Десмонд Бэгли - Landslide

Donner cracked his knuckles and said precisely, ‘Any geological exploration of Matterson land we’ll organize for ourselves. We don’t need you to do it for us, Boyd. You’ll stay clear in future, I trust.’

‘You bet he’ll stay clear,’ said Matterson.

I said, ‘Howard, you’ve held tree-farm licences for so long that you think you own the goddam land. Give you another few years and you’ll think you own the whole province of British Columbia. Your head’s getting swelled, Howard.’

‘Don’t call me Howard,’ he snapped. ‘Come to the point.’

‘All right,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t on Matterson land — I was on Crown land. Anyone with a prospector’s licence can fossick on Crown land. Just because you have a licence to grow and cut lumber doesn’t mean you can stop me. And if you think you can, I’ll slap a court order on you so fast that it’ll make your ears spin.’

It took some time to sink in but it finally did and he looked at Donner in a helpless way. I grinned at Donner and mimicked Matterson. ‘Tell him.’

Donner said, ‘ If you were on Crown land — and that is a matter of question — then perhaps you are right.’

I said, ‘There’s no perhaps about it; you know I’m right.’

Matterson said suddenly, ‘I don’t think you were on Crown land.’

‘Check your maps,’ I said helpfully. ‘I bet you haven’t looked at them for years. You’re too accustomed to regarding the whole goddam country as your own.’

Matterson twitched a finger at Donner, who left the room. He looked at me with hard eyes. ‘What are you up to, Boyd?’

‘Just trying to make a living,’ I said easily. ‘There’s a lot of good prospecting country round here — it’s just as good a place to explore as up north, and a lot warmer, too.’

‘You might find it too warm,’ he said acidly. ‘You’re not going about things in a friendly way.’

I raised my eyebrows. ‘ I’m not! You ought to have been out on the road to Kinoxi this morning. I’d sooner be friendly with a grizzly bear than with some of your truckers. Anyway, I didn’t come here to enter a popularity contest.’

‘Why did you come here?’

‘Maybe you’ll find out one day — if you’re smart enough, Howard.’

‘I told you not to call me Howard,’ he said irritatedly.

Donner came in with a map, and I saw it was a copy of the one I had inspected in Tanner’s office. Howard spread it on his desk and I said, ‘You’ll find that the Kinoxi Valley is split between you and Clare Trinavant — she in the north and you in the south with the lion’s share. But Matterson land stops just short of the escarpment — everything south of that is Crown land. And that means that the dam at the top of the escarpment and the powerhouse at the bottom is on Crown land, and I can go fossicking round there any time I like. Any comment?’

Matterson looked up at Donner, who nodded his head slightly. ‘It seems that Mr Boyd is correct,’ he said.

‘You’re damn’ right I’m correct.’ I pointed at Matterson. ‘Now there’s something else I want to bring up — a matter of a wrecked Land-Rover.’

He glared at me. ‘I’m not responsible for the way you drive.’

The way he said it I was certain he knew what had happened. ‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’ll be using the Kinoxi road pretty often in the near future. Tell your truckers to keep away from me, or someone will get killed in a road accident — and it won’t be me.’

He just showed me his teeth, and said, ‘I understand you were staying at the Matterson House.’ He leaned so heavily on the past tense that the sentence nearly busted in the middle.

‘I get the message,’ I said. ‘Enemies to the death, eh, Howard?’ I walked out without saying another word and went down to the Matterson House Hotel.

The desk clerk moved fast but I got in first. ‘I understand I’ve checked out,’ I said sourly.

‘Er... yes, Mr Boyd. I’ve prepared your bill.’

I paid it, then went up and packed my case and lugged it across the road to Summerskill’s car lot. He climbed out from under the Land-Rover and looked at me in a puzzled manner. ‘Not ready yet, Mr Boyd.’

‘That’s all right. I have to get something to eat.’

He scrambled to his feet. ‘Hey, Mr Boyd; you know, something funny has happened. I just checked the chassis and it has bulged. ’

‘What do you mean — bulged?’

Summerskill held his hands about a foot apart with curled fingers like a man holding a short length of four-by-two, and brought them together slowly. ‘This damn’ chassis has been squoze. ’ He wore a baffled look.

‘Will that make any difference to its running?’

He shrugged. ‘Not much — if you don’t expect much.’

‘Then leave well alone,’ I advised. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I’ve had a bite to eat.’

I ate at the Hellenic Café, expecting to see McDougall but he didn’t show up. I didn’t want to see him at the Recorder office so I drifted round town for a while, keeping my eyes open. When after nearly an hour I hadn’t seen him, I went back to Summerskill to find that he’d nearly finished the job.

‘That’ll be forty-five dollars, Mr Boyd,’ he said. ‘And I’m letting it go cheap.’

I dumped some groceries I had bought into the back of the Land-Rover and took out my wallet, mentally adding it to the account that Matterson was going to pay some day. As I counted out the bills, Summerskill said, ‘I wasn’t able to do much with the top of the cab. I bashed the metal back into place and put some canvas on top; that’ll keep the rain out.’

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘If I have another accident — and that’s not unlikely — you shall have my trade.’

He pulled a sour face. ‘You have another accident like that and there’ll be nothing left to repair.’

I drove out of town to McDougall’s cabin and parked the Land-Rover out of sight after I had unloaded everything. I stripped and changed and heated some water. A little went to make coffee and I washed my shirt and pants in the rest. I stacked the groceries in the pantry and began to get my gear in order, checking to see exactly what was ruined. I was grieving over a busted scintillometer when I heard the noise of a car, and when I ducked my head to look out of the window I saw a battered old Chevvy pulling up outside. McDougall got out.

‘I thought I’d find you here,’ he said. ‘They told me at the hotel you’d checked out.’

‘Howard arranged it,’ I said.

‘I had a telephone call from God not half an hour ago,’ said Mac. ‘Old Bull is getting stirred up. He wants to know who you are, where you’re from, what your intentions are and how long you’re going to stay around Fort Farrell.’ He smiled. ‘He gave me the job of finding out, naturally enough.’

‘No comment,’ I said.

Mac raised his eyebrows. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean that I’m exercising my God-given right to keep my mouth shut. You tell old Matterson that I refuse to speak to the Press. I want to keep him guessing — I want him to come to me.’

‘Good enough,’ said Mac. ‘But he’s lost you. No one knows you’re here.’

‘We can’t keep that a secret for long,’ I said. ‘Not in a town as small as Fort Farrell.’ I smiled. ‘So we finally goosed the old boy into moving. I wonder what did it.’

‘It could have been anything, from the talk I’ve heard round town,’ said Mac. ‘Ben Parker, for instance, thinks you’re crazy.’

‘Who is Ben Parker?’

‘The guy at the bus depot. Clarry Summerskill, on the other hand, holds you in great respect.’