The Snow Tiger / Night of Error. Desmond Bagley
question.’
‘It’s quite a simple question. Please answer it.’
‘I didn’t give it a thought.’
Ballard picked up a sheet of paper. ‘You said in evidence that your secretary had left a number of messages from me. You also said that you judged, from the number and tenor of those messages, that the matter was urgent. Did you think I’d been drunk all day? The first call I had was at eleven-thirty that morning.’
‘I told you. I didn’t give it a thought.’
‘Evidently not. So you did not try to call me back?’
‘No.’
‘And you did not try to communicate with the Ministry of Civil Defence?’
‘No.’
‘As a matter of interest, Mr Crowell, what did you do? After you had discussed it with your wife, I mean.’
‘I went to bed.’
‘You went to bed,’ repeated Ballard slowly. ‘Thank you, Mr Crowell. That will be all.’ He waited until Crowell was rising from the chair and was in a half crouch. ‘Oh, there is just one further thing. Did you come forward voluntarily to give evidence here, or were you subpoena’d?’
‘I object,’ said Rickman. ‘That has nothing to do with anything.’
‘I agree, Mr Rickman,’ said Harrison smoothly. ‘This Commission need not be instructed that Mr Crowell was subpoena’d – it already knows.’ He ignored the indescribable sound that came from Rickman, and continued blandly, ‘And now I think we shall adjourn for lunch.’
Over lunch in the restaurant near the Provincial Buildings, McGill said, ‘You’re doing all right, Ian. You got in some good stuff this morning.’
Ballard poured a glass of water. ‘I didn’t think Harrison would let me get away with it.’
‘Get away with it! God, he compounded with you. He ticked you off when he had to, but he didn’t stop you. I thought I’d split a gusset when he brought out the bit that Crowell had been subpoena’d. He agreed with Rickman and harpooned him in the same breath.’ McGill paused. ‘I don’t think Harrison likes Crowell.’
‘I don’t like him much myself.’
‘You’re not doing yourself much good with your family. That histrionic speech about the company dancing to strings pulled in the City of London won’t go down well with your uncles back home. Where did you learn to pull a trick like that?’
Ballard grinned. ‘Watching the Perry Mason Show.’ He shrugged. ‘It won’t make much difference. I’ve already decided to leave the Ballard Group.’
‘After a speech like that you’ll have to. I can’t see any Ballard company hiring you now. What will you do?’
‘Haven’t made up my mind yet. Something will turn up.’ He frowned. ‘I keep wondering what Stenning wants.’
‘Do you know him at all?’
‘Not well. The old man relied on him a lot, and I know why. He’s a tough old bird, about as ruthless as old Ben was himself. Ben told him what he wanted to do, and Stenning figured out a legal way of doing it. He’s as sharp as a tack.’
‘You say he’s old – how old?’
Ballard reflected. ‘He’ll be pushing seventy now, I suppose. He was much younger than Ben. One of the bright young men that Ben surrounded himself with in the early years.’
‘An old guy of seventy flying half way across the world,’ mused McGill. ‘Could be important, Ian.’
‘I can’t see how.’
McGill looked up. ‘Here comes someone else who is not doing herself much good with her family.’ He stood up. ‘Hi, Liz.’
Liz Peterson put her hand on Ballard’s shoulder. ‘Don’t get up, Ian. Hi, Mike.’
McGill drew up a chair for her and then sat down. He put out his hand and rubbed Liz’s dog behind the ears. ‘Hi, Victor; how’s the boy?’ The Alsatian lolled his tongue and his tail wagged vigorously.
‘I didn’t see you at the hearing this morning,’ said Ballard.
‘I was there. Wouldn’t miss it for anything. It’s just that I wasn’t sitting with the boys. I don’t like Lyall – he gives me the cold grues. Where’s Joe?’
‘Gone back to the hospital. Giving evidence this morning took it out of him.’
Liz tapped on the table. ‘My charming brother, Charlie, manufactures the bullets and Lyall fires them.’ She burlesqued Lyall’s accent. ‘“Did Mr Ballard drink heavily that night?” I damn near cheered when Joe fired that right back. It wounded Charlie to the heart.’
‘You’re not doing yourself much good with them,’ warned Ballard.
‘To hell with both of them,’ she said pleasantly. ‘I only stuck around because of Johnnie, and now he’s dead I’ll be leaving Huka. Maybe I’ll be leaving New Zealand.’
‘A fine pair you are,’ said McGill. ‘Don’t either of you believe in family ties at all?’
‘Not with that pair,’ said Liz. ‘I nearly gave Charlie a heart attack just now. I said that if anyone implied that Ian was drunk just once more I’d offer my services as your witness. I said that I can tell well enough when the man I’m dancing with is drunk, and that Ian wasn’t but that Charlie certainly was.’ She laughed. ‘I’ve never seen a man go red and white at the same time.’
‘I’d be careful, Liz,’ said Ballard soberly. ‘Charlie can be violent.’
‘Don’t I know it! I once had to crown him with a bottle. But I can handle him.’
McGill smiled satirically. ‘So unlike the home life of our own dear Queen,’ he observed.
Ballard said, ‘Thanks for the support, Liz. Ever since the avalanche I’ve been depressed, but now the depression is lifting. I’ve made a couple of decisions and now the way ahead seems a lot clearer. You’ve had a lot to do with it.’
‘I bring more than support, sir – I bring information. Rickman and Lyall are cooking up something together. I was driving past the company office just now when they both came out together, laughing fit to bust.’
‘Watch it, Ian,’ warned McGill. ‘It’ll be a pincer movement.’
‘Thanks, Liz,’ said Ballard.
She looked at her watch. ‘I think I’ll sit with the boys this afternoon. I might learn something more. See you at the hearing.’ She stood up. ‘Come on, Victor.’
As she walked away McGill said, ‘The prettiest spy I ever did see.’ He finished his coffee and looked around for the waitress. ‘We’d better be going, too. By the way, what are these couple of decisions you’ve made?’
‘You’ve heard one – I’m leaving the Ballard Group.’
‘And the other?’
‘I’m getting married,’ said Ballard placidly.
McGill paused, his wallet half way from his breast pocket. ‘Well, congratulations. Who’s the lucky girl?’
Ballard dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. ‘Liz Peterson – if she’ll have me.’
‘You must be insane,’ said McGill. ‘Who’d want Charlie as a brother-in-law?’