In consequence an introduction was next day effected between the two wireless engineers, who sat together in the big wireless station at Lyngby, outside Copenhagen, the note of which with its call-signal, “O.X.A.,” is well-known to every wireless man. There they thoroughly discussed the whole matter.
“We experience no interference,” said the Danish engineer. “But we use the six-hundred mètre wave in transmission, while you say ‘M.S.K.’ is under five thousand mètres. Anyhow it is highly interesting, and we will certainly investigate it.”
Together they strolled around the big busy square at noon, but their expert eyes could detect no sign of aerial wires. If a wireless station existed in that vicinity it was certainly extremely well disguised.
Yet upon them both the little old man, who occupied the bedroom next to Geoffrey’s, kept active vigilance, though that morning he was followed by a detective. It was apparent that by some means or other the Bolsheviks knew of Falconer’s journey and its object. That he was being watched was proof in itself that the station, though well concealed, certainly existed somewhere or other in the city.
At the suggestion of Marius Lund, both radio-engineers remained inactive during the following three days, for the first point towards success would be, he said, to get rid of the silent watcher, without allowing him to suspect that he in turn was being watched.
So the police called one morning at the hotel, and finding a fault with the old man’s passport, ordered him to return to Hamburg, whence he had come. This he did with ill-suppressed chagrin.
Hence the investigators were free to watch. One evening while Geoffrey could plainly read upon his own set in his bedroom at the Angleterre the messages sent out by “M.S.K.,” yet at the radio station, a couple of miles away, they could not be heard by the operator on duty, merely because of the difference of the wave-lengths employed.
That night Geoffrey Falconer and his Danish friend sat outside the Bristol Café in the great square, for the night was quite warm and bright. As they gazed around at the brilliantly lit Place, the busy centre of Denmark’s capital, they were more than ever mystified.
Only on the previous day Geoffrey had received from the engineer-in-charge of the direction-finding station at Lowestoft a report of a further test, and the bearings had not altered in the slightest. That secret wireless station, which was endeavouring to do so much harm to British interests and Britain’s prestige abroad, was somewhere near them—but where?
His companion confessed himself utterly perplexed as just before midnight they strolled homeward.