The Snow Tiger / Night of Error. Desmond Bagley
wants to do it. He’s already put himself forward as a voluntary witness. He’s staying with his sister here in Christchurch; we’ll pick him up tomorrow morning.’
‘All right.’
‘Now, look, Ian. Turi is an old man and may be likely to become confused under hostile cross-examination. We’ve got to make sure that the right questions are asked in the right order. We’ve got to cover the ground so thoroughly that no one – not Lyall nor Rickman – can find a loophole.’
‘I’ll make out a list of questions for Rickman,’ said Ballard.
McGill rolled his eyes skyward. ‘Can’t you get it into your thick skull that if Rickman questions Turi it will be in a hostile manner.’
Ballard said sharply, ‘Rickman is representing me and he’ll follow my instructions.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
‘If he doesn’t then I’ll know you’re right – and that will free me completely. We’ll see.’ He drained his glass. ‘I feel sticky; I’m going to have a shower.’
As they left the bar McGill said, ‘About that cablegram. You’re not going back, are you?’
‘You mean running home to Mamma?’ Ballard grinned. ‘Not while Harrison is Chairman of the Commission. I doubt if even my mother could win against Harrison.’
‘Your mother isn’t Jewish, is she?’ asked McGill curiously.
‘No. Why do you ask?’
‘Oh, it’s just that Jewish mothers are popularly supposed to be strong-willed. But I think that your mother could give a Jewish mother points and still win.’
‘It’s not a matter of a strong will,’ said Ballard soberly. ‘It’s just straightforward moral blackmail.’
McGill and Ballard found Turi Buck waiting outside his sister’s home at nine-thirty next morning. Although it was still early the weather showed signs of becoming oppressively hot. Ballard leaned over to open the back door of the car, and said, ‘Jump in, Turi.’
‘I’m past jumping anywhere, Ian,’ said Turi wryly, ‘But I’ll endeavour to accommodate myself in this seat.’
Sometimes Turi’s phrases had an oddly old-fashioned ring about them. Ballard knew he had never been formally educated but had read a lot, and he suspected that Sir Walter Scott was responsible for some of the more courtly expressions.
‘It’s good of you to come, Turi.’
‘I had to come, Ian.’
In the Provincial Chamber, at precisely ten o’clock, Harrison tapped the top of the rostrum gently with his gavel, and said, ‘We are now prepared to resume the inquiry into the avalanche disaster at Hukahoronui. Dr McGill was giving evidence. Will you please resume your seat?’
McGill walked to the witness chair and sat down. Harrison said, ‘Yesterday you referred to a meeting of the mine management at which you presented a report. What happened at that meeting?’
McGill tugged at his ear thoughtfully. ‘The problem was to explain the evidence and to get them to accept it. Mr Ballard had already accepted it. Mr Cameron wanted to go through the figures in detail, but he came around in the end. The others weren’t as convinced. It went like this …’
It was Cameron, the engineer, who saw the true significance of the cup crystals. ‘Could you draw a picture of one of those, Mike?’
‘Sure.’ McGill took a pencil from his pocket and made a drawing. ‘As I said, it’s conical in shape – like this – and it has this hollow in the blunt end. That’s why it’s called a cup crystal.’
‘I’m not worried about the hollow.’ Cameron stared at the drawing. ‘What you’ve sketched here is a pretty good picture of a tapered roller bearing. You say these are likely to form under that layer of hard hoar frost?’
‘Correct.’
‘That’s not good,’ said Cameron. ‘That’s not good at all. If you get a lot of weight on top pushing downwards vertically by gravity then there’ll be a resultant force sideways on the slope. The whole hillside could come down on ready-made bearings.’
Cameron passed the drawing to Dobbs who looked at it with Quentin, the union man, peering over his shoulder. ‘Any of those cup things there now?’
‘There are indications of them forming in one of the samples I took. I’d say the process is well under way.’
‘Let’s have a look at your stress figures.’ Cameron grimaced as he began to go through the equations. ‘I’m used to working with stronger stuff than snow.’
‘The principle is the same,’ said McGill.
Dobbs handed the drawing to Ballard. ‘Are you seriously telling us that there’ll be an avalanche which will fall on this mine?’
‘Not exactly,’ said McGill carefully. ‘What I’m saying, at this moment, is that there is a potential hazard that must be watched. I don’t think there is a present danger – it’s not going to come down in the next hour or even today. A lot depends on future events.’
‘Such as?’ asked Ballard.
‘The way the temperature goes. Future snow precipitation. An appreciable rise in wind speed wouldn’t help much, either.’
‘And the forecast is for more snow,’ said Ballard.
McGill said, ‘When you have a potential hazard like this you have to take precautions. Protecting the mine portal, for instance. There’s a steel construction called Wonder Arch which comes in useful. It was developed at Camp Century in Greenland specifically for this type of application. It’s used a lot in the Antarctic.’
‘Is it expensive?’ asked Dobbs. His voice was clouded with doubt.
McGill shrugged. ‘It depends on how much money you put against lives on the balance sheet.’ He turned to Cameron. ‘Joe, remember me asking if you’d heard of Granduc in British Columbia?’
Cameron looked up from the figures. ‘Yeah. I hadn’t.’
‘Granduc is remarkably like your mine here. They installed Wonder Arch – put in a covered way to the mine portal.’ He rubbed the side of his jaw. ‘It was like closing a stable door after the horse has gone; they put in the arch in 1966 after the avalanche of 1965 when twenty-six men died.’
There was a silence broken after a while by Cameron. ‘You make your point very clearly.’
Ballard said, ‘I’ll put it to the Board of Directors.’
‘That’s not all,’ said McGill. ‘You got to look at the situation in the long term. That slope is dangerous mostly because it’s been stripped of timber. It will have to be stabilized again, and that means building snow rakes. Good snow rakes cost sixty dollars a foot run – I doubt if you’d get away with under a million dollars.’
The sound of Dobbs’s suddenly indrawn breath was harsh.
‘Then there’s the snow deflection walls at the bottom,’ went on McGill inexorably. ‘That’s more – maybe even half a million. It’s going to cost a packet.’
‘The Board won’t stand for it,’ said Dobbs. He stared at Ballard. ‘You know we’re just paying our way now. They’re not going to put in all that extra capital for no increase in production. It just isn’t on.’
Quentin