There was a surprise witness, at least to me – old Jarvis appeared to give expert testimony. He told the coroner what manganese nodules were and even produced one to show what the things looked like. The coroner prodded him a bit about their value and Jarvis responded in his downright, damn-your-eyes way. But that was just for the record.

Then suddenly it was over. The coroner took little time to decide that death was due to justifiable manslaughter. He wound everything up with a pontifical speech to the effect that while an Englishman's home may be his castle, no man had the right to take the law into his own hands and that if a little more care had been taken, in his opinion, a death could have been averted. However what was done was done, and Mr Michael Trevelyan was free to leave the court without a stain on his character.

We all stood up when he swept out and there was a general drift to the doors. An official elbowed his way up to me and gave me a note. It was brief and to the point. 'See you at the Dorchester. Campbell.' I passed it to Geordie as he reached me to slap me heavily on the back. 'I hope this means what I think it means,' I said. 'I've got a lot to tell you.'

We drifted out with the crowd and were eventually deposited on the pavement. A lot of people I didn't know congratulated me on killing a man and getting away with it, some reporters had a lot of questions to ask, and at last I caught sight of the man I was looking for. I ran to catch up with him, Geordie behind me. It was Professor Jarvis.

He saw me coming, waved his stick and waited for me to join him.

'Well, that went off all right, my boy,' he said.

'You did your bit – thank you.'

'Damned fools,' he grumbled. 'Everyone knows that those nodules are basically worthless – not an economic proposition at all.'

'I wondered if you had a moment to talk to me – here, rather than at the Institute,' I asked him. There seemed to be no difficulty and we sat down on the low stone wall outside the courthouse, enjoying the thin watery sunshine.

'I have nothing to tell you, young man,' the Professor said. 'I made a few enquiries about that chap, Norgaard, but there's nothing doing. The feller seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth.'

'When was the last you heard of him?'

'About six, seven months ago – when he was with your brother. They were fossicking about in the islands round Tahiti.'

'When did Norgaard start working with Mark?' I asked.

'Now let me see. It must have been nearly two years ago, after Mark left that Canadian firm he was working for. Yes, that was it – after he had to leave the IGY project he went to Canada and was with that chap Campbell for over two years, then he left to join up with Norgaard. What they were doing I don't know; they didn't publish anything.'

His grasp of events was remarkable, I thought, and then seized on something he had said. 'What do you mean – had to leave the IGY?'

Jarvis actually looked embarrassed. 'Oh, I shouldn't have said that,' he mumbled.

'I'd like to know. It can't hurt Mark now.'

'It's bad form. De mortuis – and all that, don't you know.'

'Out with it,' I said. 'After all, it's all in the family.'

Jarvis regarded the tip of his highly polished shoe. 'Well, I never did get to the bottom of it – it was hushed up, you know – but apparently Mark fudged some of his results.'

'Faked his figures?'

'That's right. It was found out by sheer chance. Of course he had to leave. But we – the IGY agreed not to make any more of it, so he was able to get the job in Canada, after he resigned.'

'So that's why he left before it was over. I wondered about that. What was he working on at the time?'

Jarvis shrugged. 'I don't recall, but it certainly had to do with the underwater surveys. Manganese nodules, perhaps?' Not too shrewd a guess, all things considered; but I didn't like it. He went on, 'I never did like your brother. I never trustee him and the fact that he cooked his books didn't surprise me a bit.'

I said, That's all right – lots of people didn't like Mark. I wasn't too keen on him myself. And it wasn't the first time he rigged his results. He did the same at school.' And at university. Not to mention his personal life.

Jarvis nodded. 'I'm not surprised at that either. Still, my boy, I don't mistrust the whole Trevelyan family. You're worth ten of your brother, Mike.'

Thanks, Prof.,' I said warmly.

'Forget all this and enjoy your leave now. The South Atlantic is waiting for you when you return.'

He turned and strode away, jauntily waving his stick. I looked after him with affection; I thought he would be genuinely sorry to lose me if the deal with Campbell came off and I went to the South Pacific instead of the South Atlantic. He would once more angrily bewail the economic facts of life which drew researchers into industry and he would write a few acid letters to the journals.

I turned to Geordie. 'What do you make of that?'

'Norgaard vanished just about the same time that Mark kicked the bucket. I wonder if…'

'I know what you're thinking, Geordie. Is Norgaard still alive? I do hope to God Campbell comes through – I want to do some field work in the islands.'

'You had something to tell me,' he reminded me. But I had decided to save it up.

'I'll tell you and Campbell together. Come with me to see him.'*

Campbell was less crusty than at our first meeting. 'Well,' he said, as we entered his suite, 'I see you're not entirely a hardened criminal, Trevelyan.'

'Not a stain on my character. The coroner said so.' I introduced Geordie and the two big men sized one another up with interest. 'Mr Wilkins is willing to contribute a ship – and skipper her, too.'

Campbell said, 'I see someone has faith in your crazy story. I suppose that getting hurt added to your conviction.'

'What about you?' I asked.

He ignored this and asked what we would drink. 'We must celebrate a successful evasion of the penalty of the law,' he said, almost jovially. He ordered and we got down to business. I decided to keep the Kane episode to be revealed at the proper moment and first hear what Campbell had to say.

'I knew my hunch about your South Americans would work out,' he said. 'I've got a pretty good intelligence system – you have to in my line of work- and I find that Suarez-Navarro are fitting out a research ship in Darwin right at this moment. It's new business and new territory for them, so my guess is that they are heading your way.'

I looked at him blankly. That didn't mean a thing to me.

I think he enjoyed my lack of comprehension because he left me dangling for a while before elucidating. 'Suarez-Navarro is a South American mining house, active in several countries,' he said. 'I've tangled with them before – they're a crowd of unscrupulous bastards. Now, why would a mining house be fitting out an oceanographical research ship?'

'Nodules,' said Geordie succinctly.

'How unscrupulous are they?' I asked. 'Would they stoop to burglary?' I didn't mention murder.

Campbell folded his hands together. 'I'll tell you the story and let you judge for yourself. Once I had a pretty good set-up in South America, never mind just where. The mines were producing well and I ploughed a lot back in the interests of good labour relations. I had a couple of schools, a hospital and all the civilized trimmings. Those Indian miners never had it so good, and they responded well.

'Suarez-Navarro cast an eye on the operation and liked the look of it. They went about things in their own smelly way, though. They had a trouble-shooter, a guy called Ernesto Ramirez, whom they used for that type of operation. He pitched up, got at the government, greased a few palms, supported the Army, and then suddenly there was a new government – which promptly expropriated the mines in the interests of the national economy – or that's what they said. Anyway, I never got a cent out of it. They just took the lot and Ramirez vanished back into the hole they dug him out of.