Much the same account of Escobar, with this instance of Rackham Park omitted, was given to Hillyard by Commodore Graham on the Friday morning.

“He is the kind of man whom men loathe and women like.  He runs about London, gets a foot in here and there.  You know what London is, even now in the midst of this war, with its inability to be surprised, and its indifference to strange things.  You might walk down Regent Street dressed up as a Cherokee Indian, feathers and tomahawk and all, and how many Cockneys would take the trouble to turn round and look at you twice?  It was pretty easy for Escobar to slip about unnoticed.”

Commodore Graham bent his head over the case of tubes which Hillyard had brought with him.

“We’ll have a look-out kept for these things.  There have been none of them in England up till now.”

Martin Hillyard returned to the personality of Mario Escobar.

“Did you suspect him before?” he asked.

Commodore Graham pushed the cigarettes towards Hillyard.

“Scotland Yard has kept an eye on him.  That sort of adventurer is always dangerous.”

He rang the bell, and on Miss Cheyne’s appearance called for what information the office had concerning Mario Escobar.  Miss Cheyne returned with a book in which Escobar’s dossier was included.

“Here he is,” said Graham, and Hillyard, moving across to the bureau, followed Graham’s forefinger across the written page.  He was agent for the Compania de Navigacion del Sur d’Espana—­a German firm on the black list, headquarters at Alicante.  Escobar severed his connection with the company on the outbreak of war.

Graham raised his head to comment on the action.

“That, of course, was camouflage.  But it checked suspicion for a time.  Suspicion was first aroused,” and he resumed reading again, “by his change of lodging.  He lived in a small back bedroom in a boarding-house in Clarence Street, off Westbourne Grove, and concealed his address, having his letters addressed to his club, until February, 1915, upon which date he moved into a furnished flat in Maddox Street.  Nothing further, however, happened to strengthen that suspicion until, in the autumn of that year, a letter signed Mario was intercepted by the censor.  It was sent to a Diego Perez, the Director of a fruit company at Murcia, for Emma Grutsner.”

“You sent me a telegram about her,” exclaimed Hillyard, “in November.”

Commodore Graham’s forefinger travelled along the written lines and stopped at the number and distinguishing sign of the telegram, sent and received.

“Yes,” continued Graham.  “Here’s your answer.  ’Emma Grutzner is the governess in a Spanish family at Torrevieja, and she goes occasionally, once a month or so, to the house of Diego Perez in Murcia.’”

“Yes, yes!  I routed that out,” said Hillyard.  “But I hadn’t an idea that Mario Escobar was concerned in it.”