Berlin, Köpenick Palace, Saturday, 9 October 1948
Rene Mathis returned to the museum, as appointed, with a heightened sense of professional concern. He had notified Paris of the intelligence coup in the offing, and le Chef had given his approval, with one proviso – that Mathis personally validate that the machine and its manual existed before exchanging a single franc. He was not certain how Blofeld would react to this, the Pole seeming to prefer hands off exchanges of material; never the less, if Blofeld wanted his quarter-million francs he would have to allow Mathis to see the goods.
He had not long to wait. This time he spotted Blofeld has he approached and stood to greet him.
“Herr Blofeld.”
“Herr Mathis” The Pole nodded and walked over to one of the less-interesting exhibits, where they might have greater privacy. “I presume you found my last sample of sufficient interest?”
“Yes… however my employers are, shall we say, reticent to act without assurance that the goods are as described.”
“You would like to examine the machine?”
“Precisely. You have a very direct manner that I find refreshing.”
Blofeld reached inside his jacket pocket and took out a business card. “If you call at the address on the back at eight o’clock this evening, I shall have the goods ready for examination. I suggest you have the money with you, for there are other potential buyers.”
With that Blofeld departed. Mathis looked at the card and read the hand-written address, somewhere in Müggelheim, one of the city’s outer suburbs.
The time of the appointment allowed Mathis more than sufficient time to return to the embassy and withdraw from his safe the small attaché case a courier had brought from Paris, and checked again that the money therein was complete and correct. He also arranged with the embassy’s security staff for a car and its driver for the trip to Müggelheim – though his previous dealings with Blofeld had never suggested it, with an exchange this important, the potential for treachery could not be discounted. Mathis then waited until it was time to depart.
When his car pulled up in front of the non-descript chemist’s shop in a backwater suburb Mathis double checked the address to assure he was in the correct place. He told the driver to wait, and then exited the car and entered the shop.
“Good evening mein Herr. Please go right up, you are expected.”
The words of the chemist behind the counter were not what Mathis expected to hear from the henchman of a master spy, but he ascended the stairs at the back of the shop and found himself face-to-face with a large man who blocked his way. From within an open door he heard a voice.
“Please show Monsieur Mathis in Viktor, I am expecting him.”
The man stood aside and Mathis walked towards the sound of Blofeld’s voice. When he entered he saw Blofeld seated at a desk, upon which sat the Italian cipher machine and its operating manual. For a moment Mathis was speechless, and Blofeld stood.
“Please examine the goods,” and he stood aside. Mathis took his place at the desk and gingerly ran his fingers over the machine, and then the manual.
“Are you satisfied?”
Mathis took a deep breath and smiled. “Yes.”
“Then if you do not object, may I examine the case you brought with you?”
“Of course.” Mathis handed over the attaché case. Blofeld opened it, took a quick stock of its contents, and then re-closed it. “All seems to be in order. If you have no objections Monsieur Mathis, I shall leave you to your new toy.”
Mathis did not immediately respond, paying more attention to the cipher machine and its potential value to France. Moments later he looked up, and Blofeld was gone, together with the man he addressed as Viktor. Mathis packed up the machine and its manual and returned to the shop downstairs – and found the man who had been behind the counter also gone. His driver though was still outside in the embassy car, and Mathis got in, hugging his prize close.