Krogh seized upon it, deciding the cocktail party was not the waste of time he’d initially considered it to be but a useful opportunity to make easier what he was being blackmailed into doing. Carefully ensuring that Springley was close enough at hand to hear the discussion, Krogh assured those grouped around him that he and his company were equally conscious of its importance. He disclosed, truthfully, that it was the most substantial order they had ever received from the Pentagon. And insisted it was because they were so determined that everything would be entirely satisfactory and create the confidence sufficient for new contracts in the future that he had come all the way from California, for this consultation.
Bishop responded precisely as Krogh wanted, turning to Springley when he said: ‘I couldn’t agree more; liaison is essential.’
‘I want to guarantee the complete compatibility of what we’re manufacturing over there and the work you’re doing here,’ said Krogh. ‘I know we’ve individually got sets of master drawings which are supposed to connect, one to the other, and that in theory they should marry together but I’ve known split defence undertakings before where that hasn’t happened…’ He smiled, shaking his head in invitation to a common experience. ‘… And you know what happens every time? The mistake is never the fault of the Pentagon designers or draughtsmen: always the buck is passed to the contractors’ interpretation and the next contract goes to somebody else.’
The chairman smiled, taking Krogh’s cue. ‘Bureaucracy! It’s the same the world over.’
‘I’m glad you agree my visit is necessary,’ said Krogh.
‘I think it’s imperative,’ insisted Bishop. Again the man spoke half looking at Springley.
Krogh decided, satisfied, that it was practically an order to the project chief to share and disclose everything that was demanded of him. Protecting himself further Krogh said: ‘I’ll probably want to come more than once…’ He paused, sweeping his hand to embrace the reception put on for his benefit ‘… and I don’t mean to all this, for which I thank you: you’ve been most kind. I mean to come back to spend some time with Mr Springley here to make sure we’ve got the compatibility we want…’ Krogh allowed another pause, to establish his argument. He concluded: ‘… to guarantee the re-orders and new contracts we want.’
There were smiles from everyone in the room and Krogh realized, astonished, that he was welcoming the attention and admiration. It made him feel good: important. Which was preposterous: preposterous and ridiculous, and Krogh was embarrassed even to think it.
Spear, the managing director, said: ‘Mr Krogh, you’re welcome at this establishment as many times and for as long as you like.’
There were more drinks, which Krogh enjoyed, and then a call to lunch in a small directors’ dining room, which was another social extension the American hadn’t foreseen. He sat between Bishop and Spear, and was content to let the two men dominate the conversation. The talk was of other space developments with which their company had been associated in Europe and the surprisingly poor commitment to space technology shown by the British government which expected profit return upon investment within a year or two and was never prepared to wait any time beyond. Krogh sympathized and agreed it was small-minded and short-sighted, and allowed himself to be drawn about his own company and the previous spacework they had completed for the American government. Towards the end, when he was talking of those defence contracts, Krogh’s fragile confidence began to slip at the spectre of what he had already done and was continuing to do that day and at what would happen to him if he were ever caught. The meal ended with a rather embarrassing formal speech which the chairman rose to give, concluding with a toast to Krogh who, unprepared for this as with everything else, groped to his feet and muttered how pleased he was to be there and how gratified he was by everything that had been said.
Throughout the meal Springley sat opposite, although contributing little to the discussion. After the speech Bishop leaned across the table to the man and said: ‘It’s going to be full cooperation and liaison, OK?’
‘I understand,’ said the project chief. ‘I’m sure Mr Krogh and I are going to get along together just fine.’
It was approaching four o’clock before they left the dining room and finally made their way towards the secure division of the factory. As they walked Krogh said: ‘That went on a bit, didn’t it?’
Springley smiled in understanding but didn’t openly criticize. Instead he said: ‘This contract is regarded pretty highly here. And you with it.’
Moving to capitalize upon the promises from the chairman, Krogh said: ‘So how many drawings do I have to consider, in all?’
‘Twenty-four,’ said Springley at once. ‘Some very simple, some not so simple.’
Not as many as he had feared, from the lunchtime talk, thought Krogh. But still enough. It wasn’t possible, until he saw them, to estimate how long it would take him to reproduce them all. He said: ‘There’s insufficient time left today for me to get anything but the most general overview.’
‘If that,’ agreed Springley.
Inside the division Krogh was introduced to those in the project team he had not yet met and as he went through the ritual he decided against any attempt in the last hour to memorize the drawings he had come to see. Instead, rather than concentrate upon one blueprint, he scanned them all, mentally categorizing them to assess the degree of work involved and the amount of time that would be involved in doing it. It was still only a rough calculation but he divided the drawings into eleven that were comparatively easy, little more than links between one to another of the remaining, much more intricate and difficult thirteen: although separate, some of the drawings were enlarged and more detailed specifications of other, more general plans. Krogh calculated that working flat out he could reproduce the easier, linking designs in two days, three at the outside, but that the other thirteen would each take him the minimum of a day and in several cases even longer.
‘How’s it look?’ asked Springley, at his shoulder.
Krogh shrugged. ‘Impossible to say, from a quick look like this: naturally it’s all familiar…’ He paused, looking around the facility, determined upon every advantage. ‘Is there a place I can work, out of everybody’s way, when I come back?’
‘Of course,’ assured Springley, gesturing to one of the smaller offices at the side of the communal drawing room. ‘There are two or three rooms that aren’t being used.’
‘Thank you, for everything,’ said Krogh.
Springley smiled faintly. ‘We haven’t done anything yet.’
‘But it’s going to work out, isn’t it?’ said Krogh. ‘Work out just like we want it to.’
By lunchtime that day the news of Krogh’s presence – ‘the head of the American company, he’s actually here!’ – had spread throughout the factory. Henry Blackstone heard about it in the canteen and spent the afternoon close to a convenient window, so he saw Krogh cross into the secret division with Springley after the boardroom greeting. For no positive reason Blackstone lingered after finishing work, not immediately outside where he would have been recognized and possibly aroused curiosity by hanging about but along the road by a pub named after Queen Victoria, who had favoured the island as a holiday home, and so he had a perfect view of Krogh as the limousine swept by, returning the man to the mainland ferry terminal. Blackstone decided, pleased, that it was definitely something to report to the London number he now knew by heart. It obviously wasn’t important enough to earn him the sort of money he would have got for a blueprint but he was sure it deserved some payment. He hoped so: he was desperately short of money, back in the sort of position he’d thought he’d escaped for ever. Blackstone was actually humming to himself as he drove towards Newport in the car upon which he was already two months behind with the payments.