"For the very good reason that they came only into existence since the war. Now, read this and commit the salient facts to memory."
Von Bohme handed his caller a dossier containing the papers dealing with the Kilba Protectorate contract. There were eleven pages of closely lined typescript with marginal notes in von Bohme's own handwriting.
"You've grasped the important points? Good! Now, this is your task. Go to Brocklington, find out and report to me on the progress of the work. When necessary, shadow the directors of the Company in London. Their offices are in Chilbolton Row, off St. Mary Axe. Use every means at your disposal to hinder the work, since at all costs that steelwork must not arrive at Kilba. You understand?"
Thirty-six hours later Ludwig Schoeffer arrived at Brocklington. In the guise of a mechanic he presented himself at the works foreman's office, having previously taken the precaution of registering under the name of James Sylvester at the local Labour Exchange.
Already the contract was well in hand. Additional workmen were being taken on, and the mere fact that Jim Sylvester was a skilled riveter recommended by the local Exchange enabled the secret service agent to obtain employment forthwith.
That was all very well as far as it went, but the fact that he was actually at the works afforded Ludwig very few opportunities of getting in touch with the brains of the concern. So, after two futile attempts to hinder the work, Jim Sylvester obtained his discharge and disappeared from the neighbourhood.
By this time the spy had got to know the managing director and most of the principals by sight. His next step was to try to probe the secrets of the head office in Chilbolton Row.
Judicious inquiries resulted in the information that the Brocklington Ironworks Company's city premises were the ground floor of a large, somewhat dingy building. The second and third floors were occupied by shipping agents; the first floor was at present unoccupied.
Three days later Ludwig Schoeffer was in possession of the hitherto vacant rooms immediately over the Brocklington Ironworks Company's offices, but not as Ludwig Schoeffer. A card affixed to the door announced to anyone who had occasion to visit the upstairs offices that Mr. Josiah Sherringham, London agent for Messrs. Hoogenveen, bulb growers, of Haarlem, would be in attendance daily from ten to four. Since Messrs Hoogenveen, had no material existence, it was extremely unlikely that clients would call upon Mr. Josiah Sherringham. Nor did the tenant of the first floor want any. Usually the door was locked, generally from the outside, and inside whenever the directors of the Brocklington Ironworks Company held converse in the room below.
Amongst Mr. Josiah Sherringham's office furniture was a dictaphone, the mouthpiece of which was extended by means of a length of india-rubber tube and rested above a hole in the ceiling of the room below. Some years previously the premises had been renovated and electric light installed in place of gas, but the huge ornamental rose from which a chandelier once depended formed a convenient camouflage for the eavesdropper's operations.