CHAPTER XVII
The Decoy Wireless
The _West Barbican's_ stay at Cape Town was of short duration. Shelanded about a score of her passengers and a small quantity of cargo,coaled, and proceeded, giving Peter little opportunity of a closeracquaintance with the oldest city of South Africa.
He was fairly busy during the run round to Durban, since the ship waswithin wireless range both of Cape Town and the seaport of Natal.Consequently he spent most of his waking hours in the wireless-cabin,rather than have to be continually called by Partridge and Plover.
The _West Barbican_, having spent a night at anchor under the Bluffs atDurban, proceeded alongside the quay to disembark the bulk of herpassengers and a considerable amount of cargo.
It was here that "Mr. Porter" severed his personal acquaintance withthe ship, although his interest in the _West Barbican_ did not in theleast degree wane. On the contrary it was rapidly increasing.
With a Kaffir porter carrying his portmanteau and suit-case vonSchoeffer passed along the gangway and gained terra firma. He hadfound no suitable place in which he could secrete his explosives, norhad he an opportunity for so doing; so the only course that remainedopen, short of dumping the stuff into the sea, was to take it ashorewith him.
He anticipated no difficulty in passing the Customs. None of theofficials would detect in the harmless-looking slab that resembledsheet-glue one of the strongest explosives possible to obtain. Theywere "traveller's samples" and as such were allowed duty free.
So within ten minutes of leaving the _West Barbican_ Ludwig Schoefferwas bowling along in a rickshaw, drawn by a huge, muscular Zulu "boy",en route for a small hotel that overlooked the harbour.
On the following day Schoeffer's explosive, with the detonator timedfor its maximum limit, was stored in No. 3 hold of the S.S. _WestBarbican_, as one of the twenty odd cases of hardware consigned by thewell-known firm of Van der Veld to Senhor Perez Bombardo of Beira.
Simply but effectively disguised, Schoeffer saw the crate whipped onboard and lowered into the hold. So far so good. It looked as if hewere certain of success. He chuckled as he conjured up a mentalpicture of the head director of the Pfieldorf Company handing over asubstantial cheque.
During the rest of the _West Barbican's_ stay at Durban, LudwigSchoeffer lay low. For the present he had done all that was necessary.His deep-laid scheme was progressing favourably.
His idea was to signal the ship by means of wireless and, by spuriousauthority, order her to Rangoon. It was not unusual for ships of theBlue Crescent Line to receive unexpected orders when on the high seas,since they held roving commissions once they were round the Cape andhad landed their mails.
And, since it would take longer than the seven days to make Rangoon,the _West Barbican_ would end her career mysteriously in mid-IndianOcean.
At ten one morning the _West Barbican_ stood out to sea bound for Beiraand Pangawani, at which latter place she was to land the consignment ofsteelwork for the Kilba Protectorate.
At four the same afternoon Schoeffer walked into the offices of thewireless company at Durban.
"I want this message sent to the _West Barbican_," he announced,handing in a form written in code--the private code of the BlueCrescent Line.
The clerk accepted the form without demur. He had no idea of itsmeaning, nor had he any way of finding out. Not that he wanted to.Messages in code were the rule rather than the exception.
The message as received and ultimately sent off by the shore operatorwas as follows:
"SW. TLB. FEW. CNI. TLXQ. VP AELB TNI PU. AEMQ".
Ludwig Schoeffer paid the eighteen shillings demanded and obtained areceipt. Then, having got an assurance that the message would bedispatched within an hour, he wished the clerk good afternoon andwalked briskly to the waiting rickshaw.
The bogus message read, when decoded:
"I have received telegraphic instructions from your owners for you toproceed straight to Rangoon, where you will unload steelwork,proceeding thence to Port Sudan".
The Wireless Officer Page 17
