Ive never been known to refuse.
He jerked his head in the direction of the newspaper office. I have an apartment over the shop and a bottle in the apartment. Will you join me? I suddenly feel like getting drunk.
For an answer I rose from the table and paid the tab for both of us. While walking across the park McDougall said, I get the apartment free. In return Im on call twenty-four hours a day. I dont know who gets the better of the bargain.
Maybe you ought to negotiate a new deal with your editor.
With Jimson? Thats a laugh hes just a rubber stamp used by the owner.
And the owner is Matterson, I said, risking a shaft at random.
McDougall looked at me out of the corner of his eye. So youve got that far, have you? You interest me, Mr Boyd; you really do.
You are beginning to interest me, I said.
We climbed the stairs to his apartment, which was sparsely but comfortably furnished. McDougall opened a cupboard and produced a bottle. There are two sorts of Scotch, he said. Theres the kind which is produced by the million gallons: a straight-run neutral grain spirit blended with good malt whisky to give it flavour, burnt caramel added to give it colour, and kept for seven years to protect the sacred name of Scotch whisky. He held up the bottle. And then theres the real stuff fifteen-year-old unblended malt lovingly made and lovingly drunk. This is from Islay the best there is.
He poured two hefty snorts of the light straw-coloured liquid and passed one to me. I said, Heres to you, Mr McDougall. What brand of McDougall are you, anyway?
I would swear he blushed. Ive a good Scots name and youd think that would be enough for any man, but my father had to compound it and call me Hamish. Youd better call me Mac like everyone else and that way well avoid a fight. He chuckled. Lord, the fights I got into when I was a kid.
I said, Im Bob Boyd.
He nodded. And what interests you in the Trinavants?
Am I interested in them?
He sighed. Bob, Im an old-time newspaperman so give me credit for knowing how to do my job. I do a run-down on everyone who checks the back files; youd be surprised how often it pays off in a story. Ive been waiting for someone to consult that particular issue for ten years.
Why should the Recorder be interested in the Trinavants now? I asked. The Trinivants are dead and the Recorder killed them deader. You wouldnt think it possible to assassinate a memory, would you?
The Russians are good at it; they can kill a man and still leave him alive the walking dead, said McDougall. Look at what they did to Khrushchev. Its just that Matterson hit on the idea, too.
You havent answered my question, I said tartly. Quit fencing around, Mac.
The Recorder isnt interested in the Trinavants, he said. If I put in a story about any of them if I even mentioned the name Id be out on my can. This is a personal interest, and if Bull Matterson knew I was even talking about the Trinavants Id be in big trouble. He stabbed his finger at me. So keep your mouth shut, you understand. He poured out another drink and I could see his hand shaking. Now, whats your story?
I said, Mac, until you tell me more about the Trinavants Im not going to tell you anything. And dont ask me why because you wont get an answer.
He looked at me thoughtfully for a long time, then said, But youll tell me eventually?
I might.
That stuck in his gullet but he swallowed it. All right; it looks as though Ive no option. Ill tell you about the Trinavants. He pushed the bottle across. Fill up, son.
The Trinavants were an old Canadian family founded by a Jacques Trinavant who came from Brittany to settle in Quebec back in the seventeen-hundreds. But the Trinavants were not natural settlers nor were they merchants not in those days. Their feet were itchy and they headed west. John Trinavants great-great-grandfather was a voyageur of note; other Trinavants were trappers and there was an unsubstantiated story that a Trinavant crossed the continent and saw the Pacific before Alexander Mackenzie.
John Trinavants grandfather was a scout for Lieutenant Farrell, and when Farrell built the fort he decided to stay and put down roots in British Columbia. It was good country, he liked the look of it and saw the great possibilities. But just because the Trinavants ceased to be on the move did not mean they had lost their steam. Three generations of Trinavants in Fort Farrell built a logging and lumber empire, small but sound.
It was John Trinavant who really made it go, said McDougall. He was a man of the twentieth century born in 1900 and he took over the business young. He was only twenty-three when his father died. British Columbia in those days was pretty undeveloped still, and its men like John Trinavant who have made it what it is today.
He looked at his glass reflectively. I suppose that, from a purely business point of view, one of the best things that Trinavant ever did was to join up with Bull Matterson.
Thats the second time youve mentioned him, I said. He cant be the man I met at the Matterson Building.
Hell, no; thats Howard hes just a punk kid, said McDougall contemptuously. Im talking about the old man Howards father. He was a few years older than Trinavant and they hooked on to each other in 1925. John Trinavant had the brains and directed the policy of the combination while Matterson supplied the energy and drive, and things really started to hum around here. One or the other of them had a finger in every goddam pie; they consolidated the logging industry and they were the first to see that raw logs are no damn use unless you can do something with them, preferably on the spot. They built pulping plants and plywood plants and they made a lot of money, especially during the war. By the end of the war the folks around here used to get a lot of fun out of sitting around of an evening just trying to figure out how much Trinavant and Matterson were worth.
He leaned over and took the bottle. Of course, it wasnt all logging they diversified early. They owned gas stations, ran a bus service until they sold out to Greyhound, owned grocery stores and dry goods stores everyone in this area paid them tribute in one way or another. He paused, then said broodingly, I dont know if thats a good thing for a community. I dont like paternalism, even with the best intentions. But thats the way it worked out.
I said, They also owned a newspaper.
McDougalls face took on a wry look. Its the only one of Mattersons operations that doesnt give him a cash return. It doesnt pay. This town isnt really big enough to support a newspaper, but John Trinavant started it as a public service, as a sideline to the print shop. He said the townsfolk had a right to know what was going on, and he never interfered with editorial policy. Matterson runs it for a different reason.
Whats that?
To control public opinion. He darent close it down because Fort Farrell is growing and someone else might start an honest newspaper which he doesnt control. As long as he holds on to the Recorder hes safe because as sure as hell theres not room for two newspapers.
Whats that?
To control public opinion. He darent close it down because Fort Farrell is growing and someone else might start an honest newspaper which he doesnt control. As long as he holds on to the Recorder hes safe because as sure as hell theres not room for two newspapers.
I nodded. So Trinavant and Matterson each made a fortune. What then?
Then nothing, said McDougall. Trinavant was killed and Matterson took over the whole shooting-match lock, stock and barrel. You see, there werent any Trinavants left.
I thought about that. Wasnt there one left? The editorial in the Recorder mentioned a Miss Trinavant, a niece of John.
You mean Clare, said McDougall. She wasnt really a niece, just a vague connection from the East. The Trinavants were a strong stock a couple of hundred years ago but the Eastern branch withered on the vine. As far as I know Clare Trinavant is the last Trinavant in Canada. John came across her by accident when he was on a trip to Montreal. She was an orphan. He reckoned she must be related to the family somehow, so he took her in and treated her like his own daughter.
Then she wasnt his heir?
McDougall shook his head. Not his natural heir. He didnt adopt her legally and it seems theres never been any way to prove the family connection, so she lost out as far as that goes.
Then who did get Trinavants money? And how did Matterson grab Trinavants share of the business?
McDougall gave me a twisted grin. The answers to those two questions are interlocked. Johns will established a trust fund for his wife and son, the whole of the capital to revert to young Frank at the age of thirty. All the proper safeguards were built in and it was a good will. Of course, provision had to be made in case John outlived everybody concerned and in that case the proceeds of the trust were to be devoted to the establishment of a department of lumber technology at a Canadian university.
Was that done?
It was. The trust is doing good work but not as well as it might, and for the answer to that one you have to go back to 1929. It was then that Trinavant and Matterson realized they were in the empire-building business. Neither of them wanted the death of the other to put a stop to it, so they drew up an agreement that on the death of either of them the survivor would have the option of buying the others share at book value. And thats what Matterson did.
So the trust was left with Trinavants holdings but the trustees were legally obliged to sell to Matterson if he chose to exercise his option. I dont see much wrong with that.
McDougall clicked his tongue in annoyance. Dont be naïve, Boyd. He ticked off points on his fingers. The option was to be exercised at book value and by the time Donner had finished juggling the books my guess is that the book value had slumped in some weird way. Thats one angle. Secondly, the Chairman of the Board of Trustees is William Justus Sloane, and W.J. practically lives in Bull Mattersons pocket these days. The Board of Trustees promptly reinvested what little they got from Matterson right back into the newly organized Matterson Corporation, and if anyone controls that dough now its old Bull. Thirdly, it took the Board of Trustees an awful long time to get off its collective fanny to do anything about ratifying the terms of the trust. It took no less than four years to get that Department of Lumber Technology going, and it was a pretty half-hearted effort at that. From what I hear the department is awfully short of funds. Fourthly, the terms of the sale of Trinavants holdings to Bull were never made public. I reckon he should have cut up for something between seven and ten million dollars but the Board of Trustees only invested two million in the Matterson Corporation and in non-voting stock, by God, which was just ducky for Bull Matterson. Fifthly aaah what am I wasting my time for?
So you reckon Bull Matterson practically stole the Trinavant money.
Theres no practically about it, McDougall snapped.
Bad luck for Miss Clare, I said.
Oh, she did all right. There was a special codicil in the will that took care of her. John left her half a million dollars and a big slice of land. Thats something Bull hasnt been able to get his hooks on not that he hasnt tried.
I thought of the tone of the leader in which the recommendation had been made that Miss Trinavants education should not be interrupted. How old was she when Trinavant was killed?
She was a kid of seventeen. Old John had sent her to Switzerland to complete her education.
And who wrote the leader on September 7th, 1956?
McDougall smiled tightly. So you caught that? Youre a smart boy, after all. The leader was written by Jimson but I bet Matterson dictated it. Its a debatable point whether or not that option agreement could have been broken, especially since Clare wasnt legally of Johns family, but he wasnt taking any chances. He flew out to Switzerland himself and persuaded her to stay, and he put that leader under her nose as an indication that the people of Fort Farrell thought likewise. She knew the Recorder was an honest newspaper; what she didnt know was that Matterson corrupted it the week Trinavant died. She was a girl of seventeen who knew nothing about business.
So who looked after her half million bucks until she came of age?
The Public Trustee, said McDougall. Its pretty automatic in cases like hers. Bull tried to horn in on it, of course, but he never got anywhere.
I went over the whole unsavoury story in my mind, then shook my head. What I dont understand is why Matterson clamped down on the name of Trinavant. What did he have to hide?
I dont know, confessed McDougall. I was hoping that the man who consulted that issue of the Recorder after ten years would be able to tell me. But from that day to this the name of Trinavant has been blotted out in this town. The Trinavant Bank was renamed the Matterson Bank, and every company that held the name was rebaptized. He even tried to change the name of Trinavant Square but he couldnt get it past Mrs Davenant shes the old battle-axe who runs the Fort Farrell Historical Society.
I said, Yes, if it hadnt been for that I wouldnt have known this was Trinavants town.
Would it have made any difference? When I made no answer McDougall said, He couldnt rename Clare Trinavant either. Its my guess hes been praying to God she gets married. She lives in the district, you know and she hates his guts.
So the old mans still alive.
He sure is. Must be seventy-five now, and he wears his age well hes still full of piss and vinegar, but he always was a rumbustious old stallion. John Trinavant was the brake on him, but when John went then old Bull really broke loose. He organized the Matterson Corporation as a holding company and really went to town on money-making, and he wasnt particular how he made it he still isnt, for that matter. And the amount of forest land he owns
I broke in. I thought all forest land was Crown land.
In British Columbia ninety-five per cent is Crown land, but five per cent say, seven million acres is under private ownership. Bull owns no less than one million acres, and he has felling franchises on another two million acres of Crown land. He cuts sixty million cubic feet of lumber a year. Hes always on the edge of getting into trouble because of over-cutting the Government doesnt like that but hes always weaselled his way out. Now hes starting his own hydroelectric plant, and when he has that hell really have this part of the country by the throat.