Hammond Innes - Levkas man

"It was in nineteen fifty-nine," I said. "Why?"

He nodded. "Yes, that fits in nicely-the Hungarian uprising, his political doubts and then suddenly he finds himself for the first time financially independent."

"I don't believe it was just a question of money," I said.

He looked at me sharply. "Well, no-nineteen fifty-nine and 'sixty were the years of the great East African discoveries at Olduvai." The smile switched on briefly. "But money makes a difference, even to a scientist. It meant he no longer had to concentrate his efforts in the east. Instead, he switched his attention to the Central Mediterranean-to Malta, Sicily, North Africa. He w^as in Cyprus in nineteen sixty-four, and the following year he made his first expedition to Greece." He leaned back over the desk and tapped his pipe out in the onyx bowl. "Four years ago he suddenly offered a book to a British publishing house. That manuscript was the first indication I had that he had changed his line of thinking. It was based on an entirely new conception; nothing revolutionary, you understand, but the theories it advanced were new as far as he was concerned. The publishers asked me to advise them. I had no hesitation in recommending rejection."

"Why?"

"For many reasons, most of which will probably be beyond you."

"And it was never published?"

"As far as I know he never offered it to another London publisher."

He obviously sensed my hostility, for he added quickly, "I'm not the only scientist in the West who has followed his career with interest, many of us envious of the advantages of State patronage while deploring the inevitable distortion of facts. But there was nothing personal about my rejection of the book. Please understand that. It was a clever piece of writing, but not definitive, and I formed the impression that he was mainly concerned to convince himself of the validity of his own arguments. He had shifted his ground, you see." He leaned forward, his pipe clasped in both hands. "Just over a year ago I heard he was short of funds. He was then concentrating his energies on Greece, in the area of the Ionian Sea. As a member of a Committee that advises on the allocation of certain Government grants, I persuaded the Chairman to write to him suggesting this was something that might come within the scope of our Committee. There was no reply to this. But then, in November of last year. Lord Craigallan had a letter from him. No doubt you are well aware of your father's present financial straits. He admitted he could not mount another expedition unaided. In the end, we not only gave him a grant, but, through my university, put a Land-Rover at his disposal and also provided him with a very able assistant. I had a report from Cartwright just before I left London. He had already informed me that he had found Dr. Van der Voort difficult to work with. But I had no idea how bad things were between them until I read his report."

He paused there and I knew we had at last reached the object of the interview. He put his pipe back in his mouth. "You know, I suppose, that Van der Voort has disappeared. What you may not know is the circumstances."

I stared at him, my mind adjusting slowly to this new information.

"Cartwright has a broken wrist, and other injuries-fortunately minor." He shook his head. "A clash of personalities I can understand. That's always possible in an expedition. Men get tired. The Aveather makes camping uncomfortable. Disappointment saps morale." He was frowning angrily. "But in this case the weather was fine-cold, but fine-and after more than a month of slogging it through the mountains without achieving anything, they had just made a significant discovery. There was no justification for it whatsoever."

"You mean my father attacked him?"

"So Cartwright says. Van der Voort called him out of his tent. There was an argument and he went for him with a stick. It was night, and the attack was so unexpected Cartwright didn't have a chance to defend himself. He took to his heels and that saved him. He describes Van der Voort's behaviour as that of a maniac."

"What happened then? You say my father disappeared?"

"He drove off in the Land-Rover." He was looking at me curiously. "You didn't know about this?"

"No."

"I presumed you did-that it was the reason you were in Amsterdam." I could see his curiosity mounting. He took his pipe out of his mouth and I said quickly:

"Where did this happen?"

"In Greece, near a village called Despotiko up by the Albanian border."

"There can't be many Land-Rovers in Greece," I said. "The authorities ought to be able to trace it quite easily."

He nodded. "Of course. But Cartwright thought it inadvisable to contact the police. They had difficulty enough getting into the country. In any case, he found the Land-Rover himself, abandoned in the nearby town of Jannina. What is disturbing is that the expedition's funds were gone." Apparently they had been keeping the money in the tool locker for safety and the padlock had been forced. "We've cabled them additional funds, but the whole thing is unpleasant to say the least of it." He leaned his head forward, his eyes narrowed. "You haven't heard from your father at all?" No.

"It's just a coincidence then that you're here?"

"Yes."

He leaned back. "I was hoping perhaps you could help me. What I'm concerned about, you see, is my own responsibility in the matter. I sponsored the allocation of the Government grant and I feel it my duty to see that the taxpayers' money is not wasted." He was staring at me. "If anything happens to him you're presumably his heir."

I laughed. "I shouldn't think so for a minute." And then, because he was still staring at me, as though holding me responsible, I said, "It's nothing to do with me. And anyway, as I imderstand it, he hasn't any money."

"I wasn't thinking of money," he said. "But he was writing a book. That book would almost certainly give us the information we need to continue the work of this expedition. And since he hadn't got the manuscript with him, I presume it's here in this house, and if I may say so. ." He stopped at the sound of the street door closing and footsteps on the stairs.

It was Sonia Winters. She burst into the room and then checked at the sight of him sitting there at the desk. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you had anybody with you." She had been hurrying and her voice sounded breathless.

I introduced them. She seemed to have heard of Professor Holroyd, for she repeated his name and then stood there, staring at him, wide-eyed, in that infuriating way she had.

Holroyd smiled. "There's a young man with Dr. Van der Voort on his expedition-"

"My brother." Her voice was tight and controlled. Her eyes switched from Holroyd to me, and then back to Holroyd again. "I'd better go," she murmured. But she didn't move and her eyes remained fastened on him as though mesmerized.

I started to tell her what had happened, but she cut me short. "That's what I tried to tell you last night. Your father has disappeared. It's all in the letter I had from Hans-everything, if you'd only listened." Her gaze swung back to my visitor. "Why are you here?" She was suddenly so defensive, her tone so imperious, that even Holroyd was surprised and at a loss for words. She turned to me. "What does he want?"

"He's convinced my father was working on a book. ."

"He wants to see it?"

Holroyd began to explain about the grant again, but she cut him short. "First an East German professor trying to bribe me, then threatening. Now you. There isn't any book."

"Come, come. Miss Winters." Holroyd's features were still set in a smile, his whole expression moulded to charm. "He's had two books published in Russia. He wrote a third which he offered to a London publisher. Since then he's been on a number of expeditions. Don't tell me he hasn't been committing the results of those expeditions to writing. It wouldn't be natural."