could get you half a dozen good chaps, all trained fighters and some of
them seamen. I’ve got a couple anyway that I’d keep on for this
trip.”
I had a dawning suspicion of what was in Geordie’s mind.
“Hold on – what’s the idea?” He said, “I’d like to see the bunch of
thugs who’d stand up against some of your dad’s old mob. They may be
getting older, but they’re not that old and they’re trained
commandoes.
They’re not all settled down and married, you know.” “What do you
think you’re doing – setting up a private army?” “Might not be a bad
idea,” he said. “If the other night is a sample of what to expect we
might need a bloody army.” I sighed. “All right, Sergeant Wilkins.
But no one who’s married or has other responsibilities, and you’d
better hold your hand until we get Campbell tied up. We can’t do
anything without money.” “Ah yes, the money,” said Geordie, and looked
very sad.
The following morning, quite early, I had a visit from the Inspector
and one of his men. Geordie was already out and I was impatient to
begin my search for Kane, but tried not to show it. The Inspector was
cagey and suspicious, but very casual. I think his trouble was that he
didn’t really know what to be suspicious of.
He asked, “Know anyone in South America?” “Not off hand. No, I
don’t,”I said.
“The man you killed may have been a South American. His clothes were
labelled from Lima, Rio and Montevideo. He could be from almost
anywhere except Brazil.” “I think that answers one question. I
couldn’t place the accent. What was his name?” The Inspector shook
his head. “That we don’t know, Mr Trevelyan. Or anything else about
him, yet. Are you quite sure you don’t know any South Americans?”
“Positive.” He changed tack. “Wonderful thing, this science; I’ve
found out everything there is to know about manganese nodules.” I said
dryly, ‘then you know more than I do – they’re not really my line. Did
you find it interesting?” He smiled sourly. “Not very – they’re about
as valuable as road gravel. Are you sure there wasn’t anything else in
that suitcase that might have been of value?” “Inspector, it was just
junk. The kind of stuff that anyone might carry in a case, apart from
the nodules, that is.” “Looks as though Mr Wilkins might have been
right, after all. You surprised the burglars before they could pinch
anything else.” I didn’t fall for that one – the Inspector didn’t for
one moment believe it was an ordinary break-in. I said noncommittally
“I think you’re right.” “The inquest will be next Wednesday,” he
said.
“You’ll get an official notification, both of you.” “I’ll be there.”
Then they were gone and I thought about South
America.
That was nearer the Pacific than Spain, but apart from that it made no
particular sense to me. And then, belatedly, I thought of Mark’s
connection with Jonathan Campbell, and Campbell’s reputed connection
with some South American mining venture, and I had something else to
chew on. But it still made no sense, and for the time being I gave
up.
Finding a rich Canadian in London’s millions was a damn sight easier
than finding a poor Australian. The rich are circumscribed in their
travelling. The Institute gave me the address of the conference
centre, and they gave me the address of the hotel Campbell was staying
at, and I had him at the third phone call. Campbell was blunt and curt
to the point of rudeness. Yes, he could give me half an hour of his
time at eleven that morning – it was already nine-thirty. his tone
indicated that if he thought I was wasting his time I’d be kicked out
in the first two minutes. The telephone conversation lasted only that
long.
At eleven I was at the Dorchester and was shown up to Campbell’s
suite.
He opened the door himself. “Trevelyan?” “Yes, sir.” “Come in.” He
led the way into a room once a luxury living-room but now fitted out as
a temporary office, complete with desk, files and secretary; he sent
her out and seated himself behind the desk, gesturing me to sit
opposite.
He was a broad, stocky man of about sixty with a square, tanned face
lined with experience. Somebody once said that after forty a man is
responsible for his own face; if that’s so then Campbell had had a lot
of responsibility in his time. His eyes were a frosty blue and his
hair iron grey and grizzled. His clothes were expensive and only the
slightest accent indicated his transatlantic origin.
I decided that attack was the best policy. I produced the half-nodule
and put it on his blotting pad. “That assays at ten percent cobalt,” I
said without preamble. He picked it up and looked at it carefully,
masking any curiosity. “Where did it come from?” “The bottom of the
Pacific.” He looked up and stared at me, then said, “Are you any
relation of the Mark Trevelyan who worked for me a while back?”
“He was my brother.” “Was?” “He’s dead.” Campbell frowned. “When
and where did he die?” “About four months ago – in the Pacific.”
“Sorry to hear it,” he said but perfunctorily. “A good scientist.” I
detected the careful note in his voice, and thought that here was
someone else who had seen through Mark, or had had some example of how
my brother went about his affairs. I wondered if it was a business
problem, or if it had had anything to do with his daughter’s
relationship with Mark.
I couldn’t assess whether it was going to make things harder or easier
for me.
He carried on looking at me rather than at the specimen.
“Trevelyan – I’ve heard the name more recently. Oh yes!”He turned and
produced a tabloid newspaper from a shelf and shook it out. “Are you
the Trevelyan mentioned here? The one who killed a man defending his
home? An Englishman’s castle and all that stuff ?” I caught a glimpse
of the headline: SCIENTIS?” KILLS BURGLAR. Quite mild, considering
the paper. I nodded.
“That’s right.” He pursed his lips and put aside the paper, and then
came back to business. “This is a manganese nodule. There are
billions of them lying on the bottom of the Pacific. There are quite a
few in the Atlantic too.” “Not many there,”I said.”And the quality’s
poor. Too much sedimentation.” “True.” He tossed the stone and
caught it. “The highest cobalt assay so far is a fraction over 2
percent.
That one came from the central Pacific. Where did this one come
from?”
I looked at him blankly and shook my head. He smiled suddenly and it
transformed his face – he had a very charming smile. “All right, I
tried,” he said. “You’d be surprised how often it works. Do you know
why I am able to reel off facts about manganese nodules?” “I was
wondering.” “Your brother told me,” he said. “He wanted me to fit an
expedition a couple of years back. I must say I was tempted “Why
didn’t you?” He hesitated, then said, “I lost a packet in South
America.
It caught me off balance and until I reorganized I didn’t have any
fluid capital. About that time your brother left my company, and he
hadn’t left me enough to go on by myself.” “I hope you’re better
placed now,” I said dryly. “Because that’s why I’ve come to you – now
it’s my turn to ask you to fund an expedition.” “So I gathered,” he
said, equally dryly. He touched the nodule. “I must say you brought
more than your brother did.
He talked a good story but he never showed any concrete evidence.
You say this assayed at ten percent cobalt?” assayed it myself
yesterday afternoon – the other half, that is.” “Mind if I have this
assayed independently?” “Not at all,” I said equably.
He laughed, showing his charm again. “All right, Trevelyan, I won’t
need to. I’m convinced of this anyway.” “I’d prefer it if you did,” I
said. “I could do with corroboration. But I must tell you that what
you’ve got in your hand is all the evidence I have to show.”
His hand clenched around the nodule. “Now you do begin to interest
me.
I think you have a story, Mr Trevelyan. Why don’t you tell it and quit
beating around the bush?” I had already decided that if we were to
work together at all I mi hold nothing back. It was only moderately
risky. So I told him everthing, and when I’d finished we were well
past my original half hour. He listened in absolute silence until I
was done and then said, “Now let’s see if I’ve got all this straight.
One, your brother died out in the Pacific; two, a man called Nelson