The Seventh Scroll - Smith Wilbur - Страница 32
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below them. It was forty miles to the far wall of the canyon, but in the
brilliant rain-washed air it seemed so close that he could reach across
and touch it.
"A coincidence?"he wondered at last.
"Do you think so? A very strange and wonderful coincidence, then.
Pegasus in both Yorkshire and Gojam?
Do you accept that?"
"It doesn't make sense. The truck that hit you was stolen-'
"Was it?" she demanded. "Are we sure of that?"
"If it wasn't, then let's hear your ideas."
"If you were planning an assassination, would you rely on stealing a
truck conveniently left at a Little Chef for you?"
He shook his head, "Go on."
"Suppose you arranged for your own truck to be placed there for you, and
for your driver to report it stolen only after you had a good head start
on the police."
"It's possible," he agreed without enthusiasm.
"Whoever murdered Duraid, and made two further attempts to kill me,
obviously has considerable resources at his disposal. He is able to make
arrangements in Egypt and England. On top of that, he has the seventh
scroll in his possession. He has our notes and all our workings and
translations which point him clearly to this spot on the Abbay river.
Just suppose that he has control of a company like Pegasus - is there
any reason why he can't be here in Ethiopia, just as we are, right at
this moment?"
Nicholas was silent for a while. He picked up a stone from the ledge
beside him and tossed it out over the cliff.
They both watched it drop away, dwindling in size until it vanished in
the veils of spray far below where they sat.
Abruptly Nicholas stood up and reached for her hand to pull her to her
feet beside him. "Come on," he said.
"Where are we going?"
"Pegasus base camp. Let's go and have a chat to the site foreman."
Boris protested angrily and hurried to intervene when Nicholas climbed
into the Toyota and started the engine, "Where the hell do you think you
are going?, "Sight-seeing." Nicholas let in the clutch. "Back in an
hour."
"Hey, English, my truck!" He ran to catch up with them, but Nicholas
accelerated away.
"Charge me for the hire." fie grinned back at Boris in the rear-view
mirror. -off and followed the They reached the signposted turn side
track over the ridge. The Pegasus camp lay on the far side. Nicholas
braked to a halt on the crest of the rise and they studied it in
silence.
An area of about ten acres had been cleared and levelled. It was
surrounded by a barbed-wire security fence, with a single closed gate.
Three of the massive diesel trucks in their green and red livery were
parked in a rank inside the fence. There were also several smaller
vehicles and a tall mobile drilling rig in the line. The rest of the
yard was filled with prospecting equipment and stores. There were stacks
of drilling rods and steel core boxes, wooden crates of spares, and
several hundred forty-four-gallon drums of diesel and oil and drilling
mud. The drums and the stores were stacked with a neatness and sense of
good order that was startling in this wild and rocky landscape. just
inside the gate stood a small village of a dozen buildings made of
corrugated sheet sections, of the Quonset type. They too were set out in
a street of military precision.
"A big, well-organized outfit," Nicholas commented.
"Let's go down and see who is in charge."
There were two armed guards on the gate, dressed in the camouflage
uniform of the Ethiopian army. They were clearly surprised by the
arrival at the gate of the strange Land Cruiser, and when Nicholas
sounded his horn one of them came forward suspiciously with his AK,47
rifle at the ready.
"I want to speak to the manager here," Nicholas told him in Arabic, with
enough haughty authority to make the entry uncertain and uneasy.
The soldier grunted, went back and consulted his colleague, then lifted
the handset of the two-way radio and spoke earnestly into the
mouthpiece. There was a five minute delay after he finished speaking,
and then the door of the nearest Quonset building opened and a white man
came out.
He was dressed in khaki coveralls and a soft bush cap.
His eyes, covered by mirrored sunglasses, were set in a deeply tanned,
leathery face. His physique was short and chunky, and his sleeves were
rolled up over hairy, work thickened arms. After speaking a few words to
the guards at the gate he came out to the Toyota
"Yeah? What's going down here?" he demanded in Texan drawl, speaking
around the stub of an unlit cigar.
"The name is Quenton-Harper." Nicholas dismounted from the truck to
greet him, and held out his hand.
"Nicholas Quenton-Harper. How do you do?"
The American hesitated, and then took the hand as though he had been
offered an electric eel to squeeze.
"Helm," he said. "Jake Helm, from Abilene, Texas. I am the foreman
here." His hand was that of an artisan, with calloused palms and lumpy
scar tissue over the knuckles, and half moons of black grease under the
fingernails.
"Terribly sorry to worry you. I am having some trouble with my truck. I
wondered if you had a mechanic who could have a look at it for
me."Nicholas smiled winningly, but received no encouragement from the
man.
"Not company policy." He shook his head.
"I am prepared to pay for any-'
"Listen, buddy, I said no." Jake removed the cigar from his mouth and
examined it minutely.
"Your company - Pegasus. Can you tell me where your head office is
situated? Who is your managing director?"
"I am a busy man. You are wasting my time." Helm ,,returned the cigar to
his mouth and began to turn away.
"I will be hunting in this area over the next few weeks.
I would not like to endanger any of your employees with a stray shot.
Can you give me some idea of where you will be working?"
outfit here, mister. I don't
"I am running a prospecting give out news flashes on my movements. Beat
id'
He turned and walked to the gate and gave brusque orders to the guards
before marching back to his office building.
"Satellite disc on the roof," Nicholas remarked. "I wonder who our lad
Jake is speaking to at this very moment."
"Somebody in Texas?" Royan hazarded.
"Doesn't follow, necessarily, Nicholas demurred. Tega, is probably a
multinational. Just because Jake is one, doesn't mean his boss is Texan
also. Not a very instructive conversation, I am afraid." He started the
engine and Uturned the Toyota. "But if someone at Pegasus is the ugly
mixed up in this, he will recognize my name. We have given them notice
of our arrival. Let's see what we have flushed out of the bushes."
When they got back to the Dandera river falls, they found that Boris's
truck had arrived, the tents had been erected, and the chef had brewed
tea for them. Boris was less welcoming than his chef, and maintained a
sullen silence while Nicholas tried to placate him for commandeering his
truck.
It was only after his first vodka of the evening that he mellowed
sufficiently to speak again.
"The mules were supposed to be waiting for us here.
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