'He then branched out into the fields of early plastics and early ball-point pens. Smith was never an innovator — he was and remains a take-over specialist and a share manipulator of genius. Both the publishing and the industrial sides of his businesses expanded at a remarkable speed and within ten years he was, by any standards, a very wealthy man.'
Hamilton said: 'He couldn't have been without the odd cruzeiro to begin with.'
'Agreed. Expansion on a scale such as Smith's must have called for a great deal of capital.'
'And the source of capital is unknown?'
'Totally. But that's nothing to hold against any man. In this country — as in many others — we don't care to enquire too closely into those things.
'Now we come to Tracy. He is indeed the general manager of Smith's publication division. Very tough, very able, nothing known about him in the criminal line, which could mean that he's either honest or very clever. The best you can say of him is that he's a soldier of fortune. The police are certain that the bulk of his activities are illegal — diamonds have an odd habit of disappearing when he's in the neighbourhood — but he's never been arrested far less convicted. Serrano is a small-time crook, not too bright and a fearful coward.'
'He can't be all that cowardly if he ventures alone into the rain-forests of the Mato Grosso. Not many white people would.'
'That thought, I admit, has also occurred to me. I'm merely passing on reported reputation, accuracy not guaranteed. Now, Heffner. Heffner's the joker. Wouldn't recognise a camera if he tripped over one. Well known to the New York police. Associated with crimes of violence and alleged gangland killings, but he's always beaten the rap. Not too surprising really — no police in any country are going to come over all zealous and excited when one hoodlum dispatches another. Curious fellow. Usually well spoken and civilised enough — look at those pillars of society, the Mafia bosses — but the veneer vanishes when he gets next to a bottle of bourbon. And he has a weakness for bourbon.'
'And all this leaves Smith unaffected?'
'Nothing known against him, as I said, but you can't associate with characters like Hiller, Heffner and Tracy without some tar rubbing off. Could well be the other way round, of course.' He looked up as a knock came at the door. 'Come in, come in.'
Ramon and Navarro entered. The twins were clad in khaki suits and smiling cheerfully. Diaz looked at them and winced.
'The famous Detective-Sergeant Herera and the famous Detective-Sergeant Herera. Or infamous. You are far from home, gentlemen.'
'Senor Hamilton's fault, sir.' Ramon spread his hands apologetically. 'He's always leading us astray.'
'Mary's little lambs. Ah. Major.'
A young officer entered and unrolled on the table a map of Southern Brazil. It was marked with legends of varying kinds. Differently coloured flags in circles and squares indicated different tribes, races and languages. Other symbols indicated the state of hostility or friendliness of the tribes.
The major said: 'This is the most up-to-date picture the Indian Protection Service can give you. There are some places, you understand, where even the Service do not care to investigate too closely. Most of the tribes are friendly — pacified, if you like. Some are hostile. Nearly always the white man's fault. A very few cannibal tribes. Those are known.'
'And to be avoided, of course. The Chapate, Horenas and Muscias especially.'
Hamilton pointed at a town on the map and looked at Diaz. 'Corrientes. Smith has a hovercraft there — for obvious reasons. It's at the junction of the Parana and Paraguay rivers and he must be pretty sure the Lost City lies near the head-waters of one of those. I'm going up the Paraguay. I don't know it well, there may be bad rapids for all I know, but the helicopter can help if there are.'
Diaz said: 'Your friend has a helicopter?'
'My friend, as you call him, has got everything. This is a giant — a Sikorsky Skycrane. Well enough named — it can just about lift any damn thing. We'll base the helicopter at Asuncion. The hovercraft can go up in three stages — to either Puerto Casado or Puerto Sastre in Paraguay, then into Brazil to Corumba then finally to Cuiaba. From there the helicopter can airlift it to Rio da Morte.'
'And you would like to have some units of the Federal army exercising near Cuiaba, is that it?'
'If it can be arranged.'
'That has already been done.'
'I am in your debt, Colonel Diaz.'
'It would be more accurate to say that we are in your debt. If, that is to say —'
'
Diaz said: 'You won't believe this, but it will even take pictures if you wish.'
Hamilton smiled but without humour. 'I don't think I'll be indulging in any photography this time out. What's the radio transmitting range?'
'Five hundred kilometres.'
'Enough. Waterproof?'
'Naturally. You leave tomorrow?'
'No. We have to get provisions and jungle gear and fly them to Cuiaba. We must get the hovercraft on the move. More important, though, I must go ahead and check on our friend Mr Jones.'
'Back to the Colony?'
'Back to the Colony.'
Diaz said slowly: 'You are an extraordinarily persistent man, Mr Hamilton. God knows you've every right to be.' He shook his head. 'I greatly fear for the health of your travelling companions in your forthcoming expedition.'
Hamilton had rejoined his travelling companions-to-be. Outside the uncurtained windows of the Villa Haydn's drawing-room the sky was dark: the room itself was brightly but not harshly lit by the light from the three crystal chandeliers. There were nine people in the room, most of them standing, most of them with aperitif glasses in their hands. Present were Hamilton, the twin Sergeants Herera, Smith and his entourage. Heffner, to whom Hamilton had just been introduced, was slightly flushed of face, slightly loud of voice and was sitting on an arm of the chair Maria was occupying. Tracy was regarding him with disfavour.
Smith said to Hamilton: 'I must say your heavenly twins, as you call them, have an air of competence about them.'
'They're not much at home in drawing-rooms. But in the jungle, yes. They're good. Squirrel-hunter's eyes.'
'Meaning?'
'Either of them, with his rifle, can hit a playing-card at a hundred yards. Most people can't even see a card at that distance.'
'That meant to sound intimidating, threatening?'
'Neither. Reassuring. Very useful accomplishment when wild boars or alligators or head-hunters or cannibals come at you. Let's not confuse this coming trip with a Sunday school picnic.'
'I'm aware of that.' Smith was trying to sound patient. 'Well, your plan sounds reasonable. We leave in a couple of days?'
'More like a week. I repeat, no picnic: you don't go dashing off into the Amazonian rain-forest at a couple of hours' notice, especially when you are going to be passing through hostile territory — and, believe me, we will be. We have to allow several days for the hovercraft to get up to Cuiaba — we don't know what difficulties it might encounter. Then we have to get all our provisions and equipment and fly them over to Cuiaba. At least, you will. I have some business to attend to first.', Smith raised an eyebrow. He was very good at raising eyebrows. 'What business?'
'Sorry.' Hamilton didn't sound sorry. 'Where can one hire a helicopter in this city?'
Smith took a deep breath then clearly made up his mind to ignore the outright rebuff. 'Well, you know I have this freight Sikorsky —'
'That lumbering giant? No thank you.'
'I have a smaller one. And a pilot.'
'Again, no thanks. Tracy's not the only one who can fly a helicopter.'
Smith looked at him in silence. His face was without expression but it was not difficult to guess what he was thinking: it would have been perfectly in keeping with Hamilton's secretive nature, his policy of never letting his left hand know what his right was doing, to have flown his own helicopter over the Lost City, so that no other person could share his knowledge. At last Smith said: 'Gracious, aren't you? You don't see a little friction arising when we set off on this search?'
Hamilton shrugged indifferently. 'It isn't a search. I know where I'm going. And if you think some friction is going to arise, then why don't you leave behind those liable to give rise to friction? It's a matter of indifference to me who comes along.'
'I'll decide that, Hamilton.'
'Will you, now?' Again the same indifferent, infuriating shrug. 'I don't think you've quite got the picture yet.'
It was significant of Smith's perturbation that he actually went to the bar and poured another drink for himself. Normally, indeed invariably, he would have summoned his butler to perform such menial tasks. He returned to Hamilton and said: 'Another point. You got your own way about making the plans — but we haven't yet decided who's going to be in charge of our little expedition, have we?'
'I have. I am.'
Smith's impassive air deserted him. He looked every inch the bulti-millionaire he was reputed to be.
'I repeat, Hamilton, I'm the paymaster.'
'The ship-owner pays his captain. Who's in charge at sea? Even more importantly, who's in charge in the jungle? You wouldn't last a day without me.'
There was a sudden silence in the room. The tension between the two men was all too obvious. Heffner rose from the arm of the chair, lurched once and then crossed to where the two men were standing. The light of battle was in his truculent and bloodshot eyes.
'But, boss! You don't seem to understand.' Heffner didn't speak the words, he sneered them. 'This is the intrepid explorer himself. The one and only Hamilton. Haven't you heard? Hamilton is always in charge.'
Hamilton glanced briefly at Heffner then at Smith. 'This is the kind of irritant I mean. Born to give trouble, bound to give rise to friction. What function does he perform?'
'My chief staff photographer.'
'Looks the artistic type. He coming along?'
'Of course he is.' Smith's tone was glacial. 'Why on earth do you think Mr Tracy and I brought him down here?'
'I thought maybe he had to leave some place in a hurry.'
Heffner took a step closer. 'What does that mean, Hamilton?'
'Nothing, really. I just thought that maybe your friends in the New York police department were beginning to take too close an interest in you.'
Heffner was momentarily taken aback, then he took another menacing step forward. 'I don't know what the hell you mean. You wouldn't think of stopping me, would you, Hamilton?'
'Stopping you from coming along, dear me, no.'
Ramon looked at Navarro. Both men winced.
'Amazing,' Heffner said. 'All you require is twenty pounds over a man to make him see it your way.'
'Provided, of course, that you're half-way sober by that time.'
Heffner gazed at him in alcoholic disbelief then swung a round-house right at Hamilton's head. Hamilton moved inside it and brought up his own right in a wicked jab as Heffner's fist swept harmlessly by his head. Grey-faced and doubled over, Heffner sank to his knees, his hands clutching his midriff.
Ramon said thoughtfully: 'I do believe, Senor Hamilton, that he's half-way sober already.'
'A short way with mutineers, eh?' Smith was unmoved by the plight of his trusty chief photographer, and his irritation had given way to curiosity. 'You seem to know something about Heffner?'
'I read the occasional New York paper,' Hamilton said. 'Bit late when I get them, mind you, but that hardly matters as Heffner's activities covet a fair period. What the Americans call a scoff-law Suspected involvement in various crimes of violence, even gangland killings. He's cleverer than he looks, which I don't believe, or he has a clever lawyer. Anyway, he's always beaten the rap so far. It is impossible, Mr Smith, that you had no inkling of this.'
'I confess that there have been stories, rumours. I discount them. Two things. He knows his job and a man is innocent until proved guilty.' Smith paused and went on: 'You know anything to my detriment?'
'Nothing. Everybody knows your life is an open book. A man in your position can't afford to have it otherwise.'
'Me?' said Tracy.
'I don't want to hurt your feelings but I never heard of you until today.'
Smith glanced down casually at a still prostrate Heffner, as if seeing him for the first time, and rang a bell. The butler entered. His face remained expressionless at the sight of the man on the floor: it was not difficult to imagine that he had seen such things before.
'Mr Heffner is unwell,' Smith said. 'Have him taken to his quarters. Dinner is ready?'
'Yes, sir.'
As they left the drawing-room Maria took Hamilton's arm. In a quiet voice she said: 'I wish you hadn't done that.'
'Don't tell me I've unwittingly clobbered your fiancé?'
'My fiancé! I can't stand him. But he has a long memory — and a bad reputation.'
Hamilton patted her hand. 'Next time I'll turn the other cheek.'
She snatched her hand away and walked quickly ahead of him.
Dinner over, Hamilton and the twins left in the black Cadillac. Navarro said admiringly: 'So now Heffner is labelled in their minds as your bad apple in the barrel while Smith, Tracy, Hiller and for all I know Serrano think that they are the driven snow. You really are a fearful liar, Senor Hamilton.'
'One really has to be modest about such things. As in all else practice makes perfect.'
The helicopter cabin was dimly lit even although the precaution had been taken of pulling black drapes across the windows. Hamilton, Navarro and Ramon were having their evening meal of cold meat, bread, beer and soda — the beer for Hamilton, soda for the twins.
Ramon shivered theatrically. 'I don't think I much care for this place.'
'Not many people do,' Hamilton said. 'But it suits Brown — alias Mr Jones — and his friends well enough. Defensively speaking, it's probably the most impregnable place in South America. Years ago I traced Brown and his fellow-refugees to a place called San Carlos de Bariloche near Lake Ranco on the Argentine — Chilean border. God knows that was fortress enough, but he didn't feel secure even there so he moved to a hide-out in the Chilean Andes, then came here.'
Navarro said: 'He knew you were after him?'
'Yes. For years. Our wealthy friend in Brasilia has been after him for much, much longer. There may well be others.'
'And now he no longer feels secure even here?'
'I'm almost certain he doesn't. I know he was in the Lost City this year, and several times in the past few years. But he likes his comforts and there are none in that ruin. He may have taken a chance and returned. It's highly unlikely, but I have to check. Otherwise there's no point in going to the Lost City.'
'You have to have this confrontation between Brown and his friend.'
'Yes. I have no proof. This — ah — meeting will give me all the proof I ever require.'
'Remind me to take care of myself. I want to be alive to see it.' Navarro turned and gazed at the curtain facing down-stream. 'It will not be easy to get into this place?'
'It will not be easy. Brown's estate here — it's known as Kolonie Waldner 5 5 5 — is better guarded than the Presidential Palace. The estate is hotching with trained killers as guards — and when I say that I mean they're trained and proven killers. There's dense jungle to the north and south — Paraguay lies to the south and Brown is a close friend of the President there — there's this river to the east and a large number of German settlements, populated almost exclusively by ex-members of the S.S., lie astride the roads to Asuncion and Bella Vista. You won't even find a single river pilot here who is Brazilian born, they're all Germans from the River Elbe.'
Ramon said: 'In view of the fact of what you've just told us, a thought occurs to me. How
'Would it be in order,' Navarrd said, 'if we gave you what is known as a couple of old-fashioned looks?'
'Help yourself,' Hamilton said agreeably. He opened a rucksack, brought out three silenced Lugers, three spare magazines and three sheathed hunting knives and distributed those. 'Sleep if you can. I'll watch.'
The helicopter, not under power, drifted with the current down the right bank of the Parana, keeping as close inshore as possible to avoid the bright light of a brilliant half moon riding high in a cloudless sky. A door in the fuselage opened, a figure appeared, stepped down on to one of the pontoons and lowered an anchor quietly to the bed of the river. A second figure appeared with a bulky package under his arm: there came a subdued hiss and within thirty seconds a rubberised dinghy was fully inflated. A third man emerged from the fuselage carrying a small outboard motor and a medium-sized battery. The first two men stepped gingerly into the dinghy and took those items from him: the engine was clamped on to the transom aft, the battery lowered to the duckboard floor and coupled up to the engine.
The engine, once started, was almost soundless and the south-east wind, the prevailing one in tHat area, carried what little noise there was upstream. The painter was unhitched from the helicopter and the dinghy moved downstream. The three occupants were crouched forward, listening intently and peering, not without some apprehension, into the gloom beneath the overhanging branches of the rain-forest trees.