to another, nor the class of company it may be his lot in life to associate with.
One day it may elevate him to be a guest of Royalty, the next may find him in company with the very scum of the earth. Pro Bono Patriæ is his motto. His life and everything he possesses on earth is thrown for the time being into the melting-pot. His sole aim, object, and ambition is to make good. To shoulder successfully and carry through his little bit whereby something may be accomplished, something done, for the furtherance of his country's cause.
All through that hard-fought fight the British played the game. They conducted themselves as gentlemen and they never forgot that they were sportsmen as well. We in the Secret Service prided ourselves that we never knowingly abused the hospitality of the neutral nations whose land we were compelled nolens volens to operate in, we never interfered in any way with their politics or their national affairs. Our work lay with the Hun, the enemy; we strictly confined our attentions to him, and to him alone.
Yet we were constantly being tempted to be drawn into side issues which it was at times really difficult to avoid.
In the early spring of 1915, whilst I was cruising in the Baltic, amidst ice-floes and storms frequent enough to chill the ardour of any patriot, I received an innocent and simple-worded note, the interpretation of which meant I must hasten to Christiania for orders.
On my arrival there I met my old friend N. P., who had been similarly recalled from Sweden, with others who have not figured in these pages. Days passed in listless idleness. No orders arrived. There seemed to be nothing doing. But it was heart-breaking to see the constant stream of the necessities of life—cotton, copper, foodstuffs and metals—going to Germany, which the feeble remonstrances of our Ministers, both at home and abroad, seemed utterly powerless to stop or to diminish.
For some weeks all members of the Foreign Secret Service operating round the Baltic were kept at the Norwegian capital in daily anticipation of something important turning up. The expected, however, never happened, yet we were still kept there, in spite of repeated remonstrances and urgent appeals to be released in order that we might attend to our respective interests in other spheres.
One evening I had been dining with a friend at the Grand Hotel. Whilst I was in the vestibule about 2 a.m., putting on my snow-boots preparatory to the short walk home, a middle-aged man, with hands clenched, face as pale and clammy as a corpse, and teeth set hard, rushed up to me in such an alarming manner that I fondled the butt of a revolver lying in the outside pocket of my overcoat by way of precaution against possible contingencies.
"My God, sir, you are the one man I've been praying to find! I believe I should have committed suicide to-night or by to-morrow morning had it not have been for this chance meeting. I must see you, now, this moment. You must save me. I have millions, yet I am a ruined man. I dare not face it a second time. You must either come to my room, or I must visit yours. I have not slept for nights. It will take hours to explain matters. You must save me. Save me! Yes, only promise me you will save me!"
Thinking I had a madman to deal with, I humoured him. I promised any reasonable assistance that lay in my power, and fixed an appointment for the afternoon of the following day.
The twelve hours intervening made little improvement upon the nerves or excitement of the stranger. It was some time after my arrival before he could articulate a connected story; whilst it took considerable interlocution and some cross-examination before I could draw forth the main facts of his case.
Shortly, it was as follows:
He was a merchant from the West Coast. He had gambled in fish oil some years previously and lost his all. Financial difficulties had since embarrassed him. When the country was thrown into panic by the declaration of war he had seen his opportunity and plunged once again into an enormous speculation. By promising large sums of money for direct financial assistance, and by offering brokerage remuneration far in excess of what was either necessary or reasonable, he had become enabled to buy on credit practically every barrel of fish oil held in the country. It was a special kind of oil which could not be replaced until next season's harvest was gathered in. He was therefore in a position to control the market and to regulate prices, provided he could only finance the deal uninterruptedly and his movements were not hampered by new laws—particularly prohibition of export.
Terribly anxious on both these points, he had approached the British Minister and pressed upon him the acceptance of his whole purchase at a price more than double its initial cost. In addition he had hinted rather too strongly that Germany was a certain buyer should the English Government not care to accept his preferential offer.
It amounted in fact to a threat: "If you don't buy this oil at once, the whole lot goes off to your enemies."
The Minister had promised his answer in five days. But when the merchant's financier heard what he had done, that gentleman was so irate he had threatened to cancel his credit, because, as he argued, he had tried to threaten England; which meant that the oil in question would promptly be made contraband, whilst the English Government would call upon the Norwegian Government to cause its export to be prohibited. There was admittedly no sale for such large quantities as he had bought in the home markets, hence he became quite convinced that he was a ruined man, although, according to market prices, he was a millionaire.
When recounting his folly in thus putting his head into the lion's mouth, to which he metaphorically likened his visit to the Ministry, the poor unnerved merchant worked himself up into a tremendous pitch of excitement. He perspired so freely that all the starch was exuded from his linen. He drank bottle after bottle of lager beer in a vain endeavour to keep his lips moist, whilst his eyes at times assumed an unnatural appearance, rolling round in their sockets in a manner alarming to behold.
I knew simply nothing of the subject put so vehemently before me, but the idea of any goods of any value being permitted to go into Germany was so distasteful to me that I listened with the greatest patience and until my visitor could say no more. Then I inquired where and how I could be expected to be of assistance.
"Why, you're a newspaper man. You represent the best and most influential periodical in London, the greatest city of the world. I know what tremendous power and influence the English papers hold. Your Minister would certainly listen to what you said, if you would only interview him on my behalf; if you would only intercede against any prohibition being put on my oil."
"Why should I interfere?" I said. "As an Englishman, I certainly object to your selling any goods to Germany. If I thought you intended sending a single barrel there I should do all I could to get the prohibition put on it, not to help you to keep it off."
"But that would bring Norway into the war."
"I don't agree," I snapped.
"Yes, it would. A prohibition on oil or fish would mean the throwing out of employment of many thousands upon thousands of Norwegian fishermen and workmen. They would revolt and march on the Storthings-Bygning" (House of Parliament) "and compel its members to take the prohibition off in spite of the British Government. Your Minister might say that England had been slighted, which would lead to war. One of our own Ministers himself told me this only yesterday, so I know I'm right in what I'm talking about."
In vain I poo-poohed the idea; the perspiring merchant was insistent.
Having delivered himself of these troubles, he walked up and down the confines of the room in a frenzy of nervous excitement. Banging his fists one into the other, alternately running his fingers through his hair, which was absolutely wringing wet from perspiration, he, literally speaking, groaned out his mental agony.
I watched him in silence. Suddenly he steadied himself somewhat, then stopped short, and, looking me straight in the face, he exclaimed: "I feel, I know, I am positively certain sure you can save this situation if you will. I am paying the man who is putting up my money 40,000 kroner as a private honorarium over and above the usual interest of five per cent. It's worth it. But neither he nor I shall see a cent in return if it's to be prohibition. Now, I'll make a square deal with you. I'll give you 100,000 kroner" (about £5,500) "if you'll interview your Minister for me and you can successfully guarantee me no prohibition for six or even three months. If you can only stop it for three months, then I shall be safe, and I shall have more than enough to pay my late creditors and everybody else everything I owe, and to spare." At this point he positively gasped for breath and more beer, whilst he re-mopped his streaming neck and face.
During this scene my thoughts had not been idle. They had conceived, turned over, and evolved a scheme which I believed would work out to the advantage of all concerned, excepting only the Germans.
I would promise him the assistance he desired; to intercede and do my best to pacify the British Minister's wrath, which I was given to understand was burning at white heat against the unfortunate merchant for his presumption and impudence in daring to suggest a twist of the lion's tail for so large an amount as the £100,000 profit he had suggested. It was well known that the Legation had given out, and wished it to be understood, that England would not look favourably upon any business relationships whatsoever, directly or indirectly, with Germany. Furthermore, that such a flouting of England's goodwill would not be to the future advantage of any such transgressors. Some merchants made a joke of this, others expressed their feelings in withering scorn, a few took notice. The idea that their trade should be allowed to continue with England whilst its continuance with Germany was to be looked upon as an unpardonable offence seemed a top-heavy argument. They did not view the proposition through similarly tinted glasses. And as soon as the Minister began to voice his objections, so soon did trouble begin.
The position of the merchant from the West Coast, however, was hardly on all fours with other traders in the country. He was particularly anxious to keep in the good graces of the British Minister. At the same time, the earning of money seemed dearer to him than most other worldly considerations.
I knew he held an appointment which he was desirous to retain—an appointment which the British Minister could influence considerably. He, the British Minister, could easily keep him in it or he could scorch him out of it, whichever he desired. I also knew that the British Minister, generally speaking, was not too popular; whilst it was said that he was a man who would never understand the Norwegian race any more than it would ever understand him. I could read what had passed in the minds of both of these individuals of such opposite temperaments at that memorable interview. I could imagine the grim, determined, waiting watchfulness with which the one man weighed up the weaknesses, the failings, and the awful nerve-racking sensations of realised blunders, abandoned hopes and fears, and despair probably revealed on the face of the other.
It was all as plain to me as though the drama had been re-enacted in my presence. I felt a contempt I did not express at the sordid details of such vast credits being bought and risks run with other people's money, at bribery prices over and above the usual business rates; at the exorbitant brokerages which were being exacted from this rash and hazardous speculator; and more particularly at the heavy sum which was pressed upon me for a service that the eager donor had seemingly never seriously weighed or considered with an evenly-balanced mind. Thus I delivered myself:
"My good sir, you seem to have put your foot into it very badly indeed. It looks as though you, and all those involved with you, will crash through the very thin ice you are skating upon. It looks to me an odds-on chance that you will all be drowned in the financial vortex beneath. I don't for the life of me see how a poor insignificant journalist like myself can be of any real service to you. So you need not worry about your 100,000 kroner or any other sum. What fragment of weight do you suppose that so great a personage as our Minister would attach to either my words or to my presence—to me, a stranger and an ordinary civilian?"
In a tense, hoarse voice he replied: "You forget you are English, an English journalist, representing the most powerful newspaper in London. Everyone is afraid of newspapers. They can uproot a throne. I know. I have lived in London. I have seen what a newspaper can do. You are cool. Your nerves are strong. You are a man of the world. You can state my case as it would be impossible for me to state it myself. Let the English Government buy my oil at its own price. I don't want an exorbitant profit. I will leave the negotiation to your absolute discretion. Prohibition would ruin me. You can save me if you will only try. I will willingly pay you any sum you like to name. If you stave off the threatened prohibition you will earn it ten times over. You may even save our country from war. I have not slept for nights. I cannot eat properly. Unless this strain on me is relieved I feel my brain will give way and I shall go mad, or I shall kill myself."
He sat down heavily upon a chair, and, burying his head in his hands, wept aloud.
Allowing a reasonable time for the unhappy merchant to settle down to a more even frame of mind, I placed my hand upon his shoulder, not unkindly, and said in a soft voice: "Well, I'm afraid I shall not carry much weight, and I don't want your money, but I will go and see him. One thing is quite certain. You can rest assured that England would never knowingly permit an injustice to be done; but if you're trading with the Germans, then of course you'll have to paddle your own canoe."
Further inquiries from the now subservient speculator elicited the existence of a contract made with German merchants by which a by-product of the oil passing through his hands in the ordinary course of business, amounting to about five per cent. of the whole, had to be delivered to them periodically for some few months to follow.
In due course I carried out the promise I had made, and as a result I conveyed certain proposals to the merchant, whereby that gentleman gave a written undertaking that not a barrel of his oil should be sold to Germany, directly or indirectly, excepting the by-product before referred to, which was considered a bagatelle, he receiving assurances that so long as his undertaking was faithfully carried out no steps would be taken without fair and reasonable notice to press for a prohibition of the particular oil in question.
To say that the gentleman most interested in this matter was effusive in his expressions of overwhelming gratitude would be a gross exaggeration of mild description. If permitted he would have fallen on my neck and almost drowned me in a flood of tears of relief and joy. He produced a pocket-book bulging with paper money and attempted to force a handful of notes for large amounts upon me, which I firmly and emphatically refused to accept. But I did agree to lunch with him, and the late dejected one ate what he described as his first decent meal for a prolonged period.
During the following week we occasionally met. The merchant was now all smiles and enjoying life consequent upon a successful venture and an undisturbed peace of mind. Prices continued to rise in his favour, and ten days later he declared himself a millionaire in Norwegian kroner. He vainly continued to press me every time we were alone to accept something substantial for the service rendered, whilst he was extravagant in his sentiments of eternal gratitude. He also proposed that I should abandon my journalistic career and accept a position as one of the foreign representatives of his firm, which offer I likewise politely declined. Then he hinted at the bestowal of a high Norwegian decoration, which made me smile still more.
Whether the unlimited ambitions of this wild speculator followed usual precedent and tumbled from the height of success to the abysmal depth of failure by reason of too oft-repeated temptations of Providence; whether, and if so, how the assurances given and the guarantee obtained were carried out, the ultimate turn of events, and how all these things developed, progressed and fructified, remain, as Rudyard Kipling says, another story.