Desmond Bagley - The Snow Tiger

‘Oh, he was a cantankerous old devil — stubborn and self-opinionated — but there was something about him...’ Ballard shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’

‘What happens to the parent corporation... what’s it called?’

‘Ballard Holdings.’

‘What happens to Ballard Holdings now he’s dead? Is it up for grabs?’

‘I shouldn’t think so. The old man established a trust or something like that. I never really got the hang of it because I knew I wouldn’t figure in it. I imagine that things will remain pretty stable, with Uncle Bert and Uncle Steve and Uncle Ed running things pretty much as they are now. Which is to say badly.’

‘I don’t see why the shareholders put up with it.’

‘The shareholders don’t have a bloody thing to do with it. Let me tell you a fact of financial life, Mike. You don’t really need fifty-one per cent of the shares of a company to control it. Thirty per cent is enough if the other shares are fragmented into small parcels and if your lawyers and accountants are smart enough.’ Ballard shrugged. ‘In any case, the shareholders aren’t too unhappy; all the Ballard companies make profits, and the kind of people who are buying into Ballard companies these days aren’t the type to inquire too closely into how the profits are made.’

‘Yeah,’ said McGill abstractedly. This was not really of interest to him. He leaned forward and said, ‘Let’s do some strategy planning.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ve been figuring how Harrison’s mind works. He’s a very logical guy and that works in our favour. I’m going to give evidence tomorrow about the meeting with the mine management. Why me?’

‘Harrison asked if you’d been present during the entire meeting — and you had. He picked you because you were already on the stand and it was quicker than calling another witness. That’s what I think, anyway.’

McGill looked pleased. ‘That’s what I think, too. Harrison said he’d take evidence in chronological order, and he’s doing just that. Now what happened after the mine meeting?’

‘We had the meeting with the town council.’

‘And what will Harrison ask me?’

‘He’ll ask if you were present during the whole of that meeting — and you’ll have to say no, because you left half way through. So?’

‘So I want to pick the next witness, and knowing how Harrison’s mind works, I think I can swing it.’

‘Who do you want for the next witness?’

‘Turi Buck,’ said McGill. ‘I want to get on record the history of Hukahoronui just to ram things home. I want to get on record the sheer stupidity of that goddam town council.’

Ballard looked broodingly into his glass. ‘I don’t like doing that to Turi. It might hurt.’

‘He 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.