The Snow Tiger / Night of Error Read online

  ‘The forces are rallying. It’s Cousin Francis. Now where the devil did he spring from?’

  A youngish man in a business suit stepped in front of them. ‘Morning, Ian,’ he said, abruptly and unsmilingly.

  ‘Good morning, Frank,’ said Ballard. ‘Miss Peterson, this is my cousin, Frank Ballard.’

  Frank Ballard gave her a curt nod. ‘I want to talk to you, Ian.’

  ‘Sure. We’re just going to have drinks by the pool. Join us.’

  Frank shook his head. ‘In private.’

  ‘All right. After lunch, then.’

  ‘No, I haven’t the time. I’m catching a plane back to Sydney almost immediately. It’ll have to be now.’

  ‘Don’t mind me,’ said Liz. ‘I’ll wait for you by the pool. Come on, Victor.’ She walked away without waiting for an answer.

  Frank said, ‘What about your room?’

  ‘All right.’ Ballard led the way. They walked in silence until they reached the room. As he closed the door Ballard said, ‘What brings you from Australia, Frank?’

  Frank swung around. ‘You bloody well know what brings me. Why the hell did you put old Crowell through the hoops the way you did yesterday? He was on the phone to me, crying on my shoulder long distance.’

  Ian smiled. ‘Just trying to elicit a bit of truth.’

  There was no answering smile from Frank. ‘Now look here, Ian. You’re getting the company into a right mess. A fine bloody managing director you are.’

  ‘Aren’t you forgetting that Crowell suspended me from duty? Or is what you’ve just said an offer of the job back?’

  ‘You flaming idiot! The suspension was only until the Inquiry was over. If you’d have used your brains and kept quiet everything would have been all right, and you’d be back in the saddle next week. As it is, I’m not so sure. You’ve been throwing so much mud at the company that I’m not sure you’re fit for the position.’

  Ian sat on the bed. ‘If I’d kept quiet I’d be a dead duck, and you know it. Between the company and the Petersons I wouldn’t stand a chance. Did you really think I’d stand still and let you make a patsy out of me?’

  ‘This is a Ballard company,’ said Frank furiously. ‘We take care of our own. Have you no family feeling?’

  ‘You’d take care of me like a fox takes care of a rabbit,’ snapped Ian.

  ‘If that’s what you think, I’m sorry.’ Frank’s finger shot out. ‘When the inquiry starts again on Monday you’d better keep quiet. No more appeals to the grandstand like those you’ve been making. If you promise to do that then maybe there’ll still be a job for you in the Group. I doubt if I’ll be able to swing the managing directorship of Hukahoronui – my old man’s hopping mad – but I still think I can guarantee some kind of job.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Ian ironically. ‘But I’m underwhelmed by your generosity. You know what I think of the Group – I’ve never made a secret of it.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake!’ burst out Frank. ‘You know how big we are. We just have to pass the word around and you’ll never get a job in mining again. Look, you don’t even have to do anything – just stop asking damn fool questions in public.’

  Ian stood up. ‘Don’t push me, Frank,’ he warned.

  ‘I haven’t even started yet. For God’s sake, be reasonable, Ian. Do you know how much the share price of the company has dropped since yesterday? All this adverse publicity is having an effect even in London. We’re dropping money fast.’

  ‘I bleed for you.’

  ‘You know we’re going to float a new issue of Hukahoronui shares. What chance do you think we’ll have if you continue to hold up the chairman of the board as a bloody fool?’

  ‘The foolishness of Crowell is none of my doing – he’s a self-made idiot. That’s why you have him there – because he’ll jump when he’s told. You ought to be getting rid of Crowell, not me.’

  ‘You’re impossible,’ said Frank disgustedly. ‘We’re not getting rid of you.’

  ‘No,’ agreed Ian. ‘I’m leaving under my own power, and in my own way. I don’t take easily to blackmail, Frank, and the way you’re going you’re likely to cook your own goose.’

  Frank looked up and said sharply, ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Have you considered the composition of the Commission of Inquiry? There’s Harrison, the chairman, and his two assessors, both experts in their fields. Rolandson knows about snow, and French is from the Department of Mines. He hasn’t said much yet.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So any more pressure from you and I’ll start asking questions about conditions in that mine, and by the time I’m through French will write a report that’ll curl your hair – a report that the shareholders won’t like at all. Then you’ll see something really happen to the share price.’

  ‘You’re being really hard-nosed about this, aren’t you? Why, Ian?’

  ‘Do you have to ask after what you’ve been doing? I don’t like being manipulated, Frank. I don’t like being pushed around. I’m no Crowell. And another thing: the day before I was fired – and let’s give it the right name, Frank; none of this bull about suspension – I saw the result of the latest assay. Rich pickings, Frank, my boy; very rich pickings. But can you tell me why those results haven’t been given to the shareholders?’

  ‘That’s none of your bloody business.’

  ‘It might be if I buy some shares. Not that I will, of course. That mine is going to make someone a fortune, but the way you’ll set it up I don’t think the ordinary shareholders will see much of it.’

  ‘Nobody will make anything if you get on your hind legs and start asking damn fool questions about avalanche defences,’ said Frank sourly. ‘Good God, do you know how much it will cost us if this bloody Commission goes the wrong way?’

  Ian stared at him. ‘What do you mean – the wrong way? Were you thinking of not putting in avalanche defences?’

  ‘Hell, there’s only an avalanche every thirty years or so. By the time the next one comes the mine will be worked out.’

  Ian took a deep breath. ‘You damned fool! That was when the trees were still on the west slope. Now they’re gone there’s likely to be a fall in any period of heavy snow.’

  ‘All right.’ Frank flapped his hand impatiently. ‘We’ll re-afforest the slope. That’ll cost less than the snow rakes your friend McGill wants to have.’

  ‘Frank, do you know how long it takes for a tree to grow? I thought you lot were bad enough but now I know the depth of your greed.’ Ballard’s voice was hard. ‘And I suggest we bring this conversation to a sudden halt.’ He crossed to the door and threw it open.

  Frank hesitated. ‘Think again, Ian.’

  Ian jerked his head. ‘Out!’

  Frank walked forward. ‘You’ll regret it.’

  ‘How’s Uncle Steve?’

  ‘He’s not going to like the answer I take back to Sydney.’

  ‘He should have come himself and not sent a half-wit to do his dirty work. He’s too intelligent to think threats would have any effect – he’d have tried a bribe, if I know him. Tell him from me that that wouldn’t have worked, either. Maybe you’ll be able to keep a whole skin that way.’

  Frank paused outside the door, and turned. ‘You’re finished, Ian. I hope you know that.’

  Ian closed the door in his face.

  As he drove Liz back to the hospital to pick up her car he said, ‘Sorry about the gloomy lunch, Liz. I have a few things on my mind.’

  ‘It was a bit glum,’ she agreed. ‘What’s the matter? Trouble with the family? You were all right until you saw your cousin.’

  He did not answer immediately but pulled the car off the road and parked by the kerb. He turned to face her, and said, ‘We both seem to have trouble that way. When were you thinking of going to England, Liz?’

  ‘I haven’t thought that far ahead.’

  ‘I’ll be going as soon as the inquiry is over. Why don’t you come with me?’

  ‘My God!
’ she said. ‘Charlie would have kittens. Is this by way of being a proposal, Ian?’ She smiled. ‘Or do I come as your mistress?’

  ‘That’s up to you. You can take it either way.’

  Liz laughed. ‘Shakespeare didn’t write this script. I know we’re like the Montagues and Capulets, but Romeo never made an offer like that.’ She put her hand on his. ‘I like you, Ian, but I’m not sure I love you.’

  ‘That’s the problem,’ he said. ‘We haven’t known each other long enough. Just two or three days at Huka, rudely interrupted by a disaster, and a week here. Love doesn’t flourish under those conditions, especially when overlooked by brother Charlie.’

  ‘Don’t you believe in love at first sight?’

  ‘I do,’ said Ballard. ‘Evidently you don’t. It happened to me at the dance on the night everything started. Look, Liz: when I get on that plane I won’t be coming back to New Zealand. I’d hate it like hell if I never saw you again. Maybe you don’t love me, but it would be nice if you gave it a fighting chance.’

  ‘Propinquity!’ she said. ‘A lovely word. Do you think it works?’

  ‘What have you got to lose?’

  She looked pensively through the windscreen, staring at nothing. Presently she said, ‘If I do go to England with you – and I’m not saying right now that I will – but if I do there’ll be no strings. I’m my own woman, Ian; a very private person. That’s something Charlie can never understand. So if I come it will be my choice, and if after a while I leave you, it will be my choice again. Do you understand?’

  He nodded. ‘I understand.’

  ‘And let me tell you something else, just to clear up something which may have been on your mind. Eric is against the Ballards on principle – it’s not just you. But with Charlie it definitely is you. Now, I was only two when Alec died; I never knew him – not to remember. And you were twelve then, and now you’re thirty-five. A person at twelve and a person at thirty-five are two different people, not to be confused with each other as Charlie does. I don’t know the rights and wrongs of Alec’s death – and I don’t care. I’ll be going to England with a man, not a boy.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Ballard. ‘Thanks, Liz.’

  ‘Not that I’ve said I’m going with you yet,’ she warned. ‘I’ll have to think about it. As to the question you asked – what have I got to lose?’ She patted his knee. ‘The answer, my dear Ian, is my virginity!’

  SEVENTEEN

  Ballard dropped Liz at the hospital and went on to Deep Freeze Headquarters. He did not find McGill at the office but finally ran him down at the Officers’ Club where he was talking shop. Ballard said, ‘I thought I’d pick you up first. Old Stenning will have travelled a long way and he’ll be tired, so I thought I wouldn’t keep him waiting around.’

  ‘Sure,’ said McGill. ‘I’ll come right along. When is he due in?’

  ‘In fifteen minutes, if the plane’s on time.’

  They drove to Harewood Airport, two minutes away, and stood chatting on the concourse while they waited. McGill said, ‘I’ve never met a millionaire’s lawyer. Will you recognize Stenning when you see him?’

  Ballard nodded. ‘He’s a tall, thin chap with white hair. Looks a bit like Bertrand Russell.’

  The aircraft was on time and, as the passengers streamed through the terminal, Ballard said, ‘There he is,’ and McGill saw a tall, old man with the face of an ascetic. Ballard stepped forward. ‘Good afternoon, Mr Stenning.’ They shook hands. ‘This is Mike McGill, a friend. He’s come to carry the suitcases. I don’t think they’ll be long in coming.’

  Stenning smiled. ‘Are you the Dr McGill who has been giving evidence at the Inquiry?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘If you’re carrying suitcases you’ve come down in the world.’

  ‘The luggage is coming now,’ said Ballard. Stenning pointed out his cases, and Ballard said, ‘Let’s get this stuff out to the car, Mike.’ As they left the terminal he said to Stenning, ‘I’ve booked you a room at the hotel where I’m staying. It’s quite comfortable.’

  ‘Just point me towards a bed,’ said Stenning. ‘I find it difficult to sleep on aircraft. How is the Inquiry going?’

  ‘I’ve kept the newspapers for you. It’s getting good coverage in Christchurch.’

  Stenning grunted. ‘Good! I’ve been in aircraft for two days so I’ve fallen behind with the news. I’m looking forward to discussing the disaster with you, Dr McGill.’

  ‘Any time I’m not in court, Mr Stenning.’

  At the hotel McGill tactfully made himself scarce while Ballard showed Stenning his room. Stenning said, ‘I’m not as resilient as I used to be, Ian. I’m going to bed. Your grandfather would have said a thing or two about that, were he here. At my age he was an assiduous globe-trotter.’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry he’s gone.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ballard. ‘So am I.’

  Stenning regarded him curiously. ‘Are you?’ he asked in a sceptical tone. ‘If you’d have said the other thing I wouldn’t have been surprised – or shocked. Your grandfather was a hard man to get on with. In my opinion he didn’t treat you very well.’

  Ballard shrugged. ‘I’ll miss him all the same.’

  ‘So will I, Ian. So will I. Now, if you’ll excuse a tired old man …’

  ‘Have you eaten? I can get something sent in.’

  ‘No – I just want my bed.’

  Ballard indicated a cupboard. ‘I laid in some drinks. There’s whisky, gin and brandy – with the trimmings.’

  ‘A kindly thought. A whisky before bed will go down very well. I’ll see you tomorrow, Ian.’

  Ballard left him and found McGill having a beer by the pool. McGill raised an eyebrow. ‘Well?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Ballard. ‘He didn’t say a damned thing.’

  McGill frowned. ‘I’ll tell you something,’ he said. ‘He sure as hell didn’t fly thirteen thousand miles to discuss a disaster with Mike McGill.’

  Stenning was absent from breakfast next morning. McGill buttered a slice of toast. ‘He doesn’t seem to be in much of a hurry. Just like a lawyer; they work to a different sort of time from the rest of us.’

  ‘I had a visit from one of my relatives yesterday,’ said Ballard. ‘My cousin Frank.’ He told McGill what had happened.

  McGill whistled. ‘You Ballards play rough. Can he do what he threatened to do? Have you blackballed in the industry?’

  ‘I doubt it. He might like to think he can. He could certainly make life bloody difficult.’

  ‘How come Frank was in Sydney? Very convenient, wasn’t it?’

  ‘The Ballard Group has interests in many countries, including Australia. It’s not unusual to find a member of the family popping up almost anywhere. I think my Uncle Steve, Frank’s father, is also in Sydney. That’s what Frank implied.’

  McGill helped himself to marmalade. ‘Goddamn convenient, all the same. Crowell knew they were in Australia because he blew the whistle on you. Frank came running fast enough.’

  They talked desultorily until McGill had finished his coffee. ‘I’m going to the hospital to see Joe. If Stenning has anything important to say he won’t want me around.’ He went away leaving Ballard to finish his breakfast alone.

  Ballard read the Sunday papers by the pool, concentrating first on the account of the Inquiry. That did not take long, and he went on to the rest of the news which did not take long, either. He felt restless and thought of going to see Liz, but he did not want to leave the hotel without having seen Stenning. He went to his room and put on swimming trunks and worked out his frustration in several lengths of the pool.

  It was eleven-thirty before Stenning appeared, carrying several newspaper clippings. ‘Good morning, Ian,’ he said briskly.

  ‘Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Like a babe. Only to be expected, of course. I had breakfast in my room. Where’s Dr McGill?’

  ‘He’s gone to see Joe Cameron, the mine engineer. He’s still in hospital.’<
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  The clippings fluttered in Stenning’s hand. ‘So I gathered.’ He looked around. ‘We could do worse than have a chat here. Very nice place.’

  Ballard unfolded another garden chair. ‘The town is all right, too. Christchurch prides itself on being more English than England.’

  Stenning sat down. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing it.’ He regarded the clippings, then folded them and put them into his pocket. ‘You’re having quite a time at this Inquiry. I don’t think your family is going to like the things you’ve been saying.’

  ‘I know they don’t like it,’ said Ballard. ‘I had a visit from Frank yesterday. He wants me to shut up.’

  ‘What did you do?’ asked Stenning interestedly.

  ‘I showed him the door.’

  Stenning did not comment but he looked pleased in an indefinable way which Ballard could not place. ‘You know, I was more than your grandfather’s lawyer. I was also his friend.’

  ‘I know he placed a lot of trust in you.’

  ‘Trust,’ said Stenning, and smiled. ‘Trust – that’s what I want to talk about. What do you know about the way your grandfather organized his affairs – I mean his financial affairs?’

  ‘Practically nothing,’ said Ballard. ‘I knew that he put all, or most, of his money into some kind of trust a few years ago. He made it quite clear that I was not going to inherit, so I didn’t take much interest. It was nothing to do with me.’

  Stenning nodded. ‘Yes, it was a little over seven years ago. Do you know anything about estate duties in the United Kingdom?’

  ‘Death duties? Nothing much.’

  ‘Then I shall enlighten you. A man may give his money away – to his family usually – to a charitable foundation, as Ben did. However, if he dies within seven years of the transaction having taken place then his gift is assessed for estate duty just as if he hadn’t made it at all. If he dies after seven years have elapsed then the gift escapes the tax.’

  ‘I had heard about that,’ Ballard smiled. ‘I didn’t worry too much about it, myself. I don’t have much to leave, and I’ve no one to leave it to.’

  Stenning shook his head. ‘Every man must make provision for the unknown future,’ he said in a lawyerly way. ‘Ben died after the seven-year period.’