The Gigantic Shadow Read Free Page B

life was by his angering Mekles. To his disappointment the little man seemed unmoved. He said carefully, ‘As you know, I am sure, I was cleared of any suggestion that I had any connection with such horrible traffic.’
    ‘You own a shipping fleet?’ Mekles inclined his head. ‘Is it a fact that several ships of that fleet sank with valuable cargo on board?’
    ‘Four ships only.’
    ‘And that the insurance companies concerned refused to pay on the ground that the ships were not seaworthy?’
    No feeling of any sort showed in the little dark eyes. ‘Not at all. One of the insurance companies paid without question. The other refused to pay, on what I could only regard as a pretext. I took the only step available to me.’
    Incautiously Hunter asked, ‘What was that?’
    ‘I bought the insurance company.’ Without raising his voice Mekles said, ‘I am quite a respectable man, I assure you, Mr Hunter. As respectable as you are, perhaps. I have big oil interests, I own a great deal of property, some of it in England. Would you like me to tell you about that?’
    The interview was going badly, creating the wrong impression. It was almost as though Mekles were the interrogator and Hunter the man under questioning. And it was hot, too hot under the arc lamps. Hunter felt the heat striking at him, soaking his shirt, making his collar limp, beating at his eyes and forehead, as he went on asking questions, making wild roundhouse verbal swings which Mekles parried with almost contemptuous ease, saying that there was no mystery about his passport, it had been issued by the Greek Government, there was no mystery about his origin, he was a Greek citizen, he had come to England merely for pleasure. ‘It is a very nice country,’ he said. ‘Your policemen are wonderful. Also your television interviewers.’
    Hunter discovered in himself a dislike, almost hatred, for the little man sitting opposite him. He remembered suddenly a note made by Charlie Cash. ‘Mekles is supposed to be here to get in touch with Melville Bond, ex-MP, businessman, director Bellwinder Tool Co. Some sort of shady deal proposed, Mekles boss, Bond carrying out instructions. Like the furniture factory I told you about.’ Underneath came Charlie’s comment: ‘Unconfirmed. Don’t know what it’s all about. Just info., not to use.’
    Sometimes a shot in the dark could be successful. It had happened before, it could happen again. He said, ‘So you are here purely for pleasure?’
    ‘Purely. I find all sorts of things pleasant. Even an interview like this one when I am being – what do you call it? – grilled.’
    ‘Business absolutely doesn’t enter into it?’
    Sharply Mekles said, ‘It does not.’
    Hunter leaned forward. The camera, looking down, showed his broad shoulders, the back of his head. ‘Do you know a man named Melville Bond?’
    There was a flicker of hesitation, no more. ‘No.’
    ‘You haven’t been in touch with him?’
    ‘Not at all.’
    ‘You have done no business with him?’
    ‘None whatever.’
    There was something here. Hunter could feel it. He said encouragingly, ‘Perhaps you used another name for the purpose? Or approached him through an agent? In an important business deal you might well not wish to appear personally.’
    ‘I have no knowledge whatever of Mr Bond.’ Mekles drew back in the chair, put out his tongue again, and Hunter was suddenly aware of danger, of a transformation from lizard to snake. ‘And on the question of using false names you have personal knowledge, I think.’
    The attack was so sudden that Hunter was jolted by it, committed again the mistake of allowing Mekles the initiative. ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘I mean that your name is not Hunter but O’Brien. You have spent several years in prison for a crime which I will be friendly enough not to name. I cannot admit that you have any right to ask me such questions as you have done. I must ask you to excuse me.’
    All this the viewers in