CHAPTER XII
The Code-book
Mr. William Porter—otherwise Ludwig Schoeffer, had taken readily to his new surroundings on board the S.S. West Barbican. He made it a habit to do so, wherever he was: at the Wilhelmstrasse, Berlin, or in Sing Sing Prison, New York. He made a speciality of studying men and things, and, in order to do so, he naturally came to close quarters with the objects of his professional attention.
He had failed to prevent the shipment of the Brocklington Company's consignment of steelwork for the Kilba Protectorate. There remained a chance of achieving his object while the steelwork was on the high seas; and to that end he had booked a passage in the West Barbican.
His primary idea was to sink the ship without loss of life. It might have been a new-born hesitation to take human life that actuated his plans. During the war he had not been so scrupulous. Now, perchance, he looked upon murder and manslaughter in a different light. Or perhaps he was developing nerves and was afraid of falling into the clutches of the law, for he knew full well that, if he bungled, his employers in Germany would utterly repudiate him.
It might have been possible for him to place a delayed-action infernal machine in the hold of the West Barbican when she was loading up at Brocklington. But he had not an intimate knowledge of the construction of the ship, and he feared to take drastic steps without being certain of his surroundings. Nor did he wish to immolate dozens of passengers.
The majority of the latter would be leaving the ship either at Cape Town or Durban, so their departure would ease the situation as far as the remnants of his conscience were concerned.
He decided, therefore, to go as far as South Africa as a passenger on the West Barbican. During the voyage he could obtain a good knowledge of the ship's routine, and the accessibility or otherwise of the holds and bunkers. Then, before leaving the ship at Durban, he could "plant" his high-explosive bomb and send the West Barbican to her doom.
It was an easy matter to convey the explosives on board. The customs officers at British ports are vigilant enough in connection with homeward-bound passengers' baggage, but not so in the case of departing ships. No one paid any attention to the dark-red, cloth-bound book that Mr. Porter carried under his arm. It never occurred to Ludwig Schoeffer that it was hardly fair to a book to be carried so openly on a damp, foggy day.