'Yes. Thank you.' Now alone, Malory began to move the bars . . . The object was of so similar a colour, and Malory's eyes had been half-dazzled for so long by the glow of the overhead lighting reflected by the surfaces of the ingots, that it must have lain exposed for some moments before he saw it and switched off the hand. He leaned over, picked up the object, and could not suppress a chuckle; for Zaharoffs secret (and he was certain now that this must be Zaharoff's secret) was contained in a vessel entirely appropriate to the man: a brass shell-case. He frowned, though, as he turned it in his hands and saw that it was stamped with the name of its maker. Not Vickers of Sheffield, though. The familiar stamp 'Kpz' was the mark of Krupp, of Essen. It took time to summon Griffin, to communicate with Chubb's, to close the vault door. Inside the vault the bars were not replaced in a single neat stack. That could wait . . . Sir Horace Malory, a long brown envelope in his hand concealing the shell-case, was on his way to his own office, where he quickly discovered that the 'Kpz' of Krupp was not the only peculiarity of the shell-case. Further lettering had been punched into the brass and it read: 'Do not attempt to open without correct key.' Malory looked for the keyhole and found it without difficulty. Where the percussion cap would normally have been, a barrel lock had been fitted.
His hands trembled a little as he removed the gold number 6 from his watch-chain and examined the small key opening of the lock. This was a moment - and he was keenly aware of it - of no little danger. The shell-case itself was warning enough, and everything he knew of Zaharoff underlined the warning. To use the wrong key would probably activate some explosive or incendiary device; Zaharoff had fabricated not toys, but arms. And if the shell-case contained protection for Hillyard, Cleef, then Malory was sure it would also contain the means of its own destruction.
He looked at the lock.
He looked at the key, noting the exactly-fashioned curve of the descender, which must presumably act upon the lock's spring.
I am, perhaps, about to die, he thought. He lit a cigar and poured a small measure of Cardhu, and relished both. After a while he put the key into the lock: and heard the spring inside give. So far so good. All the same, Malory removed the contents of the shell-case with considerable care. They were papers, rolled up, and had to be straightened before they could properly be examined. He performed the little task patiently, and found himself at last looking at a number of documents. There were eighteen or twenty sheets altogether. Most were in either German or Russian; some were handwritten, others typed. They appeared, in the main, to be lists of names, though some seemed to be organizational charts. Only one was in English and that, like the instructions in the vault, was in the familiar cursive hand of Basil Zaharoff. Malory, sitting as he now felt he was, in a castle under siege, hoped this was the drawbridge, or even the boiling oil, which would keep the enemy out.
'In April of 1918 I made a visit to Germany,' Zaharoff wrote. 'Because of the war it was not made without difficulty, and for it I adopted a Bulgarian persona.'
Malory nodded to himself. Historians had already unearthed the strange fact of Zaharoff s trip-and the disguise he had used: that of a Bulgarian doctor - but had never fathomed its purpose, such purpose being largely unimaginable, considering that Britain and Germany had been four years at war and Zaharoff supplied many of the means of Britain's making that war. I went to see Krupp, and Generals Ludendorff and Hindenburg to discuss the effect of the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk upon the future of the European conflict.
In February the previous year, because pressure upon me from the Imperial Russian Government had become too intense, I conceived the idea that Lenin be at once sent back to Russia to further foment the Bolshevik Revolution and I conveyed this idea to Ludendorff and Hindenburg. It was not done until March, because the German General Staff required safeguards. But then they agreed to the provision of the sealed train in which Lenin travelled, and the necessary safe-conduct through German lines, only upon Lenin's agreement to give, in exchange, the means of acting against the existing Communist organization inside Germany and Austria if it became necessary to do so. Lenin agreed to this!The papers enclosed are lists of local members and cells of the German and Austrian Communist parties. The lists are Lenin's own, supplied by him, many in his own hand. They are the originals (Ludendorff and Hindenburg retained and required only copies) and several bear Lenin's signature.
Also among the papers is a letter from Lenin to General Ludendorff, confirming the authenticity of the documents.
All these were supplied to me in April of 1918 as a gesture of thanks after the establishment of peace the previous month between Lenin's Bolshevik regime and Germany.
They were, at that time, merely a means of applying pressure, if necessary, upon Lenin himself. With Lenin's death, and his subsequent steady elevation to something approaching sainthood, it seems to me now that these papers, (proving as they do that Lenin was willing, even eager, to betray all his political friends for personal advantage) could be used to strike at the very root of the Lenin legend. I feel sure any Soviet Government, now or in the future, would be deeply anxious to avoid their publication. As to other potential contenders for our metallic assets: they may seek to prove many things, and some they may succeed in; but unless they are able to prove that our metal is their metal, they will be wasting their time. Not notional sums: The metal itself.
ZZ
An hour later, the intervening time having been spent in reflection, Malory telephoned the Governor of the Bank of England. 'Thought I'd put you out of your misery, old feller. I've found it.'
'Found what?'
'The Zaharoff Defence,' said Malory.
'Oh, nicely put,' said the Governor. 'But will it work? How watertight is it?'
'Imagine you're Stalin,' Malory said, 'or Khruschev, or Brezhnev, or this feller Andropov whoever. Imagine that, eh? You've already got half the world and you want the other half. All of it on Leninist principles.'
'Go on.'
'And then somebody turned up who could show the idol's feet of clay?'
'And Zaharoff could?'
'You can forget Zaharoff,' said Malory. 'I rather believe I can do it myself!'