been roughed up after death. Blake said Finlayson had been struck by a bag of damp salt. His neck smelled of salt all right, but it could have been rubbed on during the night, after the body had been brought back up to the room. If he had been coshed, the vertebrae would have been depressed or broken.'
Mackenzie said, 'Obvious question ? were they?'
'I don't know. They looked okay to me. But Dr. Parker will know.'
'Dr. Parker?'
'Works along with the Anchorage police in a forensic capacity. Struck me as a very bright old boy.
My request wasn't too well received at first. Like yourselves, he regarded the concept of a second autopsy as unprecedented or unconstitutional or whatever. He read Blake's death certificate and seemed to think it perfectly in order.'
'But you persuaded him to the contrary?'
'Not exactly. He promised nothing. But he seemed interested enough to do something.'
Brady said, 'You are a persuasive cuss, George.'
Dermott paused reflectively. 'It may be nothing, or it may be another straw in the wind ? but Dr. Parker has never heard of Dr. Blake.'
Brady resumed his favorite steeple-fingered pontificating attitude. 'You're aware that Alaska is more than half the size of Western Europe?'
'I'm also aware that in Western Europe there must be a hundred million people. In Alaska, a few hundred thousand. I'd be surprised, if, outside the few hospitals, there are more than sixty or seventy doctors, and a veteran like Parker would be bound to know or know of them all.'
Brady unsteepled his fingertips and said, 'There is hope for you. An immediate investigation into Doctor Blake's antecedents would appear to be in order.'
'Immediate,' Mackenzie agreed. 'Morrison's the man for that. Wouldn't it be interesting, too, to have a run- down on the man who appointed or recommended Blake to this post?'
'It would,' Dermott said. 'And it would certainly narrow the field a bit. I wonder. You remember just after we arrived here asking whether there were any ideas about the type of weapon used on Bronowski, and Morrison said ? I think I quote him accurately ? 'Dr. Blake says he's no specialist in criminal acts of violence'?'
Brady nodded.
'So. This morning, when I was with him in Finlayson's room discussing the reasons for the man's death, he mentioned in an off-hand way that he used to be an expert in the forensic field. Obviously, he said it to lend credence to his diagnosis. But it was a slip, all the same. One time or the other, he was lying.'
Dermott looked at Brady and asked, 'Your agents in New York who are investigating Bronowski's security firm there ? they aren't, shall we say, exactly burning up the track. Give them a nudge?'
'Negative. You said yourself that an open line…'
'Who's talking about an open line? We do it through Houston, in your code.'
'Huh! That damn code. You encode any message you like and authorize it in my name.'
Mackenzie winked unobtrusively, but Dermott ignored him and began to spell out the message to the telephone operator. It said much for his mastery of a code which its inventor found insupportably burdensome that he encoded the words straight out of his head, without having to make a prior transcript.
He had barely finished when a knock on the door announced the arrival of Hamish Black. The pencil moustache on the Alaskan general manager was as immaculately trimmed as ever, the central parting of the hair still apparently drawn by ruler, the eyeglass so securely anchored that it looked as if it could have ridden out a hurricane. He still dressed in pure City Accountant, first class. At that moment, however, there was a difference in his general demeanour: he looked like a first-class accountant who had just stumbled across proof of unmistakable and gross embezzlement in the books of his favorite client. Yet he maintained his cool ? or cold.
'Good evening, gentlemen.' He was a specialist in wintry smiles. 'I hope I do not intrude, Mr. Brady?'
'Come in, come in.' Brady was affability itself, a sure sign that he didn't care too much for his visitor. 'Make yourself at home.' He glanced around the cramped confines of his room and at the already occupied chairs. 'Well ? '
'Thank you, I'll stand. I shall not detain you for long.'
'A drink? One of my incomparable rum drinks? How about a cigar?'
'Thank you. I neither smoke nor drink.' The minuscule twitch of the left-hand corner of his upper lip clearly indicated his opinion of those who did. 'I have come here because in my capacity of general manager of Sohio/BP I felt it my duty to ask how much progress you have made in your investigations to date.'
Dermott said, 'What have we found out so far? Well ? '
'Will you please be quiet, sir. I was addressing ? '
'George!' Brady made a downward placatory movement of the hand toward a Dermott who was already halfway out of his seat. He looked coldly at Black. 'We are not employees of yours, Mr. Black. We are not even retained by you, but directly by your head office in London. I suggest that if you want to leave this room the way you entered it, you watch your language.'
Black's lips had disappeared somewhere. 'Sir! I am not accustomed ? '
'Okay, okay. We all know that. You're obviously in a hostile mood. Our progress so far? Not much. Would there be anything else?'
Black was clearly taken aback. It is difficult for an old-time man-of-war to attack when the wind has been taken out of its sails.
'So you admit ? '
'No admission. We're just making a statement. Can we be of further help?'
'Indeed you can. You can explain to me the justification for your staying on here. The firm can scarcely afford the fees you seem likely to charge, if it gets no advantage. You have achieved nothing, and seem unlikely to achieve anything. You investigate industrial sabotage, specifically oil-flow interruption. There is, I suggest, a considerable difference between the spilling of oil and the spilling of blood. One cannot but suspect but that you are out of your depth and that events are beyond your control. One further suspects that the investigation should be left to those qualified to investigate criminal matters ? the FBI and the Alaskan State Police.'
'We'd be interested to know what they've found out. Or don't you feel free to tell us?'
Black compressed his lips still tighter. Mackenzie said, 'May I have a word, Mr. Brady?'
'Certainly, Donald.'
'Mr. Black. Your attitude here is singularly reminiscent of the one you adopted when first we met you. Have you the power to make us leave?'
'Yes.'
'Permanently?'
'No.'
'Why not?'
'You know very well why not. London head office would reinstate you.'
'Possibly with the qualification that if any such situation arose again it would be the general manager, Alaska, who would be required to leave.'
'I couldn't really say.'
'I can. Or didn't you know that Mr. Brady is a close personal friend of the chairman of your company?'
From the way that Black touched his collar, it was clear that this was news to him. From the way Jim Brady experienced a sudden, suppressed difficulty in swallowing a mouthful of daiquiri, it was clear that it was news to him also.
'To return to your earlier attitude, Mr. Black,' Mackenzie persisted, 'on that occasion Mr. Dermott said he thought you might have something to hide. Mr. Brady suggested you were being unduly secretive and had ? what was it again? ? some undisclosed and possibly discreditable reason for choosing to obstruct the best interests of your company. Reasonable requests you regarded as being preposterous. Finally, as I recall, Mr. Dermott said that you were either standing on your high horse as general manager, Alaska, and were above such petty annoyances, or that you were concealing something you didn't want us to know about.'
Black was possibly a shade or two paler, but his pallor could well have been caused by anger. He reached for the door handle.
'This is intolerable! I refuse to be the subject of character assassination.'
