High Citadel / Landslide (52 page)

‘I think he
wanted
the Trinavants dead,’ said Mac flatly. ‘I think he took a chance. Remember, the survivor was in a bad way—you weren’t expected to live another twelve hours. If Matterson’s chance didn’t come off—if you survived as Frank Trinavant—then it would have been a mistake on his part, understandable in the circumstances. Hell, maybe he didn’t know himself which was which, but he took the chance and it paid off in a way that even he couldn’t expect. You survived but without memory—and he’d tagged you as Grant.’

‘He talked about blackmail,’ I said. ‘And from what you’ve just handed me, he had every justification for believing I would blackmail him—
if I am Grant.
It’s just the sort of thing a guy like Grant would do. But would Frank Trinavant blackmail him?’

‘No,’ said Clare instantly. ‘He wasn’t the type. Besides, it’s not blackmail to demand your own rights.’

‘Hell, this thing is biting its own tail,’ said Mac disgustedly. ‘If you
are
Grant you can’t blackmail him—you have no standing. So why is he talking about blackmail?’ He stared at me speculatively. ‘I think, maybe, he committed one illegal act—a big one—to which you were a witness, and he’s scared of it coming to light because it would knock the footing right out from under him.’

‘And this illegal act?’

‘You know what I mean,’ snapped Mac. ‘Let’s not be mealy-mouthed about it. Let’s come right out and say murder.’

We didn’t talk too much about it after that. Mac’s final statement was a bit too final, and we couldn’t speculate on it without any firm proofs—not out loud, that is. Mac took refuge in chores about the house and refused to say another word, but I noticed he kept a bright eye on me until I got tired of his silent questioning and went out to sit by the stream. Clare took the jeep and went into town on the pretext of buying new blankets and mattresses for Mac.

Mac had handed me the biggest problem I had ever had in my life. I thought back to the days when I was reborn in the Edmonton hospital and searched for any mental clue to my identity—as though I had never done so before. Nothing I found led to any positive result and I found I now had two possible pasts. Of the two I much preferred Trinavant; I had heard enough of John to be proud to be his son. Of course, if I did turn out to be Frank Trinavant, then complications would set in between me and Clare.

I tossed a stone in the stream and idly wondered how close the kinship was between Frank and Clare and could it possibly be a bar to marriage, but I assumed it wouldn’t be.

That short and ugly word which had been Mac’s final pronouncement had given us pause. We had discussed the possibility in vague terms and it had come to nothing as far as Matterson was concerned. He had his alibi—Mac himself.

I juggled the possibilities and probabilities around, thinking of Grant and Trinavant as two young men whom I might have known in the distant past but without any relationship to me. It was a technique Susskind had taught me to stop me getting too involved in Grant’s troubles. I got nowhere, of course, and gave up when Clare came back.

I camped in the woodland glade again that night because Clare had still not gone up to the Kinoxi Valley and the cabin had only two rooms. Again I had the Dream and the hot snow ran in rivers of blood and there was a jangle of
sound as though the earth itself was shattering, and I woke up breathless with the cold night air choking in my throat. After a while I built up the fire again and made coffee and drank it, looking towards the cabin where a gleam of light showed where someone was sitting up half the night.

I wondered if it was Clare.

Nothing much happened just after that. I didn’t make any move against Bull Matterson and McDougall didn’t push me. I think he realized I had to have time to come to terms with the problem he had handed me.

Clare went up to her cabin in the Kinoxi Valley, and before she went I said, ‘Maybe you shouldn’t have stopped me doing that survey on your land. I might have come across a big strike of manganese or something—enough to have stopped the flooding of the valley.’

She said slowly, ‘Suppose you found something now—would it still make a difference?’

‘It might—if it were a big enough find. The Government might favour a mining settlement rather than a dam; it would employ more people.’

‘Then why don’t you come and give the land a check?’ She smiled. ‘A last-ditch effort.’

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Give me a few days to get sorted out.’

I went prospecting but nowhere near the dam. In spite of Matterson’s assurance of safety, something might have stirred up, say, between me and Jimmy Waystrand—or those truckers, if I came across them—and I wanted no trouble until I had got things clear in my mind. So I fossicked about on the Crown lands to the west, not really looking for anything in particular and with my mind only half on the job.

After two weeks I went back to Fort Farrell, no more decided than I had been when I left. I was dreaming a lot of nights and that wasn’t doing me any good, either. The dreams were changing in character and becoming frighteningly real—burnt bodies strewn about an icy landscape, the crackle of flames reddening the snow and a jangling sound that was cruel in its intensity. When I got back to Mac’s cabin I was pretty washed-up.

He was concerned about me. ‘Sorry to have put this on you, son,’ he said. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.’

‘You did right,’ I said heavily. ‘It’s tough on me, Mac, but I can stand it. You know, it comes as quite a shock to discover you have a choice of pasts.’

‘I was a fool,’ Mac said bluntly. ‘Ten minutes’ thought and ten cents’ worth of understanding and I’d have known better. I’ve been kicking myself ever since I opened my big mouth.’

‘Forget it,’ I said.

‘But
you
won’t, though.’ He was silent for a while. ‘If you pulled out now and forgot the whole thing I wouldn’t think any the worse of you for it, boy. There’d be no recriminations from me—not like last time.’

‘I won’t do that,’ I said. ‘Too much has happened. Old Matterson has tried to scare me off, for one thing, and I don’t push easy. There are other reasons, too.’

He looked at me with a shrewd eye. ‘You haven’t finished thinking about this yet. Why don’t you give Clare’s land the once-over, like you promised. You need more time.’

He wasn’t fitted to the role of Cupid, but he meant well and it really wasn’t a bad idea, so a couple of days later I left for the North Kinoxi in the jeep. The road hadn’t got any better since my last trip, and I was more tired when the big cabin came in sight than if I’d walked all the way.

Waystrand came to meet me with his stiff, slow walk, and I asked, ‘Is Miss Trinavant around, Mr Waystrand?’

‘Walking in the woods,’ he said briefly. ‘You staying?’

‘For a while,’ I said. ‘Miss Trinavant wants me to do a survey.’ He nodded but said nothing. ‘I haven’t seen your son yet, so I haven’t been able to pass on your message.’

He shrugged heavily. ‘Wouldn’t make any difference, I suppose. You eaten?’

I shared some food with him and then did some more log-chopping while he looked on with approval at my improved handling of the axe. When I began to sweat I stripped off my shirt, and after a while he said, ‘Don’t want to be nosy, but was you chawed by a bear?’

I looked down at the cicatrices and shiny skin on my chest. ‘More like a Stutz Bearcat,’ I said. ‘I was in an auto accident.’

‘Oh,’ was all he vouchsafed, but a puzzled frown came on to his face. Presently he went away and I continued chopping.

Clare came back from the woods towards sunset and appeared glad to see me. She wanted to know if the Mattersons had made any moves, but merely nodded when I said that no move had been made by either side.

We had dinner in the big cabin, during which she asked me about the survey, so after dinner I got out the Government map and indicated what I was going to do and how I was going to go about it. She said, ‘Is there much chance of finding anything?’

‘Not much, I’m afraid—not from what I saw of the Matterson land in the south. Still, there’s always a chance; strikes have been made in the most unlikely places.’ I talked about that for quite a while and then drifted into reminiscences of the North-West Territories.

Suddenly Clare said, ‘Why don’t you go back, Bob? Why don’t you leave Fort Farrell? It’s not doing you any good.’

‘You’re the third person who has asked me to quit,’ I said. ‘Matterson, McDougall and now you.’

‘My reasons might be the same as Mac’s,’ she said. ‘But don’t couple me with Matterson.’

‘I know, Clare,’ I said. ‘I’m sorry. But I’m not going to quit.’

She knew finality when she heard it and didn’t press it any more. Instead, she said, ‘Can I come with you when you do the survey?’

‘Why not? It’s your land,’ I said. ‘You can keep a close eye on me so I don’t skip the hard bits.’

We arranged to leave early, but in fact we didn’t get away too soon the following morning. To begin with, I overslept which is something I hardly ever do. For the first time in nearly three weeks I slept soundly without dreaming and awoke refreshed but very late. Clare said she hadn’t the heart to wake me and I didn’t put up too much of a protest. That was why we were delayed long enough for unexpected, and unwelcome, visitors to drop from the sky.

I was in my room when I heard the helicopter and saw it settle lightly in the open space at the back. Howard Matterson and Donner got out and I saw Clare go forward to meet them. The rotor swished to a stop and the pilot dropped to the ground, so it looked as though Matterson intended to stay for longer than a few minutes.

There seemed to be an argument going on. Howard was jabbering nineteen to the dozen, with Donner putting in his two cents’ worth from time to time, while Clare stood with a stony face and answered monosyllabically. Presently Howard waved at the cabin and Clare shrugged. All three of them moved out of sight and I heard them talking in the big main room.

I hesitated, then decided it was none of my business. Clare knew the score about the lumber on her land and I knew she wouldn’t let Howard get away with anything. I continued to fill my pack.

I could hear the rumble of Howard’s voice, with the lighter, colourless interjections of Donner. Clare appeared to be saying little, and I hoped most of it consisted of ‘No.’ Presently there was a tap on the door and she came in. ‘Won’t you join us?’ Her lips were compressed and the pink spots on her cheeks were danger signals I had seen before.

I followed her into the main room and Howard scowled and reddened when he saw me. ‘What’s he doing here?’ he demanded.

‘What’s it to you?’ Clare asked. She indicated Donner. ‘You’ve brought your tame accountant. This is
my
adviser.’ She turned to me. ‘They’ve doubled their offer,’ she said in an acid voice. ‘They’re offering half a million dollars for the total felling rights on five square miles of my land.’

‘Have you put up a counter-offer?’ I asked.

‘Five million dollars.’

I grinned at her. ‘Be reasonable, Clare: the Mattersons wouldn’t make a profit out of that. Now, I’m not suggesting you split the difference, but I think that if you subtracted their offer from yours there might be a basis for a sale. Four and a half million bucks.’

‘Ridiculous,’ said Donner.

I swung on him. ‘What’s ridiculous about it? You know you’re trying to pull a fast one.’

‘You keep out of this.’ Howard was fuming.

‘I’m here by invitation, Howard,’ I said. ‘Which is more than you are. Sorry to have spoiled your con game, but there it is. You know this land hasn’t been cut over for twelve years and you know the amount of mature timber that’s ready for the taking. Some of those big trees would go nicely in the mill, wouldn’t they? I think it’s a reasonable offer, and my advice to you is to take it or leave it.’

‘By God, we’ll leave it,’ he said tightly. ‘Come on, Donner.’

I laughed. ‘Your father isn’t going to like that. He’ll have your guts for garters, Howard. I doubt if he ever ruined a deal by being too greedy.’

That stopped him. He glanced at Donner, then said, ‘Mind if we have a private conversation?’

‘Go ahead,’ said Clare. ‘There’s plenty of room outside.’

They went out, and Clare said, ‘I hope you’re right.’

‘I’m right, but Howard might be obstinate. I think he’s a man who sets himself on a course and doesn’t deviate. He isn’t flexible, and flexibility is very important to a businessman. I’m afraid he might make a fool of himself.’

‘What do you mean?’

I said, ‘He’s so set on making a killing here that it might blind him to a reasonable deal—and I don’t think Donner can control him. That might bitch things up. Will you leave the dickering to me?’

She smiled. ‘You seem to know what you’re doing.’

‘Maybe. But the biggest deals I’ve made so far have been with used car dealers—I may be out of my league here. I never dickered in millions before.’

‘Neither have I,’ she said. ‘But if what I hear about used car dealers is correct, they’re as tricky to deal with as anyone else. Try to imagine Howard as Clarry Summerskill.’

‘That’s an insult to Clarence,’ I said.

Howard and Donner came back. Howard said heartily, ‘Well, I think we can sort this thing out. I’ll disregard the insults I’ve been offered so far by Boyd and make you a new offer. Clare, I’ll double up again and make it a round million dollars—I can’t say fairer than that.’

She looked at him coldly. ‘Four and a half.’

Donner said in his precise voice, ‘You’re being too rigid, Miss Trinavant.’

‘And you’re being too free and easy,’ I said. I grinned at Howard. ‘I have a proposition. Let’s get Tanner, the Forestry Service man, up here to do an independent
valuation. I’m sure Clare will abide by his figure if you will.’

I hadn’t any fear that Matterson would go for that, and he didn’t. His voice sounded like the breaking of ice-floes. ‘There’s no need to waste time on fooleries. The dam is nearly finished—we close the sluices in two weeks. In less than four months this land will be flooded and we have to get the lumber out before then. That’s cutting things very fine and it’ll take every man I’ve got to do it in time—even if we start now.’

‘So make a deal now,’ I said. ‘Come up with a sensible offer.’

He gave me a look of intense dislike. ‘Can’t we be reasonable, Clare?’ he pleaded. ‘Can’t we talk without this character butting in?’

‘I think Bob’s doing all right,’ she said.

Donner said quickly, ‘A million and a half.’

‘Four and a half,’ said Clare stolidly.

Howard made a noise expressive of disgust, and Donner said, ‘We keep coming up, Miss Trinavant, but you make no effort to meet us.’

‘That’s because I know the value of what I’ve got.’

I said, ‘All right, Donner; we’ll come down to meet you. Let’s say four and a quarter. What’s your counter-offer?’

‘For Christ’s sake!’ said Howard. ‘Has he the right to negotiate on your behalf, Clare?’

She looked him in the eye. ‘Yes.’

‘To hell with that,’ he said. ‘I’m not dealing with a brokendown geologist who hasn’t two cents to rub together.’

‘Then the deal’s off,’ she said, and stood up. ‘If you’ll excuse us, we have work to do.’ I never admired her more than I did then; she was putting all her faith in the negotiating ability of a man she hardly knew. But it sure made me sweat.

Donner cut in quickly, ‘Let’s not be hasty.’ He nudged Howard. ‘Something can be worked out here. You asked me
for my counter-offer, Boyd. Here it is: two million dollars flat—and not a cent more.’

Donner appeared quite calm but Howard was ready to go off pop. He had come here expecting to get a five-milliondollar property for a mere half-million, and now it was his turn to be squeezed he didn’t like it one little bit. But for a moment I wondered if I was making a mistake. My estimate was on my own assessment—which could be wrong because I wasn’t a lumberman—and on the word of old Waystrand, a man who did chores around the house.

I felt sweat trickling down my back as I said, ‘Nothing doing.’

Howard exploded. ‘All right,’ he shouted. ‘That’s an end to it. Let’s get the hell out of here, Donner. You’ve a fool for an adviser, Clare. Boyd couldn’t advise a man lost in the desert how to take a drink of water. If you want to take up our final offer, you know where to find me.’

He started to walk out. I glanced at Donner, who obviously didn’t want to leave, and I knew I was right, after all. Donner was ready to carry on wheeling and dealing, so therefore he was ready to make another offer; but he’d lost control of Howard as I knew he would. Howard, lost in his rage, wouldn’t let him continue, and what I had been afraid of was about to happen.

I said, ‘Now is the time to separate the men from the boys. Get old Waystrand in here, Clare.’

She looked at me in surprise, but obediently went outside and 1 heard her calling for him. Howard also stopped and looked at me uncertainly, fidgeting on one leg; and Donner eyed me speculatively.

Clare came back, and I said, ‘I warned you, Howard, that your old man wouldn’t like this. If you pass up a good deal in which you can make a damned good profit I don’t think he’ll let you stay as boss of the Matterson Corporation. What do you say, Donner?’

Donner smiled thinly. ‘What would you expect me to say?’

I said to Clare, ‘Get pen and paper. Write a formal letter to Bull Matterson offering him the felling rights for four and a quarter million. He’ll beat you down to four and still make a cool million bucks profit. And tell him you’d rather deal with a man, not a boy. Waystrand can take the letter today.’

Clare went to the writing-desk and sat down. I thought Howard was going to take a swing at me but Donner tugged at his coat and drew him back. They both retreated and Donner whispered urgently. I had a good idea of what he was saying, too. If that letter was ever delivered to old Bull it would be an admission on Howard’s part that he’d fallen down on a big job. Already, from what I had seen, the old man held him in contempt and had even given him Donner as a nursemaid. Bull Matterson would never forgive his son for putting a million dollars in jeopardy.