The Snow Tiger / Night of Error

‘They are dangerous because of their rounded shape and because there is very little bonding between one crystal and another.’ McGill tugged at his ear. ‘As a very rough analogy I would suggest that it would be very difficult for a man to walk on a floor loosely packed with billiard balls. It’s that kind of instability.’

‘Was there any evidence of cup crystals forming at this time?’

‘They had begun to form in sample one, the highest up the slope. I had reason to believe that the process would continue which would result in a marked decline in stability.’

‘Go on, Dr McGill.’

McGill put up a third finger. ‘Three, the weather forecast at the time indicated more snow – more weight – on that slope.’ He dropped his hand. ‘All things considered I came to the conclusion that the snow cover on the western slope of the valley of Hukahoronui was relatively unstable and thus formed a potential avalanche hazard. I so informed the mine management.’

‘You mean Mr Ballard?’ asked Harrison.

‘Present at the meeting were Mr Ballard; Mr Dobbs, the mine manager; Mr Cameron, the mine engineer; Mr Quentin, the union representative.’

‘And you were present during the whole of that meeting?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then I think we can take your evidence as best evidence of what occurred at the meeting, subject to later appraisal. However, the time has come to adjourn for today. We will gather here at ten in the morning when you, Dr McGill, will again be a witness. The hearing is adjourned.’

SIX

The participants of the hearing flooded on to the pavement of Armagh Street and began to disperse. Dan Edwards, heading rapidly beerwards, stopped when Dalwood said, ‘Who is the tall redhead talking to Ballard? The girl with the dog.’

Edwards craned his neck. ‘Good God! Now what the hell goes on there?’

‘Who is she?’

‘Liz Peterson, the sister of Charlie and Eric.’

Dalwood watched Ballard pat the Alsatian and smile at the girl warmly. ‘They seem on good terms.’

‘Yes – bloody funny, isn’t it? Charlie has got his knife so deep into Ballard that he’s in blood up to his armpit. I wonder if he knows Liz is fraternizing with the enemy?’

‘We’ll soon know,’ said Dalwood. ‘Here come Charlie and Eric now.’

The two men came out of the building, unsmiling and exchanging monosyllables. Charlie looked up and his face became thunderous. He snapped something at his brother and quickened his pace, elbowing his way through the crowd on the pavement. At that moment a car drew up and Ballard got into it and when Charlie reached his sister Ballard had gone. Charlie spoke to his sister and an argument seemed to develop.

Edwards watched the by-play, and said, ‘If he didn’t know he does now. What’s more, he doesn’t like it.’

‘And the dog doesn’t like Charlie. Look at it.’

The Alsatian’s upper lip was curled back in a snarl and Liz Peterson shortened her grip on the lead and spoke sharply to it.

Edwards sighed. ‘Let’s get that beer. The first one will hiss going down.’

Mike McGill was driving the car. He slanted an eye at Ballard and then returned his attention to the road. ‘Well, what do you think?’

‘Your evidence was good. Very concise.’

‘Rolandson helped; he fed me some good lines. He makes a good straight man to my comedian. You didn’t do too well, though.’

‘I’m doing all right.’

‘Wake up, Ian! That son of a bitch, Rickman, is going to deliver you bound and gagged if you don’t stop him.’

‘Save it, Mike,’ said Ballard shortly. ‘I’m too bloody tired.’

McGill bit his lip and lapsed into silence. After ten minutes he swung off the road and parked in the forecourt of their hotel. ‘You’ll feel better after a cold beer,’ he said. ‘It was goddam hot in that courthouse. Okay?’

‘All right,’ said Ballard listlessly.

They went into the hotel bar and McGill ordered two beers and took them to a discreet table. ‘Here’s mud in your eye.’ He drank and gasped with pleasure. ‘God, how I needed that!’ He replenished his glass. ‘That courthouse is sure some place. Who designed it – Edward the Confessor?’

‘It’s not a courthouse – it’s a sort of provincial House of Parliament. Or it was.’

McGill grinned. ‘The bit I like about it are those pious texts set in the stained glass windows. I wonder who thought those up?’ In the same even tone he said, ‘What did Liz Peterson want?’

‘Just to wish me well.’

‘Did she?’ said McGill sardonically. ‘If she really meant it she’d operate on that brother of hers with a sharp knife.’ He watched the condensation form on the outside of his glass. ‘Come to think of it, a blunt knife might be better. The Peterson lawyer was really sniping at you this morning.’

‘I know.’ Ballard took another draught. It seemed to do him good. ‘It doesn’t matter, Mike. You and I know the evidence is on our side.’

‘You’re wrong,’ said McGill flatly. ‘Evidence is how a lawyer puts it – and talking about lawyers, what about Rickman? You know what he did to you this morning, don’t you? He made it look as though you were trying to renege. Hell, everyone in that hall thought you were trying to slip the country.’

Ballard rubbed his eyes. ‘I said something to Rickman just before the hearing opened, and he got it wrong, that’s all.’

‘That’s all? That’s not all – not by a thousand miles. A smart guy like that doesn’t get things wrong in a courtroom. If he got it wrong then he meant to get it wrong. What did you say to him, anyway?’

Ballard took out his wallet and extracted a piece of paper. ‘I was leaving the hotel this morning when I got this.’ He passed it to McGill. ‘My grandfather’s dead!’

McGill unfolded the cablegram and read it. ‘Ian, I’m sorry; I really am.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘This Harriet – is she your mother?’

‘Yes.’

‘She wants you to go home.’

‘She would,’ said Ballard bitterly.

‘And you showed this to Rickman?’

‘Yes.’

‘And he got up on his hind legs and, by inference, demonstrated that you are a coward. Hell, Ian; he’s not representing you! He’s representing the company.’

‘Six of one and half a dozen of the other.’

McGill regarded Ballard and slowly shook his head. ‘You really believe what the Chairman of the Commission said, don’t you? That all they want is to get at the truth. Well, that may be what Harrison thinks but it’s not what the public want. Fifty-four people died, Ian, and the public want a scapegoat. The President of your company knows …’

‘Chairman.’

McGill waggled his hand. ‘To hell with semantics. The Chairman of your company knows that, too, and he’s making goddam sure the company isn’t the goat. That’s why he’s employed a sharp cookie like Rickman, and if you think Rickman is acting for you then you’re out of your mind. If the company can get out from under by sacrificing you then that’s what they’ll do.’

He thumped the table. ‘I can write the scenario right now. “Mr Ballard is new to the company. Mr Ballard is young and inexperienced. It is only to be expected that so young a man should make unfortunate mistakes. Surely such errors of judgment may be excused in one so inexperienced.”’ McGill leaned back in his chair. ‘By the time Rickman is finished with you he’ll have everyone believing you arranged the goddam avalanche – and the Petersons and that snide lawyer of theirs will fall over themselves to help him.’

Ballard smiled slightly. ‘You have great powers of imagination, Mike.’

‘Oh, what the hell!’ said McGill disgustedly. ‘Let’s have another beer.’

‘My round.’ Ballard got up and went to the bar. When he came back he said, ‘So the old boy’s dead.’ He shook his head. ‘You know, Mike, it hit me harder than I thought it would.’

McGill poured more beer. ‘Judging by the way you talked about him, I’m surprised you feel anything at all.’

‘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.’

THE HEARING SECOND DAY

SEVEN

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.

‘The way the temperature goes. Future snow precipitation. An appreciable rise in wind speed wouldn’t help much, either.’

‘And the forecast is for more snow,’ said Ballard.

McGill said, ‘When you have a potential hazard like this you have to take precautions. Protecting the mine portal, for instance. There’s a steel construction called Wonder Arch which comes in useful. It was developed at Camp Century in Greenland specifically for this type of application. It’s used a lot in the Antarctic.’

‘Is it expensive?’ asked Dobbs. His voice was clouded with doubt.

McGill shrugged. ‘It depends on how much money you put against lives on the balance sheet.’ He turned to Cameron. ‘Joe, remember me asking if you’d heard of Granduc in British Columbia?’

Cameron looked up from the figures. ‘Yeah. I hadn’t.’

‘Granduc is remarkably like your mine here. They installed Wonder Arch – put in a covered way to the mine portal.’ He rubbed the side of his jaw. ‘It was like closing a stable door after the horse has gone; they put in the arch in 1966 after the avalanche of 1965 when twenty-six men died.’

There was a silence broken after a while by Cameron. ‘You make your point very clearly.’

Ballard said, ‘I’ll put it to the Board of Directors.’

‘That’s not all,’ said McGill. ‘You got to look at the situation in the long term. That slope is dangerous mostly because it’s been stripped of timber. It will have to be stabilized again, and that means building snow rakes. Good snow rakes cost sixty dollars a foot run – I doubt if you’d get away with under a million dollars.’

The sound of Dobbs’s suddenly indrawn breath was harsh.

‘Then there’s the snow deflection walls at the bottom,’ went on McGill inexorably. ‘That’s more – maybe even half a million. It’s going to cost a packet.’

‘The Board won’t stand for it,’ said Dobbs. He stared at Ballard. ‘You know we’re just paying our way now. They’re not going to put in all that extra capital for no increase in production. It just isn’t on.’

Quentin stirred. ‘Would you want to close down the mine?’

‘It’s a possibility,’ said Ballard. ‘But it’s not my decision.’

‘My people would have something to say about that. There’s a lot of jobs at stake.’ Quentin looked at McGill hostilely and threw out his hand. ‘And who’s to say he’s right? He comes busting in here with his tale of doom, but who the hell is he, anyway?’

Ballard straightened. ‘Let’s get one thing clear,’ he said. ‘As of yesterday Dr McGill became a professional consultant employed by this company to give us advice on certain problems. His qualifications satisfy me completely.’

‘You didn’t talk to me about this,’ said Dobbs.

Ballard gave him a level stare. ‘I wasn’t aware I had to, Mr Dobbs. You are so informed now.’

‘Does the Chairman know about this?’

‘He’ll know when I tell him, which will be very soon.’

Quentin was earnest. ‘Look, Mr Ballard; I’ve been listening carefully. There’s not been an avalanche, and your friend hasn’t said there’s going to be one. All he’s been talking about are potentials. I think the Board is going to need a lot more than that before they spend a million and a half dollars. I don’t think this mine is going to close – not on this kind of talk.’

‘What do you want?’ asked McGill. ‘Avalanche first – and protection later?’

‘I’m protecting the men’s jobs,’ said Quentin. ‘That’s what they put me in here for.’

‘Dead men don’t have jobs,’ said McGill brutally. ‘And while we’re at it, let’s get another thing quite clear. Mr Ballard has said that he has engaged me as a professional consultant, and that is quite true. But fundamentally I don’t give one good goddamn about the mine.’

‘The Chairman will be delighted to hear it,’ said Dobbs acidly. He looked at Ballard. ‘I don’t think we need carry on with this any more.’

‘Carry on, Mike,’ said Ballard quietly. ‘Tell them the rest. Tell them what’s really worrying you.’

McGill said, ‘I’m worried about the town.’

There was a silence for the space of ten heartbeats and then Cameron cleared his throat. ‘It’s snowing again,’ he said, not altogether inconsequentially.

‘That just about finished the meeting,’ said McGill. ‘It was decided that the mine management should consult with the town council that afternoon, if possible. Then Mr Ballard was to communicate by telephone with the Presi … Chairman of his company.’

Gunn had his hand up, and Harrison said, ‘Yes, Mr Gunn?’

‘May I question the witness, Mr Chairman?’ Harrison inclined his head, and Gunn proceeded. ‘Dr McGill, the meeting you have just described took place a long time ago, did it not?’

‘The meeting took place on the sixteenth of July. On the Friday morning.’

‘It is now December – nearly five months later. Would you say that you have a good memory, Dr McGill?’

‘About average.’

‘About average! I put it to you that you have a much better than average memory.’

‘If you say so.’

‘Indeed, I do say so. When I listened to your evidence – when you related the conversations of others ad verbatim – I was put in mind of a stage performance I saw quite recently in which a so-called memory man amazed an audience.’

‘Mr Gunn,’ interjected Harrison. ‘Irony and sarcasm may, or may not, have their place in a law court; they have certainly no place here. Please refrain.’

‘Yes, Mr Chairman.’ Gunn did not seem put out; he was aware that he had made his point. ‘Dr McGill, you have given evidence that Mr Quentin, the elected union leader at Hukahoronui mine, seemed – and I use the word advisedly – seemed to be more intent on filling the pockets of his comrades than in preserving their lives. Now, Mr Quentin is not here to defend himself – he was killed in the disaster at Hukahoronui – and since I represent the union I must defend Mr Quentin. I put it to you that your recollection of this meeting so long ago may be incorrect.’

‘No, sir; it is not incorrect.’

‘Come, Dr McGill; note that I said that your evidence may be incorrect. Surely there is no loss of face in admitting that you may be wrong?’

‘My evidence was correct, sir.’

‘To traduce a dead man when it is not necessary is not thought to be good manners, sir. No doubt you have heard the tag, “De mortuis nil nisi bonum.” ‘ Gunn waved his arm largely. ‘The good and wise men who caused this hall to be built saw fit to include cogent aphorisms in these windows to guide them in their deliberations. I draw your attention to the text in the windows just above your head, Dr McGill. It reads: “Be not a hypocrite in the sight of men, and talk good when thou speakest.”’

McGill was silent, and Gunn said, ‘Well, Dr McGill?’

‘I was not aware that I had been asked a question,’ said McGill quietly.

Harrison shifted uneasily on his seat and seemed about to interrupt, but Gunn waved his arm again. ‘If it is your claim to have a memory so much better than other men then I must accept it, I suppose.’

‘I have an average memory, sir. And I keep a diary.’

‘Oh!’ Gunn was wary. ‘Regularly?’

‘As regularly as need be. I am a scientist who investigates snow, which is an evanescent and ever-changing substance, so I am accustomed to taking notes on the spot.’

‘Are you saying that while that very meeting was in progress you were actually taking written notes of what was said?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Ha! Then a period of time must have elapsed between the meeting and when you wrote down your impressions. Is that not so?’

‘Yes, sir. Half an hour. I wrote up my diary in my bedroom half an hour after the meeting ended. I consulted my diary this morning before I came to this hearing to refresh my memory.’

‘And you still insist on your evidence as it relates to Mr Quentin?’

‘I do.’

‘Do you know how Mr Quentin died?’

‘I know very well how Mr Quentin died.’

‘No more questions,’ said Gunn with an air of disgust. ‘I am quite finished with this witness.’

McGill glanced at Harrison. ‘May I add something?’

‘If it has a bearing on what we are trying to investigate.’

‘I think it has.’ McGill looked up at the roof of the hall, and then his gaze swept down towards Gunn. ‘I also have been studying the texts in the windows, Mr Gunn, and one, in particular, I have taken to heart. It is in a window quite close to you, and it reads: “Weigh thy words in a balance lest thou fall before him that lieth in wait.”’

A roar of laughter broke the tension in the hall and even Harrison smiled, while Rolandson guffawed outright. Harrison thumped with his gavel and achieved a modicum of quiet.