X

Night of Terror by Desmond Bagley

appendix had already been removed. He wouldn’t stick his neck out by

signing a certificate that could be so easily disproved – no one is as

incompetent as that.” “Aye. If he wanted to cover up he’d put down

the cause of death as fever or something like that- something you

couldn’t prove one way or another. But we don’t know what he put on

the certificate.”

“We’ll soon find out. They sent it to Helen. And I want to find Kane

more than ever – I want to nail that lying bastard.”

“We’ll do our best,” said Geordie. He didn’t sound too hopeful.

Chapter Two

I had no more dreams that night, but slept heavily and late. It was

Geordie who woke me by shaking my shoulder – and incidentally hurting

my arm once again. I groaned and turned away, but he persisted until I

opened my eyes. “You’re wanted on the phone,” he said. “It’s the

Institute.” I put on my dressing gown and was still thick-headed with

sleep when I lifted the receiver. It was young Simms. “Dr, Trevelyan,

I’ve taken over your old office while you’re away and you’ve left

something behind. I don’t know if it’s valuable or if you want it at

all I mumbled, “What is it?” “A manganese nodule.” I was jolted wide

awake. “Where did you find it?” “I didn’t. One of the cleaners found

it under your desk and gave it to me. What should I do with it?”

“Stick tight to it. I’ll pick it up this morning. It’s got some

relation to work I’m engaged on. Thanks for calling.” I turned to

Geordie. “All is not lost,” I said, ‘we’ve got a nodule. You dropped

some on the floor of my office, remember, and you left one under the

desk.” “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. All along you’ve been

insisting that the damn things are worthless.

What’s so exciting about this one?” I said, “There are too many

mysteries connected with this

particular lot to suit me. I’m going to take a closer look at this

one.” As I breakfasted on a cigarette and a cup of strong coffee I

rang

Helen and asked her to read out Mark’s death certificate.

It was in French, of course, and she had some difficulties over the

hand-written parts but we got it sorted out. I put down the phone and

said to Geordie, “Now I want to talk to that doctor as well as Kane.”

I felt full of anger and frustration.

“What was the cause of death?” “Peritonitus following an

appendectomy.

And that’s impossible. The doctor’s name is Hans Schouten. It was

signed in Tanakabu, in the Tuamotus.” “He’s a hell of a long way from

here.” “But Kane isn’t. Do your damndest to find him, Geordie.”

Geordie sighed. “I’ll do my best, but this is a bloody big city, and

no one but you and Helen can identify him for sure.” I dressed and

drove down to the Institute, retrieved the nodule from Simnis and then

went down to the laboratories I was going to analyse’this lump of rock

down to the last trace elements. First I photographed it in colour

from several angles and took a casting of it in latex – that took care

of the external record. Then I cut it in half with a diamond saw. Not

entirely unexpectedly, in the centre was the white bone of a shark’s

tooth, also neatly cut in two.

One of the pieces I put in the rock mill and, while it was being ground

to the consistency of fine flour, I polished and etched the flat

surface of the other piece. Then the real work began. By early

afternoon everything was well under way and luckily I had had the place

almost to myself the whole time, but then Jarvis walked in – He was

surprised to see me.

“You’re supposed to be on leave, Mike. What’s all this?” He looked at

the set-up on the bench. I had no worries about that – I could have

been analysing anything, and the identifiable half-rock was out of

sight. I said lightly, “Oh, just some homework I promised I’d do when

I had the chance.” He looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

“What have you been up to, young feller? Saw something about you in

yesterday’s press, didn’t I? And I had a chap in from Scotland Yard

asking questions about you – and about manganese nodules. And he said

you’d killed someone?”

“I had a burglary two nights ago and knocked a chap off the fire

escape,” I said. I hadn’t seen the papers myself and it hadn’t

occurred to me that the story would be public. From Simms’ lack of

reaction, however, it seemed not to be exactly front-page news.

“MMm’, said Jarvis. “Very unfortunate. Place is getting like

Chicago.

Nasty for you. But what’s it got to do with nodules?” “A couple were

nicked from my place, with other stuff. I told him they weren’t of

much value.” “I made that plain to the Inspector,”growled Jarvis.

“And I take it he’s now convinced that your burglars were surprised and

took the first things that came to hand. I gave you a reasonable

character, by the way.” I had my doubts about the Yard’s acceptance of

the front story. The Inspector had struck me as being full “of deep

suspicions.

“Well, my boy, I’ll leave you to it. Anything interesting?, He cast an

inquisitive glance at the bench.

I smiled. “I don’t know yet.” He nodded. “That’s the way it is,”he

said rather vaguely and wandered out. I looked at the bench and

wondered if I was wasting my time. My own knowledge, backed by that of

an expert like Jarvis, told me that this was just an ordinary Pacific

nodule and nothing out of the ordinary. Still, I had gone so far, I

might as well carry on. I left the glassware to bubble on its own for

a while and went to take photomicrographs of the etched surface of the

half-nodule.

I was busy for another couple of hours and having to use my bad arm

didn’t help. Normally I would have used the services of a laboratory

technician but this was one job I wanted to do myself. And it was

fortunate that I had taken that precaution because what I finally found

astounded me – I looked incredulously at the table of figures that was

emerging, breathing heavily with excitement and with my mind full of

conflicting conjectures.

Then I became even busier, carefully dismantling the glassware and

meticulously washing every piece. I wanted no evidence left of what

I’d been up to. That done, I phoned the flat.

Geordie answered. “Where the devil have you been?” he demanded.

“We’ve had the cops, the press, the insurance people – the lot.”

“Those are the last people I want to be bothered with right now.

Is everything clear now?” “Aye.”

“Good. I don’t suppose you found Kane.”

“You suppose rightly. If you’re so suspicious of him why don’t you

take what you’ve got to the police? They can do a better job of

finding him than I can.” “I don’t want to do that right now. I’m

coming home, Geordie. I’ve got something to tell you.” “Have you

eaten, boy?” I suddenry realized that I hadn’t eaten a mouthful all

day.

I felt very hungry. “I’ve been too busy,” I said hopefully.

“I thought so. I’ll tell you what; I’ll cook up something in this

kitchen of yours -one of my slurngullions – Then we won’t have to go

out and maybe get tagged by one of the newspaper blokes.” “Thanks.

That’ll be fine.” On the way home I bought some newspapers and found

that the story had already sunk with no trace. A local shop produced

me a copy of the previous day’s press and the story was a short one,

buried in the body of the paper, lacking in detail and with no mention

of what had been stolen, which suited me very well. I didn’t want to

be questioned on anything concerning manganese nodules. I’m not

naturally a good liar.

When I entered the flat I found Geordie busy in the kitchen surrounded

by a mouth-watering aroma, and a remarkably well cleaned up living

room. I made a mental note never to have glass-fronted bookshelves

again – I didn’t much like them anyway. Geordie called out, “It’ll be

ready in about an hour, so you can get your news off your chest before

we eat.

I’ll be out in two ticks.” I went to the cabinet for the whisky bottle

and two glasses, then picked my old school atlas off the bookshelf.

Ink-blotted and politically out-of-date, as it was, it would still suit

my purpose. I put it on the table and turned to the pages which showed

the Pacific.

Geordie came out of the kitchen and I said, “Sit here. I want to tell

Page: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71

Categories: Desmond Bagley
curiosity: