Windfall

'So how would I know who he was?' Brice asked plaintively. 'You'd never mentioned him. All I knew then was that he was a friend of the Hunts; they were dining together at the Lake Naivasha Hotel with an Indian, a Sikh called Nair Singh.'

'Who is he?'

'A friend of Alan Hunt. They were at University together.'

'And then Stafford turned up in the Masai Mara chasing after Hendriks. Couldn't you put two and two together?'

'I didn't hear about it. It wasn't reported in the press. Who is Stafford, anyway?'

'A friend of Alix,' said Dirk broodingly. 'And he's sharp, Brice; damned sharp.' He told Brice exactly who and what Stafford was. 'It's not coincidence that he's popping up here and there at critical times and places. Did he mention me when he was here?'

'No.'

'Why not?' demanded Dirk. 'He knew I was coming.' His mind was busy with possible implications, then he said explosively, 'Good God!'

'What's the matter now?' said Brice tiredly.

'He's seen the bloody will, that's what's the matter,' said Dirk viciously. 'A man called Hardin came to see Alix when I was in South Africa.' He told Brice about it, then said, 'I never met Hardin. Alix said he'd gone back to the States.'

'And you never thought to tell me about this?' said Brice acidly.

'I was too busy thinking about what to do with Hendrix. But that doesn't matter now. What matters is that Stafford knows the Foundation has inherited a hell of a lot more than seven million.'

Brice shrugged. 'We've got a cover for that. I told you about it. I'll just have to report the full extent of our windfall. A pity, but there it is.' He stood up and began to pace. 'This is a damn funny tale you're telling me. Hardin, an American, tells your wife that you had an unknown cousin. Further, Hardin has taken the trouble to get a copy of the will. Why should he do that?'

'He said he was suspicious of the man he was working for according to Alix. I told you I never met the man.'

'And who was he working for?'

'A private detective agency in New York.'

'The name?'

'I don't know. Alix didn't say.'

'Who employed the detective agency?'

'Farrar, the Jersey lawyer.'

Brice Stopped his pacing and faced Hendriks. 'Now tell me something,' he said coldly. 'How did Farrar know there was an American heir?' Dirk was silent. Brice said, 'How many people knew there was an American heir?'

'Pretoria knew,' said Dirk. 'I knew, but I didn't go near Farrar. Mandeville knew, of course.' He stopped.

'Mandeville knew,' repeated Brice. 'The eminent Queen's Counsel knew. Do you know what happened, Hendriks? While Pretoria was chasing Hendrix in Los Angeles he was also being chased by American detectives employed by Farrar at the instigation of Mandeville. Pretoria nearly got Hendrix but he was rescued by Mandeville's crowd. What a balls-up! Hasn't anyone heard of co-ordination and liaison? We've been fighting ourselves, you damned fool.' His tone was cutting. 'What made Mandeville go off half-cocked like that?'

'He always said Pretoria was slow off the mark,' said Dirk. His voice was sullen.

'I think you'd better talk to Mandeville. Find out if our reasoning is correct. If it is, you tell him never to do anything without orders again.' He picked up the telephone. 'Find out the delay on London calls, please.' As he put down the telephone he said, 'And you might ask him for the name of the American detective agency.'

'Why? It doesn't matter any more.'

'How do you know that? Have you got crystal balls?' Brice slammed his hand on the desk with a noise like a pistol shot. There's been too much going wrong on this operation. I haven't been sweating blood here to see it torpedoed by inefficiency.' He sat down. 'Now tell me more about Stafford? How did he come to see the will?'

'Hardin had a copy and took it to Alix. I was in South Africa so Alix asked Stafford for his advice. Hardin showed him the will.'

'So he knows the extent of the will, he's been prowling about here, and he was in the Masai Mara when Hendrix was snatched. This man you met… er…?' Brice snapped his fingers impatiently.

'Gunnarsson.'

'Gunnarsson told you that Stafford had followed the raiders. Is that it?'

'That's right. Afterwards Stafford told him that his party got lost in the bush.'

'Got lost, did they? I wonder.' Brice cocked a raised eyebrow at Hendriks. 'I lost two men and your cousin is still missing. We discussed it before but we didn't know about Stafford then.' He rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. 'I can see we'll have to find out more about Stafford.' The telephone rang and he picked it up. 'Oh!' He covered the mouthpiece. 'Someone for you. Who knows you're here?'

'No one,' said Hendriks. 'After I talked to Gunnarsson I went to the American Embassy but I told no one where I was going after that.'

'Someone knows.' Brice held out the telephone. 'You'd better find out who it is.'

Hendriks took it. 'Dirk Hendriks speaking.'