CHAPTER II
The Eavesdropper
Ludwig Schoeffer, London agent for the Pfieldorf Company of Chemnitz, was feeling at the very top of his form. He was carrying out his instructions in a manner that bid fair to be highly satisfactory both to his employers and himself, and unless untoward events disturbed the even tenor of his investigations he stood to win the sum of two hundred pounds before the day was out.
The Pfieldorf Company were both surprised and angry when the news came that their tender for work for the Kilba Protectorate had been "turned down". Their Teutonic mentality could not account for the fact that a tender considerably higher than theirs had been accepted. The war was over: why, then, should a good, old German firm be slighted and practically debarred from securing a contract that would advance the commercial prestige of the Fatherland?
At an extraordinary meeting of the directors Herr Bohme, chairman of the company, proposed a somewhat startling scheme. He suggested that the steelwork should be put in hand immediately, according to the specification of the Kilba Protectorate Government. In any case, the bridge, being of a useful design, would find a ready purchaser in one of the South American republics, or perhaps in certain parts of Africa where there was no British prejudice against German goods. The mere fact that they were picking another man's brains by copying the Protectorate's civil engineer's designs hardly entered into Herr Bohme's calculations.
"And now I come to an important proposition," continued the chairman. "It is for us to do our best to prevent this British Brocklington Ironworks Company from carrying out their contract. Somehow—how, I do not know yet—somehow that firm must be compelled to fail in their undertaking. At the critical juncture the Kilba Protectorate will be without their most important bridge, and we can well imagine the effect that will have upon the country. That is where we step in. We can offer a similar structure, complete, and in every way conformable to specification, for the sum of twenty million marks, which is ten thousand pounds more than our original tender, free on board at Hamburg. To save the situation the Protectorate Government will jump at our offer."
"But how can we prevent——?" began one of the directors.
Von Bohme winked ponderously.
"There are ways and means, von Kessler," he interrupted. "These English fondly imagine that, now the war is over, there is no need for our admirable secret service. As you know, that organization still exists most healthily; only, instead of being the Imperial, it is now the German Commercial Secret Service."
Herr von Bohme had occasion to be vindictive towards everyone and everything British. A violent Junker, he had supported the ex-Kaiser's war policy with all his might and main, never doubting, until it was too late, of the rapid and triumphant success of the German arms. At the Armistice he had been compelled to surrender eight of his largest merchant vessels to the Allies. That practically smashed up the shipping business of which Herr Bohme was managing director. There remained the Pfieldorf Company, the activities of which bid fair to more than recoup the directors and shareholders for the loss of their mercantile marine. But von Bohme never forgot. Behind his keen business capabilities lurked the spirit of vindictiveness towards the Power that had taken so large a part in the smashing of the German Empire.