The cache is not at the posted coordinates.
One does not entrust sensitive materials to chance. The Postman, a cautious and deliberate fellow, knows this. When a parcel is of true importance — the sort that ought not fall into idle hands or wandering eyes — he seals it. Not once. Not twice. But with a certain persistence born of long service and hard lessons. This cache is one such parcel.
You will find nothing flashy here. The container is unassuming, but built with care — light in the hand but reluctant to yield. Within it lies a puzzle of sorts. Mechanical - possibly. Inert - not quite. Yet maddening. It will not come open easily. It requires no tools, it never has.
The Postman has ensured that only a prepared mind and a determined hand will find success. You will require a measure of logic, insight, patience, and, bluntly, more force than you might think appropriate. Brute strength alone will not suffice — but nor will delicacy. There is a balance to be struck.
Inside, you will find all that is necessary:
– The logsheet
– The Postman's personal stamp (not for trade)
– A block of wood
– And perhaps the faint echo of a man who trusted the system, until he didn’t.
Should you succeed in opening it, take a moment to admire the ingenuity. Sign the log and use the Postman's Stamp.
(Please provide a picture of your use of the stamp as evidence of your visit)
But remember this: reassembling the device — resealing it — may be the harder task.
Close it as you found it. Properly. Securely. Quietly.
That is the way of things.
– G.S.
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le Carre's nickname of the agency