Rizzio shrugged.
“Excellenz well knows,” he said, “why those men were sent. They had instructions to get the papers for Maxwell.”
“That is strange,” said Hammersley. “If Maxwell had asked me personally for the papers, I should have given them to him. Maxwell would have known better than to intrust those papers to a third person. It is not likely that I should have given them up to any man, even if Maxwell had sent him.”
“It is unfortunate that Herr Maxwell is not here to——”
“One moment, Herr Rizzio,” broke in the General. Then to Hammersley, “What was the nature of the letter which you say was sent by Herr Rizzio to a high official of the War Office?”
“It was a statement in regard to the case of Carl Hüber, who, as you know, was shot last week in the Tower of London.”
“Ach!” Von Stromberg frowned. “We are killing our evidence too fast, mein herr, a little too fast for convenience. Bitte, we will kill no more German agents in the Tower until they have had an opportunity to testify.”
Hammersley smiled.
“Unfortunately, Excellenz, I have no means of restoring him to life,” he said. “He was an excellent man, and leaves, I believe, a wife and six children.”
Von Stromberg tapped his fingers slowly.