The Snow Tiger / Night of Error. Desmond Bagley

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      ‘And the police – were they notified?’

      ‘That was a bit difficult. Arthur Pye was away; he was up at the head of the valley investigating a case of sheep worrying.’

      ‘Who is Arthur Pye?’

      ‘Our policeman. Hukahoronui is only a small place – we just had the one policeman.’

      ‘Do you mean to tell me that when you discussed notifying the police it was your intention to tell Constable Pye?’ said Smithers incredulously.

      ‘Well, he’d know what to do about telling his superiors,’ said Peterson defensively.

      ‘So nobody outside Hukahoronui knew of the situation?’

      ‘I suppose that is correct.’

      ‘And in Hukahoronui the knowledge was confined to a handful of people.’

      ‘Yes, sir.’

      Smithers consulted his note-pad. ‘You say that when it was decided to get a second opinion on Dr McGill’s diagnosis of the situation nobody knew whom to consult.’ He lifted his head and looked at Peterson with an air of disbelief. ‘Did no one on the council read the directives which were sent out by my Ministry?’

      ‘We get a lot of stuff from the Government.’ Peterson shrugged. ‘I didn’t read it all myself.’

      ‘Apparently no one on the council read it.’ Smithers took a deep breath. ‘Mr Peterson, you were a councillor and a responsible official. Would you not agree that preparations for a crisis in your community were conspicuous by their absence? I am not speaking of avalanches only – we do live in an earthquake prone country, a major reason for the existence of the Ministry of Civil Defence.’

      ‘May I object?’ said Lyall quickly.

      Harrison looked up from his notes. ‘What is your objection?’

      ‘I would like to point out that the township of Hukahoronui was relatively new and the population was largely composed of recent immigrants to the valley. In such a situation the degree of community spirit would naturally be less than in a longer established community.’

      ‘Mr Lyall, is that your objection? You seem to be answering for the witness.’

      ‘It is not my objection, Mr Chairman. My objection is that it is improper for Mr Smithers to ask such a loaded question of Mr Peterson. He is usurping the function of this Commission, which is to decide whether the state of affairs implicit in his question was actually the case.’

      ‘A thin point, but valid nevertheless,’ conceded Harrison. ‘But it would have come better with the accompanying speech of extenuation. Mr Smithers, your last question was out of order. Have you any further questions?’

      ‘None that I would care to ask this witness,’ said Smithers curtly.

      ‘Then you may step down, Mr Peterson, on the understanding that you may be recalled.’

      Peterson left the witness chair with an air of relief, and Harrison bent forward to have a word with Reed. He then sat back in his chair, and said, ‘Mr Cameron, the engineer of the Hukahoronui Mining Company, has been hospitalized for many months due to the injuries he received in the disaster. However, he has notified the Commission that he feels well enough to give evidence at this time and he is now present. Will you come forward, Mr Cameron?’

      There was a low murmur as Cameron limped across the hall leaning heavily on the arm of a male nurse. He had lost a lot of weight and was now almost emaciated; his cheeks were sunken and his hair, pepper and salt at the time of the avalanche, was now quite white. He looked an old man.

      He sat in the witness chair and the male nurse drew up another chair behind him. Reed said, ‘What is your full name?’

      ‘Joseph McNeil Cameron.’

      ‘And your occupation, Mr Cameron?’

      ‘I was a mining engineer,’ said Cameron flatly. ‘Specifically for the Hukahoronui Mining Company at the material times under investigation by this Commission.’ His voice was strong if slow.

      ‘Mr Cameron,’ said Harrison, ‘if at any time you feel unable to continue, please do not hesitate to say so.’

      ‘Thank you, Mr Chairman.’

      ‘I understand that you have evidence to give about the events of the evening of the day you had the meeting with the council. That would be the Saturday evening, would it not?’

      ‘Yes, sir,’ said Cameron. ‘There was a dinner-dance at the Hotel D’Archiac that night. I had invited Mr Ballard and Dr McGill to be my guests. My daughter, Stacey, was also present – she was on vacation from the States at that time and was due to go back the following week. There was a certain amount of table-hopping during the dinner and it was then I learned that the mayor had not made the telephone calls. That, combined with a new and most disturbing report from Dr McGill, worried all of us very much.’

      ‘Could you go into that in more detail?’ said Harrison.

      ‘Why, yes. We were just starting dinner …’

      McGill inspected the menu. ‘Colonial goose,’ he said. ‘That sounds good.’

      Ballard chuckled. ‘Don’t expect poultry.’

      ‘I was going to order that,’ said Stacey Cameron. She was a tall, dark girl with typical American svelte good looks. McGill had measured her with a knowledgeable eye and classed her as a long-stemmed American beauty, Californian variety. She said, ‘What is it if it isn’t a bird?’

      ‘A Texas nightingale isn’t a bird, either, honey,’ said Cameron. ‘It’s a donkey. This is a similar New Zealand joke.’

      Stacey was horrified. ‘You mean it’s horse meat?’

      ‘No,’ said Ballard. ‘It’s hogget and stuffing.’

      ‘Now you’ve lost me,’ complained McGill. ‘What’s hogget?’

      ‘Midway between lamb and mutton. There are millions of sheep in New Zealand and just about as many ways of cooking the animal. Colonial goose is a colonial joke, but it’s not bad.’

      ‘A trap for the unwary tourist,’ commented McGill. ‘Talking of that, when are you going back to the States, Stacey?’

      ‘Just ten days left,’ she said with a sigh.

      ‘I’ve been trying to talk her into staying,’ said Cameron.

      ‘Why don’t you?’ Ballard asked her.

      ‘I’d like to,’ she said regretfully. ‘If only to look after this crazy man.’ She leaned over and patted her father’s hand. ‘But I have a boss back in San Francisco who’s depending on me – I wouldn’t want to let him down.’

      Cameron said, ‘No one is indispensable. How long would it take you to cut free?’

      She СКАЧАТЬ