A plump gentleman in a black Homburg strode through the afternoon idlers in St. James's Park to the lake. Two wires were taped inconspicuously to the package in his arms; it had a harsh, germicidal smell.
At the lake the gentleman stepped into a little boat and was rowed over to the island in its center. Ducks quacked and splattered indignantly as he stepped ashore, entered a small concrete hut, carefully closed the steel door behind him. A few minutes later he emerged hatless, took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his brow. Dr. Hugh Watts, Chief Inspector of Explosives...
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