whom you have never heard of sent you a case which contained notebooks
and nodule samples; three, Kane shows up and pitches what you think is
a cock-and-bull yarn; four, the suitcase is stolen by presumed South
Americans with additional violence including one killing; five, you
retain one nodule, analyse it and find a fantastic percentage of
cobalt; and six, you also retain a diary of your brother’s which you
can’t even read.” He looked at me for a long time and then said
gently, “And on the basis of this you want me to invest maybe a million
dollars.” I got out of my chair.
“Sorry to have wasted your time, Mr Campbell.” “Sit down, you damned
fool. Don’t give up without a fight. I haven’t said I won’t invest,
have I?” He saw the look on my face and added, “And I haven’t yet said
I will, either. Have you got that diary here?” Wordlessly I took it
from my breast pocket and handed it over the desk. He flicked it open
and turned rapidly from page to page. “Who taught your brother to
write shorthand?” he asked disgustedly. “St Vitus?” “Basically it’s
Pitman’s,” I said. “But Mark adapted it.” I could have gone on to say
that Mark had always been secretive, never liking anyone to know what
he was doing.
But I kept my mouth shut.
Campbell tossed the diary aside. “Maybe we can get something out of it
somehow – maybe a cipher expert can sort it out.” He turned in his
swivel chair and looked out of the window towards Hyde Park, and there
was a long silence until he spoke again.
“You know what really interested me in this improbable story of
yours?”
“No, I don’t.” “Those South Americans,” he said unexpectedly.
“South America has been unlucky for me, you know. I lost nearly ten
million down there. That’s when Mark’s expedition went down the drain,
along with a lot of other things. And now Mark has come back – in a
sense and more South Americans are involved. What do you make of
that?”
“Not a thing,” I said.
“I don’t believe in coincidence. Not when it happens like this.
What I do have to consider lies outside your domain, perhaps – the
complications of international law regarding mining, especially
offshore, undersea stuff. International relations -so I have to know
more about the areas you want to research. Financing. Distribution.
Markets.” I was a little taken aback. Perhaps I was too much of the
research scientist – the hard facts of commercial dealing had hardly
occurred to me. But on reflection I could hear no note of doubt or
dismay in Campbell’s voice, only the sound of a man mulling over the
forthcoming ramifications of the deal he was being offered – and liking
it. There was undoubtedly the faint note of challenge in his attitude,
and this encouraged me. I guessed that he, like Geordie’s old pal
Ian
Lewis, may be finding life a little boring at present and was attracted
by the novelty of my proposition.
He poked the nodule with his finger. “There are two things necessary
for industrial civilization cheap power and cheap steel.
What’s the iron oxide content of this?” “Thirty-two percent by
weight.”
“That does it. The cobalt will make it economically feasible and the
result is a cheap high-grade iron ore, a hell of a lot of manganese,
plus some copper, vanadium and anything else we can pick up. Cheap
metals, billions of dollars’ worth and cheaper than anyone else can
produce. It can be tied into one neat, strong package – but it needs
careful handling. And above all it needs secrecy.” “I know. I’ve
already been stalling off a police inspector who thinks there’s more to
the burglary than meets the eye.” Campbell appeared satisfied.
“Good.
You’ve got the point.” “Then you’re willing to finance an
expedition?”
I asked. It was almost too easy, I thought, and I was right.
“I don’t know yet. I want to make some investigations of my own,
enquiries which I can make and you can’t. And maybe I can find Kane
for you. Besides, you ‘ may not be in a position to undertake anything
for some time – you killed a man, remember.” His smile this time. was
more grim than charming. “Not that I blame you for it – I’ve killed
men myself – but let’s wait for your inquest before deciding
anything.”
It was six days to the inquest, the longest six days I’ve spent in my
life. To fill in the time I got down to writing the paper that I was
supposed to turn out. It wasn’t a very good paper as it happened;
I had too much else on my mind to concentrate really well.
By the end of the week Geordie still hadn’t found Kane, though he’d got
a lot of other things moving. “It’s hopeless,” he said to me.
“A needle in a haystack would be easier – this is like trying to find
one particular wisp of hay.” “He may not be in London at all.” A
truism which didn’t help. But on the morning of the inquest Kane was
found or rather, he found me.
He called at the flat just as I was leaving for the court Geordie as
usual was out ahead of me and would meet me there. Kane was looking a
little the worse for wear with bloodshot eyes and a greying stubble on
his cheeks. He coughed raspingly and said, “Sorry to trouble you, Mr
Trevelyan, but you did say I was to keep in touch.” I looked at him in
astonishment and choked back the questions that were on the tip of my
tongue. I invited him inside and did a bit of fast thinking as I
poured him a cup of coffee. Geordie and Campbell had as much at stake
in this as I had, and besides I wanted witnesses when I questioned
Kane.
I decided to play it softly, though I could hardly bear to speak to him
without losing my control.
I made myself smile pleasantly at him. “Had enough of England, Mr
Kane?” .
“It ‘ud be a nice country if it wasn’t for your bleeding weather.
We could do with some of this rain back in Queensland, my word.” “But
you’ve enjoyed your stay?” “I’ve had a bonzer time,” he said. “But my
stay’s over, Mr Trevelyan. I got to gambling again. I’ll never
learn.” “I’m sorry to hear that,” I said.
He looked at me hopefully. “Mr Trevelyan, you said you might be able
to arrange a passage for me. I wondered. . .
“Do you have to get back to the Pacific immediately?” For some reason
that didn’t please him. “Not specially, no.” But I’ve got no
boodle.
If I had some cash or a job I’d like to stay around a bit. I thought
maybe you could. . ..”.
I said, “I have a friend who has a yacht which he’s fitting out.
He and I hope to get in some sailing together, and I think he needs
crew. How would that suit you?” He took the bait eagerly. “That ‘ud
be just fine, Mr Trevelyan!” I put an opened writing pad in front of
him, trying to hold back my own eagerness. “Write down the name of
wherever you’re staying so that I can get the owner to contact you,” I
said.
“He’ll want to interview you but I’ll make it all right with him. And
I’ll let you have something ahead of your pay, to cover your rooming
costs. How’s that?” He wrote an address down. “I’ll do that.
Thanks a whole lot, Mr Trevelyan.” “That’s all right,” I said
generously.
“You’ve earned it.” I gave him a head start and then left for the
court hearing.
The encounter had been good for me, giving me something else to think
about and making a vital connection in my story for Campbell. I had no
time to tell Geordie about it, however, but savoured telling him
afterwards.
The inquest was simple and straightforward. A doctor gave evidence of
death, then I went on the stand, followed immediately by Geordie. We
stuck to straight facts and didn’t elaborate but I noticed that Geordie
kept his bandaged finger prominently in view of the-coroner. My
neighbour spoke and then the police had their turn.
As Geordie was giving evidence I glanced round the courtroom and saw
Campbell sitting at the back. He nodded to me, then turned his
attention to the proceedings.
The Inspector made an appearance and confirmed that he had found a gun,
a Beretta automatic pistol, hanging from the right-hand coat pocket of
the deceased. The foresight was caught in the torn lining.
I felt a lot better after this because it had-been one of the points I
had made myself. I looked the coroner straight in the eye and he
didn’t avoid my glance – a good sign. The lack of identity of the dead