Nice lonely bit of country as flat as a pancake. They’ve got a gang of men working there already, railing it off with barbed wire. Going to be one of the biggest aerodromes in England when it’s finished—everything O.K. and slap up-to-date.”

“Sounds decidedly interesting.” Craig gave an approving nod. “I must congratulate you on a smart job of work.”

“Thanks, but I wasn’t looking for compliments. What I could do with is something a bit more solid. Surely the right dope on a new airfield—”

“You can leave that to me. Our friends are always prepared to pay for what they want. They are too clever to be mean about trifles.”

Olga Brandon sat silent for a moment, staring thoughtfully at the speaker’s face.

“You believe in them thoroughly, don’t you, Mark? You haven’t the slightest doubt that they are going to pull it off?”

“None whatever. Within two years at the utmost the Germans will be the masters of the whole of Europe. Nothing can prevent it.”

“You will be a very important man.” Olga’s fingers tightened. “You will have money—money and power.”

“A good deal of both if all goes well. One has to take risks, of course.”

“How long do you think it will be before things begin to happen?”

“They are happening now. Preparations are going on night and day everywhere.” The clock on the mantelpiece tinkled out the half-hour, and glancing across the room, Craig pushed back his chair.

“What’s the matter? You’re not off yet, are you?”

“I must get along to the Club. I have an appointment for six-thirty. By the way, I believe you’ve met the man—a fellow called Granville Sutton.”

“What does he want?”

“Haven’t a notion. He rang up this morning while I was out, and Casey gave him a date. All I know about him is that he’s got a bungalow at Playford and that he used to be rather thick with that young fool Medlicot.”

“He couldn’t make any trouble, could he?”

“Only for himself, I should say.” Craig gave an ugly laugh. “It’s probably nothing of any importance; still, I thought I had better see him and find out.” He moved forward to where Olga was sitting, and bending down, kissed her on the lips. “One-thirty at the Milan to-morrow then, and it’s just possible that I may have some good news for you. No, don’t trouble to disturb yourself, my dear. I have been here often enough to find my way out.”

***

The taxi swerved round the corner into Grosvenor Street, and pulled up in front of a house on the north-west side. It was a large, four-storey house with a discreetly prosperous appearance. Neatly kept flower-boxes adorned the lower windows, and on one of the two pillars which sheltered the handsome door in the centre could be observed a small brass plate engraved with the words “The Mayflower Club.” Except for this laconic announcement one would have taken it to be the Town residence of some affluent or distinguished family.

“Paper, sir?”

A passing newsvendor halted inquiringly, and purchasing a late Star, Craig paid off the driver and moved leisurely across the pavement. The door was opened by a stalwart commissionaire who gave him a respectful salute, and passing through a handsomely furnished hall, he jerked back the gate of an automatic lift. A few moments later he was stepping out on to the top landing—a small private suite shut off from the rest of the establishment which he had had fitted up for his own use.

The apartment he entered was a cross between an office and an expensively equipped sitting-room. At one end of it an American desk and a couple of large filing cabinets took up most of the available space, but everywhere else there was a suggestion of solid—even luxurious—comfort, the most noticeable example of which was the deep, cushion-piled, leather divan that occupied the whole corner between the window and the fireplace. Judging by the pictures that decorated the walls, a generous appreciation of the nude in art was one of their owner’s principal characteristics.

Moving over to the desk, Craig glanced through a small pile of letters which had arrived by the midday post. Most of them he tossed into the waste-paper basket, and leaving the remnant to be attended to later on, settled down in the nearest arm-chair and unfolded his copy of the Star. Then, pulling out his note-case, he extracted a slip of paper containing a list of the bets which he had made earlier in the day.