Wallace Intervenes

by Alexander Wilson

  Sir Leonard folded up the papers which contained information of such tremendous significance to the whole of Europe; handed them to his companion.

  ‘You must go to Paris on important business concerning the firm tomorrow,’ he directed. ‘There must be no delay. Cousins and I will affect the rescues as best we can alone. It is essential that those must reach the Foreign Secretary as soon as possible. As soon as you reach Paris get Lalére to telephone to Carter to cross from London immediately. You will seal the papers, and hand them to him with instructions to take them at once to the Foreign Office. Understand?’

  ‘Very well, sir,’ Gottfried put them carefully away in an inner pocket of his coat.

  ‘When you report what you have been told by your two Bavarian clients to the Minister of Propaganda, you can mention incidentally that you have been called to Paris for a conference. We don’t want him to rope you in also as a witness against the baroness. Of course, if he does it, it can’t be helped. You must make no objection, and postpone your departure for a day or two. In that event the delay cannot be helped.’ Gottfried had refilled his glass as he was speaking. He raised it now, looked reflectively at its amber contents for a moment or two; then added softly: ‘I drink to the safety of a very gallant lady.’

  Gottfried hastened to raise his own glass. It was amazing the expression almost of reverent gentleness that crossed his stern, rugged face as he murmured, ‘That Baroness von Reudath.’

  A few minutes later came a ring at the door bell, and Cousins was admitted. In reply to Sir Leonard’s questioning look the little man smiled, and nodded.

  ‘Everything OK, sir,’ he announced. ‘Miss Meredith reached the embassy without incident of any kind, and is now safely inside.’

  ‘Excellent,’ remarked the chief. ‘Now have a drink, and we’ll start on our preparations.’

  A few minutes after Wallace and Cousins commenced changing their disguises. First of all they removed all traces of their previous characterisations, and revelled in warm baths – a distinct and pleasing relief to both of them. It was only then that Sir Leonard gave his companions details of the fresh roles he had decided Cousins and he would play.

  ‘Do you remember the two Bavarians living in the Hungaria at Budapest who became so friendly with Dora Reinwald and Rosemary Meredith?’ he asked the little man.

  ‘You mean August Keller and Franz Minck, sir?’

  ‘Exactly. You and I will borrow their personalities. They had several conversations with the baroness and Foster, and dined with them and the two girls once. Keller was about my height and Minck was not much taller than you, though a good deal stouter, so there are no insurmountable difficulties.’

  ‘Can you remember them sufficiently to deceive the spy?’ asked the dubious Gottfried.

  Sir Leonard nodded.

  ‘I studied them on purpose,’ he told the other. ‘It occurred to me then that it might be useful to fix a mental picture of them in my mind with a view to impersonating them if fresh characters were needed. It will be more difficult to convince the baroness and Fraulein Reinwald who were in personal contact with Keller and Minck. It might be awkward if they declared we were imposters.’

  He and Cousins set to work, Gottfried helping the chief from time to time in the adjustments of garments he could not manage with his one hand. While his fingers were expertly altering his face, Sir Leonard instructed Cousins in the story they would repeat to Gottfried when they entered the shop in the morning, and advised and directed him regarding his conduct if and when questioned by the Minister of Propaganda and afterwards when acting as witnesses. Cousins nodded and smiled from time to time. Neither he nor Wallace seemed to consider that there was any particular danger attached to the undertaking to which they were about to commit themselves. Gottfried felt differently, however, the worried frown on his brow testifying to the anxiety of his thoughts. He mentioned his doubts once, but Wallace smiled cheerfully at him.

  ‘The very fact,’ he declared, ‘that we will be giving evidence against the baroness will be our greatest safeguard. Who would suspect people desiring to help her who were engaged in condemning her?’

  Always thorough and extremely careful to leave nothing to chance, Sir Leonard and Cousins took a considerable time over their preparations. At length they were completed, and once again their individualities had changed entirely. Cousins, thanks to specially constructed shoes, was three or four inches taller than his normal. He had become stout, red-faced, and jolly-looking with sparse fair hair, and wore a pair of large glasses through which he looked benevolently out at the world. Sir Leonard was his own slim self, but had a long, narrow, rather sallow face and slightly protruding upper teeth. His hair was also fair, but thick and untidy; his nose was inclined to be pointed, while a straggly moustache surmounted his upper lip. A long scar suggestive of a student’s duel ran the course of his left eye to his chin. Gold rimmed pince-nez over a pair of half-closed sleepy eyes completed his disguise. Gottfried inspected them both, expressing his admiration. He still felt very doubtful, however, of the welcome of the daring enterprise on which they were hoping to embark, but said no more. He knew it would not only savour of impertinence, but be utterly useless to attempt to persuade Sir Leonard to decide on a less risky method of finding out all he wanted to know about the prison. The chief regarded his artificial arm rather ruefully.

  ‘I notice,’ he remarked, ‘that Keller had a habit of using his left arm rather a lot. That is something I cannot do. I dare not show my left hand at all. Yet it will perhaps appear strange to that fellow Carl if he is at all of an observant nature.’ He stood in thought for a few moments, after which he smiled a little. ‘I had an accident just before leaving Budapest – fell down and broke a small bone in my wrist. I shall want bandages and a sling, Gottfried, please.’

  A couple of hours later, he and Cousins quietly left the flat, Gottfried having first ascertained that the way was perfectly clear. They went to the Anhalt Station by a circuitous route, and hid themselves in the vicinity, waiting for the coming of the early morning train from Prague. On its arrival they mingled with the passengers, and engaged a taxicab to drive them to the Adlon Hotel. Both carried bags well-labelled and indicating that they had come from Vienna and Budapest. They registered as August Keller and Franz Minck, and appeared a couple of men imbued with the determination to enjoy themselves, though perhaps Minck gave the impression of possessing a heartier sense of enjoyment than his companion. They were well-dressed, and seemed to be amply supplied with money. They ate excellent breakfasts; after which they strolled out of the hotel to see the sights both apparently looking forward eagerly to an enjoyable stay in Berlin. It would be difficult to imagine how either Sir Leonard or Cousins were able to appear so thoroughly bright and energetic. Neither had had much sleep since arriving in Berlin by the same train that had brought the Baroness von Reudath and her companions to that city – on the previous night they had merely dozed for an hour or so, in Gottfried’s easy chairs. Neither, however, showed signs of the slightest fatigue.

  Shortly after nine they entered the imposing shop of Lalére et Cie, and informed the assistant, who hastened to attend to their requirements, that they wished to purchase perfume for three ladies. Gottfried had known the exact time they would arrive, and had taken care to be in the shop. He entered into conversation with them, joining in the important discussion on scent. When they confessed that they had no idea of the preference of the three ladies, he shook his head solemnly.

  ‘That is a great pity,’ he declared. ‘I do not know how to advise you. You see, gentlemen, without knowing, you may present them with something they do not like. All Lalére’s perfumes are beautiful, we do not deal in anything of an inferior or pungent quality; nevertheless, you must remember there are individual tastes.’

  ‘We did not think of that,’ admitted the sham Herr Keller. He looked at his companion. ‘Do you know what the baroness or Dora or Rosemary like, Franz?’ he asked.

&nb
sp; The stout Herr Minck beamed cheerfully.

  ‘No, I do not know. Perhaps, if we buy Eau de Cologne we will be safe.’

  Herr Keller clicked his teeth impatiently.

  ‘How can we present Eau de Cologne to the Baroness von Reudath!’ he protested.

  Gottfried and his assistant favoured them with looks of interest.

  ‘Do you know the Baroness von Reudath?’ asked the former.

  ‘Of course,’ returned Franz Minck. ‘My friend and I had the privilege of much charming conversation with her. We were more friendly with her companions you will understand, but she was very kind.’

  ‘And so delightfully frank,’ added Herr Keller. ‘She told us much of the confidence His Excellency reposes in her. His plans are very wonderful, do you not think so? He is indeed a great man.’

  Gottfried suggested a perfume which he thought would appeal to the ladies, and, on the two visitors announcing their intention to take his advice, sent his assistant away to procure the selected bottles, and wrap them up. The manager then leant confidentially over the counter.

  ‘I agree with you that His Excellency is a great man,’ he declared. ‘The baroness, of course is known to be in his confidence. Did she tell you much of his plans?’

  ‘She could not tell us a great deal,’ replied Keller. ‘She would not reveal such secrets, but we could read between the lines. The scheme for equipping a great army, air corps, and navy, and the methods of obtaining them she did not divulge but we know there are plans on foot for the raising of men, building of ships and aeroplanes, and that the government possesses a great secret which, in time of war, would confound the enemy.’

  ‘I see,’ murmured Gottfried. ‘She must have been very friendly with you to tell you all that?’

  They raised their shoulders deprecatingly.

  ‘We were more friendly with the two companions,’ repeated Franz Minck. ‘What lovely girls!’ He raised his eyes ecstatically. ‘Dora Reinwald captured my heart. Yet she is a Jewess, and hates His Excellency.’

  ‘Did she tell you that?’ demanded Gottfried eagerly.

  ‘Words to that effect,’ nodded the other. ‘But we must not blame her too severely. She does not understand.’

  The assistant returned with the package. Herr Minck took it, while his companion paid, and the two left the shop. Directly they had departed, Gottfried entered his office, and telephoned to the Minister of Propaganda. To that important individual he imparted what the two apparently gullible Bavarians had told him. Sir Leonard’s scheme worked like a charm. The Minister was vastly interested, almost excited. He explained to Gottfried in confidence that the Baroness von Reudath was about to be tried for treason, and that it was possible the Bavarians would be required to give evidence.

  ‘It would be useful perhaps,’ he added, ‘if you were also present.’

  ‘I am sorry, Herr Minister,’ replied the manager of Lalére et Cie regretfully, ‘but I must leave for Paris today, for a conference with my directors. Of course, if you insist, I will telegraph to postpone my visit.’

  ‘No, no,’ came the voice over the telephone. ‘It is not necessary, it does not matter. I will have a talk myself with these men. What did you say their names are?’ Gottfried told him, adding the address. ‘I thank you very much,’ went on the Minister of Propaganda. ‘Once again you have proved yourself a great patriot. Neither His Excellency nor I will forget.’

  Sir Leonard and Cousins were sitting in the lounge of the Adlon Hotel when the manager approached them, accompanied by an officer. They both recognised the latter as the Major Wilhelm whom they had seen in Budapest, and who, they knew, had conveyed a summons then to the Baroness von Reudath to return to Berlin.

  ‘These gentlemen are Herr Keller and Herr Minck,’ announced the manager, regarding the two a trifle doubtfully.

  Major Wilhelm clicked his heels and bowed. He waited until his escort had left, then:

  ‘I am to request you, gentlemen,’ he informed them, ‘to accompany me to the Reichstag. His Excellency, the Supreme Marshal himself, wishes to speak with you.’

  Wallace and Cousins rose to their feet, giving a very good impression of men struck with amazement not unmixed with perturbation.

  ‘His Excellency wishes to speak with – with us,’ stammered the sham Franz Minck. ‘Why?’

  ‘That he himself will tell you. Come, gentlemen. His Excellency does not like to be kept waiting.’

  They accompanied him, still looking astonished and dismayed. In the car he took no notice of them whatsoever, not even deigning to reply when the pseudo Herr Keller attempted to get into conversation with him. Apparently he regarded them as beneath his notice. They were shown into a small room in the Reichstag, with a sentry at the door. They were not detained there long, however. Major Wilhelm quickly returned and instructed them to follow him. He took them to a lofty, well-furnished chamber that had more the appearance of a drawing room than an office. When they had entered, he went out, closing the door behind him, and they found themselves confronting the Supreme Marshal and the Minister of Propaganda. They bowed awkwardly, and stood looking with alarmed and sheepish eyes at the men who held in their hands the destinies of Germany. The Marshal, standing with his hands behind his back, regarded them silently for a while, his dark eyes searching piercingly into theirs as though he were endeavouring to read their inmost thoughts.

  ‘You are Herr Keller and Minck of Bavaria, I understand,’ he commenced at last.

  ‘Yes, Your Excellency,’ murmured Wallace. ‘I am Keller; my friend is Franz Minck.’

  There followed several questions regarding their supposed homes in Bavaria, their holiday in Budapest, and the reason for their presence in Berlin, to all of which they answered promptly and confidently, being well-prepared. There was again silence, which von Strom followed by an entirely irrelevant query.

  ‘What is wrong with your arm?’ he asked, nodding at the bandages and sling enfolding Sir Leonard’s artificial limb.

  ‘I fell in Budapest and broke a small bone, Excellency,’ explained Herr Keller.

  ‘Oh! I am sorry!’ Another pause, then: ‘I understand you know the Baroness von Reudath?’

  Herr Keller’s apparently involuntary start was no less forcible that the exclamation that broke from the lips of Herr Minck. Their eyes met as though each was dumbly begging the other to do any explaining that might become necessary. It was Keller who replied however.

  ‘We have met the baroness, Your Excellency,’ he murmured in faltering tones. ‘We cannot claim to have the privilege of being her friends.’

  ‘Did I ask you if you were?’ snapped von Strom. ‘I have been informed that you became acquainted with the Baroness von Reudath in Budapest, and that she spoke to you of certain military schemes under private consideration by the government. Is that true?’

  ‘Sh! Those unguarded tongues of ours,’ sighed Herr Franz Minck, his jolly face screwing up into a comical expression of consternation. ‘We intended no harm, Excellency, and if—’

  ‘Is it true?’ thundered von Strom.

  ‘She spoke of you with great admiration for your brilliance,’ Herr August Keller told him hastily. ‘She let us know that she was in your confidence, and that you had wonderful schemes to build up the army, navy and air force into an organisation that would make Germany great again.’

  ‘How is it to be done?’

  ‘She did not tell us that, Your Excellency. She would not divulge matters of a nature so secret.’

  ‘What else did she say?’

  ‘Apart from the plans that are on foot for the building of many aeroplanes and ships, and the enlistment of great armies, she merely stated that you have in your possession a secret that, in time of war, will confound and rout the enemies of Germany.’

  The Marshal’s brows met together in an angry frown, while his companion looked significantly at him. Sir Leonard did not fail to note that a triumphant gleam showed in their eyes.

  ‘Did she give you
any idea of what the secret you speak about consists?’

  ‘Oh, no, Excellency,’ smiled Herr Keller. ‘She would not do that. She only said what she did to prove to us the great things Germany could expect you to accomplish. She was full of enthusiasm for you and your work,’

  ‘Ah! Bah!’ sneered the other. ‘You are great fools, August Keller, you and you friend, Franz Minck.’ He turned away and began to pace to and fro, his hands clasping and unclasping behind his back, while the other three men in the room watched him, two with pretended fear showing in their expressions, the other with half-veiled looks of delight. Abruptly he turned back and confronted the disguised Englishman. ‘You are sure there was nothing else of importance concerning me and my work?’ he demanded.