Best Kept Secret

yours. The government’s interest,’ he continued, ‘centres around a man
called Don Pedro Martinez, who has fingers in so many pies that we now have a filing cabinet exclusively devoted to him. Mr Martinez is an Argentinian citizen with a residence in Eaton Square, a
country house at Shillingford, three cruise liners, a string of polo ponies stabled at the Guards Polo Club in Windsor Great Park, and a box at Ascot. He always comes to London during the season,
and has a wide circle of friends and associates who believe him to be a wealthy cattle baron. And why shouldn’t they? He owns three hundred thousand acres of pampas in Argentina, with around
five hundred thousand head of cattle grazing on it. Although this yields him a handsome profit, in fact it’s nothing more than a front to shield his more nefarious activities.’
    ‘And what are they?’ asked Giles.
    ‘To put it bluntly, Sir Giles, he’s an international crook. He makes Moriarty look like a choir boy. Allow me to tell you a little more of what we know about Mr Martinez, and then
I’ll be happy to answer any questions you might have. Our paths first crossed in 1935, when I was a special assistant attached to the War Office. I discovered he was doing business with
Germany. He had forged a close relationship with Heinrich Himmler, the head of the SS, and we know he met Hitler on at least three occasions. During the war he made a vast fortune supplying the
Germans with whatever raw materials they were short of, although he was still living in Eaton Square.’
    ‘Why didn’t you arrest him?’ asked Giles.
    ‘It suited our purposes not to,’ said Sir Alan. ‘We were keen to find out who his contacts in Britain were, and what they were up to. Once the war was over, Martinez returned
to Argentina and continued trading as a cattle farmer. In fact, he never once went back to Berlin after the Allies had entered the city. He continued to visit this country regularly. He even sent
all three of his sons to English public schools, and his daughter is currently at Roedean.’
    ‘Forgive me for interrupting,’ said Emma, ‘but how does Sebastian fit into all of this?’
    ‘He didn’t, Mrs Clifton, until last week, when he turned up unannounced at forty-four Eaton Square, and his friend Bruno invited him to stay.’
    ‘I’ve met Bruno a couple of times,’ said Harry, ‘and I thought he was a charming young man.’
    ‘I’m sure he is,’ said Sir Alan. ‘Which only adds to Martinez’s image as a decent family man who loves England. However, your son unwittingly became involved in an
operation our law-enforcement agencies have been working on for several years when he met Don Pedro Martinez for the second time.’
    ‘The second time?’ queried Giles.
    ‘On June eighteenth 1954,’ said Sir Alan, referring to his notes, ‘Martinez invited Sebastian to join him at the Beechcroft Arms public house to celebrate Bruno’s
fifteenth birthday.’
    ‘You keep that close an eye on Martinez?’ said Giles.
    ‘We most certainly do.’ The cabinet secretary extracted a brown envelope from the papers in front of him, took out two five-pound notes and placed them on the table. ‘And Mr
Martinez gave your son these two bank notes on Friday evening.’
    ‘But that’s more money than Sebastian has ever had in his life,’ said Emma. ‘We only give him half a crown pocket money each week.’
    ‘I expect Martinez realized that such a sum would be more than enough to turn the young man’s head. He then trumped it by inviting Sebastian to accompany him to Buenos Aires at a
time when he knew the boy was at his most vulnerable.’
    ‘How did you come into possession of the two random five-pound notes Martinez gave to my son?’ asked Harry.
    ‘They’re not random,’ said the man from the Treasury, speaking for the first time. ‘We’ve collected over ten thousand of them in the past eight years, as a result
of information supplied by what I believe the police call a reliable source.’
    ‘What reliable source?’ demanded Giles.
    ‘Have you ever heard of an SS officer called Major Bernhard Krüger?’ asked Spencer.
    The silence that followed suggested that none of them had.
    ‘Major Krüger is a resourceful and intelligent man, who was a police inspector in Berlin before he joined the SS. In fact, he’d ended up in charge of the anti-counterfeit squad.
After Britain declared war on Germany, he convinced Himmler that it would be