He paused. 'They're even more annoyed that the report of the disaster got out. They moved fast, but not quite fast enough. It was too big a thing for even their censorship to hold in. News of a series of explosions was half across the world before they put out their official version of one explosion, and a British Agent had got this picture before they were reorganised enough to stop him.
'According to his report, the Excelsis landed right on top of one of the largest subterranean stores. He doesn't know the type of explosive stored there, but apparently it went off on concussion. Someone told him that so immense was the force of the explosion that the ship was blown into the air again and landed a full hundred yards to the side of its first hit. No one can say quite how that set off the rest, of course, but there seem to have been eight or ten major explosions, if not more.'
We were all a bit stunned. Our own satisfaction at being cleared from suspicion of neglect was rather damped down by the scale of the catastrophe.
'The Foreign Office,' the policeman went on, 'is inclined to link it up with reports that they've found a method of stabilising liquid oxygen bombs—which means very cheap production of explosives. They think that the stabilising may require several processes and the Excelsis concussed and set off some which were in an intermediate stage. The detonation of these might then conceivably have... .'
But we were in no mood for theoretical consideration of causes. Our own position was by now uppermost in our minds again. Captain Belford asked what all three of us wanted to know when he said:
'I suppose this means that the charge against us will be dropped?'
The other broke off and switched his attention to this side of the affair.
'You will have to attend the hearing, I'm afraid. But it will only be a matter of a few minutes. The police will inform the magistrate that in the light of further information they do not wish to proceed. That will dispose of the police side. The formal Government inquiry into the loss of the Excelsis is a different matter; that will take place in the usual course.'
It was a relief to all of us to hear that. It is a funny thing that for most men the whitest conscience is no protection from some apprehension in the presence of the police.
Chapter Six
CRIMINALS OF SPACE
We three had lunch together and went our ways with the feeling that it had all blown over quite satisfactorily for us. The prospect of a formal inquiry did not worry us: after all, that follows in three out of every four cases of salvage. For me the feeling lasted until 7 o'clock when I read in a late evening edition that Captain William Belford had been arrested at his house at Highgate.
I found the news in the stop-press after I had read the rest of the paper. They had, it appeared, now discovered that Pfaffheim was not an agricultural village, but they cautiously refrained from saying just what it was. However, I noticed that some emphasis was laid on the series of explosions in contrast to the official report. I only happened to notice the sentence in the stop-press by accident; two minutes later I was on the 'phone to Scotland Yard, I gave my name and they put me through to the D.A.C. at once.
'What's this about arresting the Captain?' I demanded. 'Have they repeated yesterday's news or something?'
'No. It's right enough,' he told me. 'We've been looking for you, too. Where are you?'
'What's it about?' I asked cautiously.
'It's about murder and attempted murder. You didn't go home this afternoon did you?'
'No. I'm just on my way there now.'
'Well, change your mind. I want you round here as soon as you can manage it.'
'But...
'No buts. This is serious. I'll tell you when you come.'
I hesitated.
'All right. In about ten minutes,' I told him.
'Glad you saw that news,' he said, as I entered. 'We hoped you would. Didn't know how else to get at you before you went home.'
'But you said this morning....' I began.
'Oh, this morning. That's different. Let me tell you this. If you'd gone home you'd most likely not be alive now. Captain Belford was shot at and wounded in front of his house about half-past three. Mr. Sinderton was murdered on his own doorstep about the same time. It's ten to one they were ready for you, too.'
'Sinderton dead?' I said, incredulously.
'With five bullets. The Captain had only a flesh wound in the arm. luckily.'
I just gaped at him.
'But I don't understand. Who... ? What... ? What do you mean, ready for me?'
'I mean that your two friends were the subjects of deliberate attacks—And I'm pretty sure you would have been, too, if they'd known where to find you.'
'But I don't understand,' I said again. 'Who do you mean by "they?" Who on earth would want to shoot me?'
'Might it not be some friends or—er—associates of the people at Pfaffheim?' he suggested.
I pulled myself together and considered. I couldn't see it.
'Quite unlikely, I should say,' I returned, pretty calmly. 'What on earth would be the good of that? What would be the point of shooting us on account of an accident? It's not sensible.'
'I don't know,' he said slowly. 'But can you think of any other reason why there should be attempts on them both?'
'I can't think of any reason at all. What you suggest certainly isn't a reason,' I told him.
'Possibly you're right. We shall see. At any rate, I shall be glad if you will make arrangements to stay away from home for a night or two until it is cleared up.'
I argued with him a bit. I couldn't see any reason why I was in danger, but he was persuasive. Without actually putting it into words, he somehow suggested that there was a lot at the back of the business. By the time he got through I had an uneasy feeling that any corner might hide a gunman waiting for me. It's not a nice sensation. In the end I agreed to stay, though not without a sense that I was scared of a shadow.
Either the Secret Service had released their photograph or some enterprising journalist had contrived to smuggle out another, for there was the picture of the damaged Excelsis, among the debris she was supposed to have caused, large in every paper, and on the front page of most. It made it clear to everyone that the ship had not blown up. Furthermore, the later editions ran a translation from German papers. Realising that their censorship had broken down, they were shouting their heads off with another theory.
The whole thing, we learned, was an infamous plot. Jewish influence, combining behind the Jewish Captain Belford, had aimed a blow at the defences of the Reich; the first blow in the covert war which World Jewry was opening against Germany: the blood of two thousand five hundred German martyrs was on their heads. Investigations by the Gestapo had revealed that Captain Belford and his officers had been bribed to the extent of £250,000 to drop the Excelsis on the defenceless town of Pfaffheim and to make it appear an accident. It was no accident. It was a bolt fired at Germany and German defence. The two thousand five hundred Aryan Germans who had been its victims had fallen for the Fatherland as truly as any soldier in the field. They would be avenged. The people of the Third Reich demanded that the murderers be surrendered to German justice.