Desmond Bagley - The Snow Tiger / Night of Error

He turned a page. ‘On the second day Dr McGill said that the death-roll in the disaster was higher than need be. You overruled an objection to that on the grounds that this is not a court of law and the procedure is at your sole discretion.’

He looked up. ‘Mr Chairman, this inquiry is being widely reported in the Press, not only in New Zealand but also in the United Kingdom. Regardless of your findings, the public is going to blame someone for those unnecessary deaths. Now, certain imputations have been made about my character, my drinking habits and a supposed propensity for practical joking which, in my own interests, I cannot allow to pass unchallenged. I ask to be allowed to question Mr Crowell about these matters, and the fact that I was suspended from my duties a fortnight after the disaster certainly seems to me to be a legitimate reason for inquiry.’

Harrison conferred briefly with his two assessors, then said, ‘It is not the wish of this Commission that a man’s reputation be put lightly at stake. You may sit down, Mr Ballard, and continue your questioning of Mr Crowell.’

Rickman said warningly, ‘There may be grounds for appeal here, Mr Chairman.’

‘There may, indeed,’ agreed Harrison tranquilly. ‘You will find the procedure set out in the Commissions of Inquiry Act. Continue, Mr Ballard.’

Ballard sat down. ‘Why was I suspended from my duties, Mr Crowell?’

‘It was a unanimous decision of the board.’

‘That is not exactly answering my question, but we’ll let it pass for the moment. You said in evidence that you had nothing to do with my appointment, that you would rather have chosen another man, and that the instructions came from London. Do you usually take your instructions from London, Mr Crowell?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Then where do you take your instructions from?’

‘Why, from …’ Crowell stopped short. ‘I do not take instructions, as you put it, I am chairman of the company.’

‘I see. Do you regard yourself as a sort of dictator?’

‘That is an insulting question.’

‘Maybe you might think so. All the same, I’d like you to answer it.’

‘Of course I’m not a dictator.’

‘You can’t have it both ways,’ said Ballard. ‘Either you take instructions or you do not. Which is it, Mr Crowell?’

‘As chairman I assist the board in making decisions. All decisions are made jointly.’

‘A most democratic process,’ commented Ballard. ‘But the decision to appoint me as managing director was not made jointly by the board, was it, Mr Crowell?’

‘The decision need not be unanimous,’ said Crowell. ‘As you have pointed out, this is a democratic process where the majority rules.’

‘But not so democratic as to be a one man, one vote system. Is it not a fact that he who controls most votes controls the company?’

‘That is the usual system.’

‘And you said in evidence that the instruction to appoint me came from a majority shareholder in London. Is that shareholder a member of the board?’

Crowell twitched nervously. In a low voice he said, ‘No, he is not.’

‘Then is it not a fact that your board of directors has no real power and is thus a democratic sham? Is it not a fact that the power to control the company lies elsewhere? In the City of London?’

‘That is a misreading of the situation,’ said Crowell sullenly.

‘Let us turn from my appointment to my suspension,’ said Ballard. ‘Did the instruction to suspend me also come from London?’

‘It may have done.’

‘Surely you know. You are the chairman of the board.’

‘But not concerned with the day to day running of the company.’

‘No,’ agreed Ballard. ‘That was the function of the managing director. You said so yourself in your evidence. Surely you are not suggesting that I suspended myself?’

Dan Edwards could not contain himself. There was a loud snigger from the Press gallery and Harrison looked up, frowning.

‘You are being ridiculous,’ said Crowell.

Ballard said drily, ‘Any ridiculousness inherent in this situation certainly does not emanate from me. There remains one alternative. Are you suggesting that the suspension of the managing director was a minor bit of day to day business that was beneath your notice as chairman?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Then you will know where the idea of my suspension originated, won’t you?’

‘Now I come to think of it, the instruction for your suspension did come from London.’

‘I see. But that again is not an exact answer to the question. Is it not a fact that you communicated with London because the board is a puppet dancing to strings held in the City of London? Is it not a fact that a suggestion was made – by you – that the company was in danger of being in bad odour because of evidence to be given at this inquiry? And is it not a fact that you intimated that I, as a Johnny-come-lately, was an ideal person to shuffle the responsibility on to, and that it was then that the instruction was given – from London – that I be suspended?’

‘Objection!’ cried Rickman. ‘Mr Ballard cannot lead the witness in this way.’

‘I tend to agree,’ said Harrison. ‘Such a compendium cannot be permitted, Mr Ballard.’

‘I withdraw the question.’ Ballard knew, from the rustle in the Press gallery, that he had made his point where it mattered. ‘I shall return to the telephone conversation between Mr Crowell and myself. When you were cut off, what did you do? Oh yes; you talked it over with your wife, didn’t you? What was the substance of that conversation?’

‘I don’t remember.’ Crowell added irritably, ‘It was late at night and we were both very tired.’

‘When you were cut off, did you attempt to replace the call?’

‘No.’

‘No? Why not?’

‘You heard my evidence. I thought you were drunk.’

‘How long did you think I’d been drunk, Mr Crowell?’ asked Ballard softly.

Crowell looked startled and uncomprehending. ‘I don’t understand the 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.’