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Hambledon’s grim face relaxed a little, but he merely said “Go on” again.

“Though I must admit, sir, that all our efforts to decipher the code he uses have so far

failed completely.”

“I am glad I still retain a few secrets from my domestic staff,” said Hambledon.

“Yes, sir, certainly. On the other hand, there are a few things I could perhaps tell you, if

you would permit me. For example, is Your Excellency aware that you are followed wherever

you go by the orders of Herr Goebbels?”

“I am not altogether surprised.”

“There are two men outside the house now, sir, waiting in case you should go out again

this evening.”

“Do you know how long this has been going on?”

“I could not say precisely, sir, but it was shortly before you went to see that forger to get

the label for Herr Ogilvie’s portable gramophone.”

“So you know that too,” said Hambledon.

“Yes, sir. The man is one of our most useful, if not one of our most respected, members.

Yes,” said Franz thoughtfully, “it was just before that, about the time when Herr Reck took up

photography.”

“You know, Franz, I’m awfully sorry, but I’m afraid I shall have to have you painlessly

destroyed—as painlessly as possible. You know too much, you must see that.”

“On the contrary, sir, it is precisely because I know so much—not only about you—that I

could be of use to you.”

“What do you mean by ‘not only about me’?”

“To answer that, sir, I must tell you something about the Freedom League. When the

Nazi Party first received any notable measure of public support, some of us who remembered an

earlier Germany were not favourably impressed, and a careful study of
Mein Kampf
confirmed

us in our opinions. For after all, sir, it is all set down there, what he meant to do and how he

meant to do it, the only mystery is why so many people are surprised at what he does. Why did

they not simply believe him? Well, we did, and we regarded the future with such forebodings

that we formed a League to protect what we foresaw would be most endangered, our personal

freedom. That was in 1924, and since then, with the growth of the Nazi Party, the Freedom

League has also grown till now there are thousands upon thousands of us. It is a lowly and

inconspicuous organization, sir, we have no mass meetings and we carry no banners, but we do a

lot of good work-literally,” added Franz with a smile. “The ivy is an inconspicuous plant, sir, but

it has been known to pull down the forest oak.”

“Please go on,” said Hambledon, “I am most interested.”

“We thought you would be, sir. I may say that if you had not brought about this

éclaircissement
, I should shortly have initiated it myself. To return to the Freedom League. We

decided that it was necessary to install ourselves into positions of confidence in the Party without

having to take any share in its iniquities, so as most of us had fairly good manners and knew how

things ought to be done-I was a Captain of Uhlans myself—we readily became butlers, valets

and so forth. We were fortunate in obtaining situations with most of the Party leaders, I came to

you because from the earliest days it was evident that your outstanding capabilities and integrity

of character would carry you far—”

“Stop a minute,” said Hambledon, “you’re making my head ache. Do you mean to say

you have a whole network of-of supervision running through the Nazi Party?”

“Among all the more important members, sir.”

“And that you planted yourself on me on purpose to—er—supervise me?”

“Yes, sir. Of course, until recent years I thought you were as convinced a Nazi as any of

them, but when I discovered you were not, I was only all the more interested.”

“Naturally. Er-sit down, Captain—”

“Thank you,” said Franz, but not supplying his name. “I think perhaps I’d better not,

someone might come in. Thanks all the same, I appreciate that.”

“Tell me, who do you think I am?”

“To tell you the truth, I haven’t the faintest idea and I’ve never been able to find out. It

annoys me—it is a failure on my part,” said the man with a frank smile. “I think, however, that

you love Germany as we do, and loathe the Nazis as we do. We have seen you defending the

cause of simple, honest people against tyranny in power, that is our aim also. We mean to pull

down this foul regime which is making the name of Germany a stench in the nostrils of decent

men of all nations, and we will set up in its place a Government founded on justice, humanity

and peace.”

“If you succeed,” said Hambledon carefully, “you will no doubt receive a large measure

of support from, as you say, decent men everywhere.”

“We shall want a new President,” said Franz, his eyes kindling with the visions his mind

beheld, “a man who can be trusted, whose instincts are sound, whose heart is upright, whose

word is his bond.”

“Such men are scarce, Franz.”

“I think I know of one, sir. I have served him for some time and I should be glad, if he

would rescue Germany, to serve him till I died.”

Franz clicked his heels, bowed to Hambledon, and marched out of the room before his

master could find words to reply.

“Good Lord,” said the horrified Hambledon when he was alone, “that settles it. I must get

out, I couldn’t stand that. President—what a frightful thought. Franz looks quite capable of it—

oh, gosh! No more beautiful blondes, and I should have to live on cabbage. This is where I go

home.”

Though the days passed by without any overt attack upon Hambledon, he was always

aware of being watched and followed, and the thought of his fingerprints, neatly docketed and

filed, waiting in their proper place for Goebbels to ask for them, made him feel sick. The neatest

way to solve the problem would be simply to substitute somebody else’s fingerprints for his own,

but he had not the technical ability to do this, as he told Reck. “I don’t even know how they

photograph the dam’ things,” he said irritably. “They powder them, don’t they? What with?

Besides, how do they file them? Alphabetically, between Brain and Brawn?”

“No,” said Reck, “I don’t think so. I think they’re classified according to pattern, as it

were.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. If I got the wrong sort of loops into that place, the experts

would spot it at once. That is, supposing I could get hold of it, or having got it could fake an

imitation. Besides, there may be two copies under a sort of cross-reference system. I wish I’d

taken an intelligent interest in the business earlier, I daren’t now. I only used them when

necessary and asked not how nor why. I’d like to plant a bomb in the place, but there are

technical difficulties even in such a simple scheme as that. Now Bill would have persuaded

Goebbels that it was in the Nazi interest to have the records destroyed, and Goebbels would have

beamed on him and asked him to attend to it himself.”

“Ask Franz to attend to it,” suggested Reck lazily.

Tommy Hambledon looked at him much as Balaam must have looked at his ass, and

walked thoughtfully away.

The next evening, when Franz came into the study as usual to switch on lights and draw

curtains, Hambledon said: “By the way, I have no desire to meddle in any way with that

organization of yours, but I did hear a piece of news to-day which might interest you.”

“Indeed, sir?”

“Your emissaries scattered quite a large number of leaflets about in most of the larger

towns of Germany some time recently.”

“That is so, sir, and not one of the distributors was caught in the act.”

“No, Franz, but most of ’em left their fingerprints behind.”

“I warned them,” said Franz anxiously, “to be careful about that—having been careless

myself.”

“Yes, but you can’t separate papers in the dark with gloves on. The fingerprints have

been collected and filed, Franz, and if any one of them can be identified he will either be dropped

on and persuaded to talk, or watched to see who his contacts are.” This happened to be true,

which, as Hambledon remarked to Reck, was convenient, because he’d probably have said it

anyway. “I can’t do anything, this is the Gestapo’s work.”

“It looks as though some steps should be taken in the matter, sir.”

“I leave it to you, Franz, with the utmost confidence,” said Tommy blandly.

Franz fidgeted about the room for some moments. “It would be very wrong, sir, of me

even to wonder what advice you would give.”

“It would be positively immoral of me to offer any,” said his master.

“Yes, sir. Would it be inconvenient to you, sir, if I were to go out for an hour to-morrow

afternoon? It is not my usual day.”

“Not at all, Franz, by all means go. There is a very exciting film being shown at some of

the cinemas, it is called, I think, ‘Flames of Desire,’ or some such title.”

“Sir?” said the surprised servant.

“It is, of course, well known to everyone that photographic records are inflammable,”

said Tommy patiently.

A slow smile spread across Franz’s face, and he left the room without replying.

A few days later Franz came to Hambledon and said without preamble, “There are certain

men, sir, who are prepared to burn the fingerprint records in possession of the Government, if

they could obtain access to the building.”

“It so happens,” said Hambledon, “that I know the place fairly well. At night it is, of

course, always locked up and the night caretaker will not open to anyone. If any person in

authority should want to turn up a record after the office shuts for the night, he would have to go

with one of the three principal heads of Departments, who would take him there, let him in with

his own key, stand over him while he transacted his business, and convey him out again. The

outer doors have an ordinary lock which opens by turning a handle like any sitting-room door,

and in addition, a Yale lock or something very like it. You know, it locks itself automatically

when you pull the door shut after you and you can’t open it again unless you have a key.”

“Are the doors locked all day, sir?”

“No, the catch of the spring lock is held back by a snib, which you slide up to put the lock

out of action and pull down again to release the catch. By day, the lock is not working, it’s only

after office hours that it is used.”

“If one could get—” began Franz, but Hambledon interrupted him.

“So you see, if one night someone were to come out of the door and absent-mindedly slip

up the snib as he went, any man who happened to be outside at the time could merely turn the

handle and walk in.”

Franz nodded eagerly. “And the night caretaker?”

“He’s a very decent old fellow named Reinhardt, a veteran of the war, a Saxon; he fought

at Ypres in ’16, he tells me. Reinhardt must be got out of the way somehow.”

“If the gentleman who was going home would send him for a taxi,” suggested Franz.

“Gentlemen,” corrected Hambledon. “There will be two of them, because one will be an

official with a key.”

“Of course, you said so just now. If Reinhardt were sent for a taxi, the taxi would come.”

Hambledon nodded. “To-day is Tuesday. Friday night about 10 p.m.? The side door, not

the main entrance.”

“Yes, sir,” said Franz, suddenly becoming the servant again. “Certainly, sir. Very good,

sir.”

“I must really apologize,” said Hambledon to the Records official, “for dragging you

away from your family like this. A man should have his evenings undisturbed.”

“Not at all, Herr Polizei Oberhaupt. Besides being my duty, it is a pleasure to serve the

Herr.”

“You are too kind,” said Hambledon, as the other man put his key in the lock. “I only

heard to-night that this man has been traced, and tomorrow—to-morrow is Saturday, is it not?-he

is going to Holland and it will be too late. Good evening, Reinhardt.”

“Why do you not arrest him at once just in case?”

“It is not a political offence,” explained Hambledon, “it is a case of private blackmail, a

crime which I hold in such abhorrence, Herr Gerhardt, that I would not even accuse a man of it

unless I were morally sure of his guilt.”

“It is evident that the Herr has the scales of justice implanted in his soul,” said Gerhardt

with poetic, but confused, metaphor. “The dossier you require should be in this folder—here it

is.”

Hambledon spent some time making notes from the dossier of a gentleman who had

indeed been convicted of blackmail in the past, and then glanced at his watch to discover to his

horror that it was five minutes past ten.

“I have completely ruined your evening,” he said. “What will Frau Gerhardt say to me?

On such a night, too, there is rain beating the windows again. I’ll send Reinhardt for a taxi and

drop you at your house on my way home. Reinhardt! Are you there? Oh, get me a taxi, would

you?”

“I beg the Herr Polizei Oberhaupt not to inconvenience himself—”

“It is no inconvenience, it is a pleasure—”

“The Herr is too polite—”

“Besides, I owe you a little return—”

“On one condition, then, that the Herr will deign to come in and take a little something.

Frau Gerhardt will remember the honour all her life.”

“I shall be glad to make my peace with the gracious Frau,” said Hambledon, who had the