Chapter 9
When Marmion arrived at the buildingwhich was painted a really awful murky dark greenwhere Matthew Luzon had set up his office, she found only his five minions, all industriously tapping out commands while their screens showed curves and graphs and columns of figures. She didn’t approve of statistics of any kind: they only proved what the statistician wished them to. Credit reports and prospectuses were, of course, in an entirely different category.
They had the good manners to stand when she entered the room, so she smiled at them while she made a show of peering about.
“I don’t see Dr. Luzon, and I did so wish to have a word with him,” she said, beaming at the nearest of the lot. “You are …” She struggled to remember Sally’s tips on how to distinguish them one from another. “Ivan, aren’t you?”
“Yes’m.”
“And where is Dr. Luzon?” Marmion noted the absence of oneBraddock Makemand began to realize she might have underestimated Matthew’s devious zealotry. How embarrassing. “Has he gone off into the wilds on adventure and left you here, slogging away at the tedious details?”
One after another of the physically fit young men cleared their throats.
“Ah, I see that he has, and it’s very much too bad of him, as I’d arranged for Captain O’Shay to take all of us to that somysterious cave for an on-site investigation. Matthew’s so keen to do on-sites,” she put in, managing a little move of disappointment, “and this is one of the most important ones, so Whittaker Fiske assured me.” She paused to consider her disappointment. Then, brightly, she smiled around at them. “But that doesn’t mean that you can’t come with me, since it’s so hard to get a big enough copter to take us all. In fact, just us will take up all the room. So, come on, now. Save those important programs, laddie bucks, grab your anoraks and let’s be off …” When another of themah, yes, the very blond one was Hansstarted to object, she said, “Now, now, I won’t hear any excuses from you, Hans. This is as important as all those figures, because it’s subjective, not objective, and it will certainly show the commission how diligent you are in examining every facet of this investigation.”
Sally and Millard had deftly slipped in behind her and were handing out outer wear to the men, who were so accustomed to obeying authority that they automatically complied. They were out the door and in the personnel transport and on their bumping way across to the big copter before they knew what had happened.
Rick O’Shay hurried them aboard, directing the seating in order to balance the load. “Real glad you fellows could make the time for this side trip, because you don’t see much from a shuttle. Blink your eyes and you’re past the interesting points. Miz Algemeine, you’re up front … Hey, where’s Dr. Luzon? Rick looked around, surprise and disappointment on his face. I thought he was the one wanted so much to come.”
Marmion could have kissed the young manhe was very attractive, anywaybecause Ivan and Hans were obviously having second thoughts about the advisability of this sojourn.
“Hell’s bells.” Rick shook his head, a lugubrious expression on his face. Then he brightened up and took a deep breath. “Well, you guys can give him a full report on what he’s missing. That’s it, now buckle up.”
The big copter swung up and headed north by east, barely troubled by the turbulence.
Sally was wedged between Hans and Marcel, with Millard at the window and facing Ivan, George, Jack, and Seamus Rourke, whom Marmion had introduced as their expedition guide. Seamus had been Clodagh’s suggestion. “He’s as good, bar Sean or myself, as you’d want or need,” Clodagh had assured her.
“You’ve often been to this cave site, Mr. Rourke?” Sally asked conversationally when she saw the first hint of “should we really be here?” anxiety on Jack’s well-tanned, handsome face. With Marmion out of earshot in the front, Sally felt responsible for keeping things running smoothly in back.
“Not this particular one, Miz Sally,” Seamus said affably, twiddling his thumbs: sitting down, doing nothing while traveling a long distance was new to him. “Been in most on the east coast, whenever the folk there invite us to a latchkay. We exchange hospitality like, us in Kilcoole and them on the coast, once a year. Good things, latchkays,” he went on when he saw her look of inquiry. “Gets folks from nearby and as far away as the weather permits figurin’ out how to solve any problems that’ve come up since the last one. And we get some fine singing done. Too bad you weren’t all here for the last one we had. Fine songs from Major Maddock and young Diego. Kind of songs that ease the heart and mellow the soul. Maybe we could fix it that we have another one, sort of to welcome you all to Petaybee,” he added. “What with the early thaw, we couldn’t’ve planned another short of June, but I don’t see why we can’t show you lads a bit of Petaybean hospitality while you’re here. You do like dancing, don’t you?” He asked that with such skepticism that one of Luzon’s men had to reply.