And then there occurred one of those incredible strokes of luck that made life so incomprehensible. My mind, browsing over my problems, occasionally caught isolated scraps of the news that the old man was reading out to his wife. And suddenly my mind fastened on the name of Marburg. I looked up from my bread and marmalade. ‘What did you say?’ I asked.
‘Eh?’ The old man looked quite startled, for it was the first word I had uttered since I had been given my breakfast, and I had spoken somewhat peremptorily.
‘What was that bit you were reading out about Marburg?’ I asked.
‘D’yer mean this about the bankers sending a boat-load of munitions to Finland? A feller called Marburg organised it, so the paper says. They’re ’olding a service on board this afternoon. There you are. Read it for yourself.’ And he handed me a page of the paper.
I seized it and spread it out on the table beside my plate. A sudden wild hope made the blood beat in my temples. I found the story. It was headed — BANKER SENDS MUNITIONS TO FINLAND. My eye ran rapidly down the column. The fight for democracy … Moral obligation to help … Service of dedication to be held at 3 p.m. this afternoon on board the Thirlmere, which is lying at the Wilson’s Wren Wharf … Baron Ferdinand Marburg, who raised the fund, will be present at the simple little ceremony. Many bankers and industrialists who subscribed will also be present… Finland’s gratitude for this generous gesture was expressed yesterday by … The precious cargo is valued at close on £100,000.’ Ah, here it was! ‘The cargo consists of 25 of the latest British fighter planes … tanks … hand-grenades … anti-tank guns … and-’ So I had been right! ‘And one of the latest Calboyd naval torpedo craft as supplied to the Royal Navy.’
I sat back in my chair. The audacity of the scheme took my breath away. I could not but feel admiration for the fellow. It was so perfect. Elementary, of course. It was one of the first things I had been taught when I went into the Intelligence over twenty-five years ago. A clever agent always puts himself in the most obvious place. But there are ways and ways of carrying out that fundamental precept. Marburg chose to do it in the grand manner. And for the first time since I left the Wendover Hotel in a deed-box, I felt elated. Sedel I knew for a secret agent who would stop at nothing. To me he was a rat whom I would avoid like the plague. I hate brute force. I always have done. Probably because as a barrister my weapon has always been my brain. Marburg I could understand. He fought with my weapons. And I could have laughed with the sheer excitement of it.
It may seem strange that I no longer had any doubts about Marburg. But that column was like a sign from heaven. The whole thing fitted too well. What a way to take an engine out of the country! Put it in a torpedo boat and ship it out of the country, together with a stack of other munitions for Finland, with the Government’s blessing, a dedication service and — I glanced down the column again. Yes, there it was. ‘The Thirlmere will have a British naval escort as far as Norwegian territorial waters.’ Perfect! And all those lovely munitions, paid for by Britain’s bankers and industrialists — where were they bound for?
In my mind’s eye I saw the British naval escort of two destroyers, perhaps, swing in a wide arc as they turned for home. And the Thirlmere, instead of keeping inside territorial waters, would turn away to the south as soon as they were out of sight. And then over the horizon would come German warships. Not only would Marburg be delivering to Germany an engine that would give her superiority in the air, but with it, as a kind of garnish, a shipload of munitions.
And what the devil was I to do about it? The thought had a dampening effect on my spirits. Somehow the Thirlmere had to be prevented from reaching Germany. But how?
I turned to the old man, who was now reading the history of a divorce case to his wife. ‘I’d like to attend this service,’ I said, interrupting him. ‘But I suppose the wharf will be closed to the public?’
He took off his glasses and peered at me out of his pale blue eyes. ‘Well, wot d’yer think? D’yer expect them to invite every bloody communist in the East End to their little do? Anyway, there’s plenty more places in the world besides Finland. Wot yer want to do — volunteer? Bloody poor look out, if yer ask me. So don’t say Alf ’Iggins didn’t warn yer. Russia’s all right looked at from a distance. But you keep yer distance, me lad. That’s wot I says.’
‘I wasn’t aiming to go to Finland,’ I said. ‘Though, come to think of it, it is an idea. No, I just thought it’d be a pleasant way of spending Sunday afternoon, that’s all.’
‘Wot, listening to a service?’
‘Well, there’d be some interesting people there. And it’s not every day you see a shipload of munitions dedicated to the service of God on the banks of the Thames.’
‘Yer right there. But then money does strange things, me lad. Reckon a banker can get most things dedicated to God if that’s the way ’e wants it.’ Then suddenly he leaned a little forward. ‘Who d’yer want to win — Finland or Russia?’ he demanded.
I looked at him sharply, wondering what he was getting at. ‘I hope the Finns manage to hold out,’ I replied. ‘I don’t expect them to win.’
At that he snorted. ‘So, you’re not a Red. I might have known it. Nobody interesting ever comes round this blasted street — just sailors and petty thieves and fellers who fall in the river.’ This last with a sidelong glance at me. Then he turned to his wife. ‘And I was just beginning to think, Ma, that ’e aimed to blow this ’ere ship up, dedication and all.’
‘Blow her up,’ I said, half to myself. That wasn’t at all a bad idea. She was carrying hand grenades. If I could stow away on board or something and get at those hand grenades. It would be a quick death. ‘Yes,’ I said aloud, ‘I’d like to fight for Finland. I’d like to get on to the Thirlmere.’
‘Then you must be a bleeding fool,’ the old man snapped. ‘D’yer want to go and sign yer death warrant just to get out of the country? God Almighty! Don’t yer know there are ways of lying low?’
‘Oh, I know,’ I said. ‘Still, I’d like a bit of a change and some excitement. Anyway, I’d like to have a look at the Thirlmere while this ceremony is on. I suppose you don’t happen to know of any way I could get on to Wilson’s Wren Wharf?’
‘Wilson’s Wren Wharf, is it?’ He peered at me again. ‘Wot’s it worth to you?’
I hesitated. I had under a pound left. ‘Five bob,’ I said. ‘I’d make it more, only I’m getting a bit short.’
‘That’s orl right. Why should you worry because it’s only five bob. Five bob is five bob, ain’t it. I wouldn’t take yer money, only it means rowing yer across the river, and that’s hard work for a Sunday. Wot d’you say, Ma — shall we go across the river and ’ave a dekko? The missis likes a little trip on the river after the Sunday joint, when it’s a fine day like it is now, don’t ye, Ma?’ The old woman nodded, but said nothing.
‘But how do we get on to the wharf?’ I asked.
‘We don’t,’ was the reply. ‘Wilson’s Wren Wharf is down in the Lower Pool. Next to it is the Percivale Banana Company’s Wharf. It’s closed now, but Bill Fevvers, wot looks after it for ’em, ’e’s a chum of mine.’
I thanked him as he returned to his divorce case. Whilst finishing my bread and marmalade, I read carefully through the Thirlmere story and found one point which seemed important. The Government had recently announced that Britons were to be allowed to volunteer for Finland. Apparently a batch of ten the — first volunteers from Britain — were leaving on the Thirlmere. They were acting as a guard. It occurred to me that if they had been chosen by Marburg, they would prove very useful, presuming that the captain and crew of the Thirlmere were just plain seamen.