The Snow Tiger / Night of Error. Desmond Bagley
Matt. What did the Civil Defence people have to say?’
Houghton sat down heavily. ‘I haven’t had time to talk to them yet. We’ll be posting signs on the slope; Bobby Fawcett’s scouts are making them and they’ll be putting them up tomorrow. Got any stakes we can use, Joe?’
‘Sure,’ said Cameron, but his voice was abstracted. He was looking at McGill.
Ballard leaned forward. ‘What do you mean, Matt – you didn’t have time? I thought it was agreed …’
Houghton flapped his hands. ‘It’s Saturday, Ian,’ he said plaintively, and shrugged. ‘And tomorrow is Sunday. We probably won’t be able to get through to them until Monday.’
Ballard looked baffled. ‘Matt, do you really think that Civil Defence Headquarters closes down at weekends? All you have to do is to lift the bloody telephone.’
‘Take it easy, Ian. I have enough trouble with the Petersons. Charlie takes the line that no one can prevent him from walking – or skiing – on his own land.’
‘For Christ’s sake! Is he out of his mind?’
Houghton sighed. ‘You know Charlie. It’s that old feud getting in the way.’
‘What the hell did I have to do with buying and selling mineral rights? I was only a kid at the time.’
‘It’s not that; it’s the other thing. Charlie was Alec’s twin, you know.’
‘But that was nearly twenty-five years ago.’
‘Long memories, Ian; long memories.’ Houghton rubbed his jaw. ‘That stuff you told us about your training – you know, Johannesburg and Harvard. Eric was inclined to disbelieve you.’
‘So he thinks I’m a liar as well as a coward,’ said Ballard sourly. ‘What does he think it takes to be in charge of a company like this?’
‘He did mention a rich grandfather,’ said Houghton wryly.
He dropped his eyes under Ballard’s steady stare. Ballard said, ‘I’m expecting a call from old Crowell. You can talk to him if you like. He’ll tell you my qualifications.’ His voice was chilly.
‘Take it easy – I believe you. You’ve made a success of your life, and that’s all that matters.’
‘No, it isn’t, Matt. What matters is that bloody snow on the slope above this town, and I don’t want any ancient history getting in the way. I’m going to make sure the right thing is done, and if the Petersons get in my way I won’t go around them – I’ll go through them. I’ll smash them.’
Houghton gave him a startled look. ‘My God, but you’ve changed!’
‘Turi Buck said it first – I’ve grown up,’ said Ballard tiredly.
There was an embarrassed silence at the table. McGill, who had been quietly watchful, said, ‘I don’t know what that was all about, Mr Houghton, but I can tell you this. The situation is now more serious than that I outlined at our meeting this morning. I’ve taken more samples from the slope and the stability is deteriorating. I’ve also been talking to people about previous avalanches, with the result that I’ve just notified Mr Cameron to prepare for something hitting the mine very hard indeed. I have to tell you that also applies to the town.’
Houghton was affronted. ‘Why the hell didn’t you talk like that this morning instead of pussyfooting around with scientific quibbles? This morning you said the hazard was potential.’
McGill was exasperated. ‘I sometimes wonder if we talk the same language,’ he snapped. ‘The hazard still is potential and it will be until something happens and then it’ll be actual hazard and too goddam late to do anything about it. What do you want me to do? Go up on the slope and trigger it just to prove to you that it can happen?’
Ballard said, ‘Go back to your council and tell them to stop playing politics. And tell the Petersons from me that no one votes for dead men.’ His voice was like iron. ‘You can also tell them that if they don’t do something constructive by midday tomorrow I’ll go over their heads – I’ll call a public meeting and put it to the people direct.’
‘And telephone Civil Defence as soon as you can,’ added McGill.
Houghton took a deep breath and stood up. His face was red and shiny with sweat. ‘I’ll do the best I can,’ he said, and walked away.
Ballard stared after him. ‘I wonder if this is a good time to get drunk?’
‘Did Mr Ballard drink heavily that night?’ asked Lyall.
Cameron’s lips compressed and then he relaxed. ‘Not more than most,’ he said easily. ‘It was a party, you must remember. For instance, he didn’t drink as much as me.’ As an apparent afterthought he added, ‘Or as much as your clients there.’
Lyall said sharply, ‘I must protest. The witness cannot be allowed to make gratuitous innuendoes of that nature.’
Harrison was trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile. ‘It appears to me that Mr Cameron was merely trying to put Mr Ballard’s drinking in the scale of things. Is that not so, Mr Cameron?’
‘It was a party in a small town,’ said Cameron. ‘Sure, there was drinking. Some of the boys from the mine got pretty smashed. Some of the town folk, too. I was a bit rosy myself towards the end. But Mr Ballard was nowhere near drunk. I don’t think he’s really a drinking man. But he had a few.’
‘I think that answers Mr Lyall’s question. Go on, Mr Cameron.’
‘Well, at about eleven-thirty that night Mr Ballard again tackled the mayor about whether he’d telephoned anybody – Civil Defence or whatever – and Houghton said he hadn’t. He said he didn’t see that a few hours would make any difference and he wasn’t going to make a fool of himself in the middle of the night by ringing up some caretaker and asking him damn silly questions.’
Harrison looked across at Ballard. ‘Mr Cameron, it would be improper to ask you why Mr Ballard, at this point, did not make the call himself. Mr Ballard is here to answer for himself, as I am sure he will. But, if there was this urgency, why did you not make the call?’
Cameron looked embarrassed. ‘We’d been told, quite bluntly, to keep our noses out of town business. And up to that time we thought the call had been made. When we found it hadn’t we thought the likelihood of getting anyone at Civil Defence who could tell us what we wanted to know was slight. Another thing was that Mr Ballard still hoped to co-operate with the council, and if he made the call they’d think he’d gone over their heads on what they would consider to be town business. Relations between mine and town might be permanently damaged.’
‘What did Dr McGill think of this?’
‘He wasn’t around at the time; he’d gone out to check the weather. But afterwards he said that Mr Ballard was a damned fool.’ Cameron scratched his cheek. ‘He said I was a damned fool, too.’
‘It seems that Dr McGill is the only person to come out of this with any credit,’ observed Harrison. ‘There appears to have been a lot of buck-passing for reasons which pale into insignificance when one considers the magnitude of the disaster.’
‘I agree,’ said Cameron frankly. ‘But Dr McGill was the only person who had any conception of the magnitude of the trouble which faced us. When he told me to prepare for an impact pressure of ten tons a square foot I thought he was coming it a bit strong. I accepted his reasoning but at the back of my mind I didn’t really believe it. I think that Mr Ballard was in the same case, and he and I are technical men.’
‘And because the members of the council were not technical men do you