“Once and for all, I do not believe it!” Streuss declared. “At mid-day, I can swear to it that the contents of that envelope were unknown to the Ministers of the King here. Now if Von Behrling had parted with that document last Monday night, don’t you suppose that everything would be known by now? He did not part with it. Bellamy and Mademoiselle lie when they say that they possess it. That document remains in the possession of Von Behrling’s murderer, and it is for us to find him.”
Kahn sighed.
“It is outside our sphere—that. What can we do against the police of this country working in their own land?”
Streuss struck the table before which they were standing. The veins in his temples were like whipcord.
“Adolf,” he muttered, “you talk like a fool! Can’t you see what it means? If that document reaches its destination, what do you suppose will happen?”
“They will know our plans, of course,” Kahn answered. “They will have time to make preparation.”
Streuss laughed bitterly.
“Worse than that!” he exclaimed. “They are not all fools, these English statesmen, though one would think so to read their speeches. Can’t you see what the result would be if that document reaches Downing Street? War at a moment’s notice, war six months too soon! Don’t you know that every shipbuilding yard in Germany is working night and day? Don’t you know that every nerve is being strained, that the muscles of the country are hammering the rivets into our new battleships? There is but one chance for this country, and if her statesmen read that document they will know what it is. It is open to them to destroy the German navy utterly, to render themselves secure against attack.”
“They would never have the courage,” Kahn declared. “They might make a show of defending themselves if they were attacked, but to take the initiative—no! I do not believe it.”
“There is one man who has wit enough to do it,” Streuss said. “He may not be in the Cabinet, but he commands it. Kahn, wake up, man! You and I together have never known what failure means. I tell you that that document is still to be bought or fought for, and we must find it. This morning Mademoiselle drove into the city and called at the offices of a stockbroker within a dozen yards of Crooked Friars’ Alley. She was there a long time. The stockbroker himself came out with her into the street, took her to see the entry, stood with her there and returned. What was her interest in him, Kahn? His name is Laverick. Four days ago he was on the brink of ruin. To the amazement of every one, he met all his engagements. Why did Mademoiselle go to the city to see him? He was at his office late that Tuesday night. He had a partner who has disappeared.”