Death in a Cold Climate

by Robert Barnard

  ‘Little or nothing, as a general rule.’

  ‘Even if he’d worked in oil before?’

  ‘Oh yes, even then. You need a real grounding in the subject–from a university or polytechnic in fact–before the sort of info they’re getting would mean a thing. It’s the sort of education we’re aiming to provide here. And of course, even then the data by itself is nothing: you’d need time to work on it, even if you were an expert. You’d have to sit on all the stuff for a while before you could really assess its significance.’

  ‘So normally all the data they collected would go straight to, say, State Oil, and even then they’d often call in expert advice, from the universities or wherever.’

  ‘That’s about it. It’s a long job.’

  ‘The end result being a better idea of the most profitable areas for drilling?’

  ‘Yes–put very simply, that is one of the things they’re interested in.’

  ‘And not just State Oil.’

  ‘Well, no. You know the way of the world, Inspector. There’s a pretty cut-throat competition among the oil companies, and the gentlemanly rules sometimes get passed by. Don’t they always? And particularly now, with the Middle-East supply getting more and more uncertain, everyone’s interested in the North Sea fields. Particularly the Northern ones.’

  ‘Why particularly the Northern ones?’

  ‘Because they’re so rich. That’s one of the things we’re pretty sure about. Enormously rich–much more so than the fields further south, the ones between Norway and Britain. And then, they represent the future–they will probably be the next big ones to be opened up. But there are so many imponderables: the cost of getting at it is one big one; then the technical difficulties due to the rugged weather; the political opposition to it from people up here; the opposition of the ecology people. It’s all very exciting, just because it is so uncertain. So naturally all the various companies are interested in just about every aspect of what’s going on, and what’s being found out.’

  ‘I see. That’s roughly what I thought. But now, where do the universities come in?’

  ‘Well, not as directly as the Continental Shelf people. But the fact is, this discovery of North Sea oil found Norway pretty unprepared in a lot of ways. It was like a big pools win, you know. It wasn’t something anyone could predict, or that you could do anything about in advance. So suddenly there was this big need for experts–in all the related fields. What’s happened has been enormous expansion in the relevant university departments, with lots of money from the government to push it along. In the early years Norway has had to rely on a lot of foreign advice–Americans, Britons, Dutch, and so on. But Norway’s in the grip of the same sort of petty nationalism as everyone else is these days: foreign help isn’t good for national pride: she wants to breed her own experts and run her own show.’

  ‘But meanwhile?’

  ‘Meanwhile she still often has to call in experts from abroad to train the Norwegian experts of the future.’

  ‘Hence you?’

  Dr Mackenzie smiled broadly and leaned back on the sofa, stroking the head of his dog, who had given up all idea of going on his own chair and had finally jumped on the sofa and settled down with a sigh of boredom by the side of his master. ‘Hence me, as you say. There are lots like me in Norwegian universities–in geology departments and elsewhere.’

  ‘People with foreign experience?’

  ‘Yes–people with foreign degrees, people with lectureships at foreign universities who can get a step up by coming to Norway. We’ve got in while the going’s good, of course. In a few years they’ll very likely be restricting jobs to Norwegian applicants.’

  ‘I see. And you teach, supervise–you also act as consultants for State Oil now and then, I suppose.’

  ‘Yes, now and then.’

  ‘So in many ways you’re key people in this whole business of North Sea oil?’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that. The key men are all down in Oslo, within State Oil. They’re the ones who make the decisions. They’ve multiplied like rabbits down there in recent years, and I must say–well, perhaps I’d better not. One learns to be tactful after a time.’

  ‘You think they’re inefficient?’

  Dr Mackenzie smiled and held his peace.

  ‘Still,’ said Fagermo, ‘if you’re not the key figures, here in the universities, still you have a lot of sensitive information going through your hands.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose so, now and then.’

  ‘Information that a lot of people outside the system would give a packet to get their hands on?’

  ‘I think you’re being a little melodramatic there, Inspector. There are various ways of getting this information. Companies can mount research operations of their own, for example.’

  ‘Illegally, surely, if they were within the Norwegian sphere of interest?’

  ‘Yes, surely. But it happens. You’ve just got to look at the Russian fishing fleet . . . ’

  ‘Yes–that’s the local joke, of course. Still, the big oil companies at least would prefer not to do anything so flagrantly illegal as mount their own operations, if it could be avoided. If there were other ways of getting hold of the sort of information they’re after–’

  ‘Well, yes, I suppose they’d take it, if there was no great risk involved.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Fagermo. ‘So I would have thought. And a large wad of money to one or two people is in any case cheaper than an elaborate and clandestine scientific expedition.’

  ‘No doubt. Though as I say, I don’t think you should dramatize this too much. The State Oil people do a lot of sharing of information, when it suits them, and most of the data from these geological surveys gets around eventually.’

  ‘Eventually. That may be the crucial point. Where there’s a lot of money to be made, the various parties will want all the information they can get, and they’ll want it fast. Hence the Russian fishing-boats, I suppose. But really, what I’m trying to do now is what I’ve been doing all along: fill in on Martin Forsyth. The boy and his background. See what possibilities he had for getting into trouble. Because one of the few things we know about him is that he certainly did get into trouble. One possibility was–still is–sex. But the difficulty with that is: he was here for such a short time. Another possibility is money. But then the question arises: what from? As far as I’m concerned the two most likely answers are spying-political spying–and oil.’

  Dougal Mackenzie looked thoughtful. ‘There have been some pretty odd deaths in the area, haven’t there? Those Japanese or Chinese or whatever down near Bodø: they were never identified. People talked about spying, I remember.’

  ‘They certainly did. It’s the sort of thing people say when they don’t know anything definite but think there’s something mysterious going on. But nobody ever identified those foreigners. With Martin Forsyth we had the advantage of identifying him pretty easily. And then we found–amid lots of uncertainties–some background in oil. Here in Norway, both in the Stavanger set-up, and in Trondheim. And also in the Middle East. I soon found out that he’d probably worked in Abadan.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. And as far as I’m concerned that seems to mean one thing: if there was anyone working on that boat doing geological surveys who was likely to know what he was doing, it was Forsyth. He was intelligent, he had a moderately good educational background–and above all he was sharp: he had a keen eye for the main chance, and he seemed to want to use it to make money quick.’

  ‘Yes, I see,’ said Mackenzie. ‘That does seem to add up to a fair conclusion.’

  ‘Doesn’t get me far enough, though,’ said Fagermo. ‘If Forsyth was feeding information direct to–say–an American oil company, why should they kill the goose that was laying the golden eggs, or why should anyone else? It seemed to me that the situation was a bit more complex than that.’

  He sat back, took out a cigarette, and lit it. ‘Now, Dr Mackenzie, these foreigners who com
e and work in oil in this country, or in the universities, what is their background as a rule?’

  ‘Well, as I say, they come here mostly for promotion. Norway needs people in a variety of fields connected in one way or another with oil: geologists of various kinds, geographers, economists with rather special interests–and plenty of others. Where you get a sudden demand like that you’ll always get people applying from outside who think they’ll get ahead faster abroad than they will in their own countries. Nobody likes being stuck on the lower rungs of the academic ladder when the only chance of rising is by stepping into dead men’s shoes.’

  ‘You’re implying that most of them come direct from foreign universities, aren’t you? But that’s not always true, is it? Some have come here whose main experience is with overseas oil companies, isn’t that right?’

  ‘Oh, yes, certainly.’

  ‘As in your own case, Dr Mackenzie.’

  Dougal Mackenzie sat back in his sofa, his hand once more on his dog’s head, his whole body lazily drooping over the arm in a way designed to suggest relaxation. He smiled faintly. ‘Yes, that’s quite right. I had a period with one of the big British oil companies and another short spell with an American one. Most of us have, as you say, been with them at one time or another.’

  ‘So I gather,’ said Fagermo. ‘It must make you very useful when it comes to all this consultation work.’

  Mackenzie shrugged. ‘Perhaps. They come to me–the State Oil people–now and then. All of us in geology departments who have this sort of special knowledge are used from time to time. Most of us have done our stint with the big oil people.’

  ‘Again, so I gather,’ said Fagermo. ‘You, I believe, were working in Abadan for about five years before you came here.’

  ‘That’s right. Something like five, I suppose. In a way I expect you could say it was that experience got me this job. Naturally if they start drilling up here, someone with first-hand experience on the spot will be worth his weight.’

  ‘Very nice,’ said Fagermo, keeping his eye on that carefully relaxed body. ‘Well–you can understand my interest. Martin Forsyth’s mother says he worked at “Aberfan” or some such place as that. You’ve worked at Abadan –’

  Dougal Mackenzie laughed and spread out his hands. ‘Have you any idea, Inspector, of the size of the place, of how many foreigners work in or around Abadan?’

  ‘A good many, I’ve no doubt. I presume you would deny that you ever met Martin Forsyth there?’

  ‘Certainly I would–there or anywhere else as far as I remember. But one met a great number of people out there–many of them British. And remember that I only saw him dead here. But as far as I know, certainly I never met him. You’ve got to remember these oil companies are pretty stratified little societies. I don’t want to sound snobbish, but Marty Forsyth and I would have moved in very different circles.’

  ‘I notice you call him Marty. And yet I’ve never used that form in talking about him with you.’

  ‘Martin–Marty. It’s a common abbreviation.’

  ‘Is it, sir? I’d like to check up on that. I had an idea that it was fairly unusual–more of a pet name, or a joke name based on a television star than a common abbreviation. Well, well–interesting. Now, one more little thing. Our medics are agreed that Forsyth was not killed where he was found–he was taken there later, after the blood on the wound had already congealed. Now, by pure luck–and it’s about the only piece of luck we’ve had in this case–Forsyth had an unusual blood-group: he was AB positive. And the other day we were put on to a nasty bloodstain in the vindfang of Isbjørnvei 18. It was the same blood-group. And when I looked up the names of the people who had been tenants of number 18, I found your name, sir.’

  ‘My dear Inspector, you’re on to a loser there. That was all of three years ago. The first couple of months I spent here, before I bought this house.’

  ‘Exactly, sir. I know the dates. But the idea I’m playing with is this: if you should have planned to kill this boy, you would hardly have wanted to use your own house, would you? Quite apart from the obvious danger of his being traced here, your wife was with you at the time, wasn’t she? And yet you would want an address to give him, somewhere to meet him: he would have been highly suspicious of an outdoor tryst at that time of year. Now, if it should happen that you had still got a key to the house in Isbjørnvei–one you thought you’d lost, and which therefore hadn’t been returned to the University Administration–what better place to appoint to meet him than a house you knew was empty, and which you could get into. Around Christmas there’s very few in those houses: a lot of tenants have gone to their families in other parts of Norway. It’s dark by two, and most people huddle inside. Really, a very good place to kill.’

  Dougal Mackenzie’s smile had not relaxed, and if there seemed a new tenseness in the body he nevertheless gave an impression of relief that things had come into the open, a readiness to accept a challenge and enjoy a duel.

  ‘Well, well, at last you’ve said it out,’ he said. ‘Fantastic as it all is, I know now exactly what you’re thinking and suggesting. Let’s take it from there: I know what I’m being accused of, and you know that I know. I think there’s a distinct lack of anything in the way of evidence in your case so far, and the whys and wherefores are still a mystery.’

  ‘You’re right,’ agreed Fagermo amiably. ‘Quite right. Very little evidence. Only very tenuous indications. Little connections like spiders’ webs. Now, here’s another little dribble of information. As you say, the people at State Oil often use the high-ups at the universities as consultants to evaluate the data collected on these various research expeditions in the North Sea. But well over a year ago, they stopped using you.’

  ‘But, Inspector, this isn’t a regular thing. There are several of us. This sort of work goes in fits and starts.’

  ‘Quite possibly. But they deliberately stopped using you. There are several Professors and Readers in your field previously employed by one or other of the big oil companies. For various reasons–mainly, of course, the suspicion that some companies were acting on information which they shouldn’t have had–they began to have doubts about the reliability of some of the people they were using. Because this stuff was definitely confidential. So they began making little tests. And as a result, a couple of people were dropped as consultants. One of them was you.’

  ‘I see. Well, this is news to me. It seems rather like condemnation without trial. And, with all due respect, I still don’t entirely see the significance.’

  ‘End of useful extra income,’ said Fagermo, with his most urbane smile. ‘And I don’t mean the payment from State Oil for your consultancy work: eighty per cent of that would go back in income tax at your salary level. But why else would you have been passing on information except for money? What was threatened was that extra whack you have been getting, tax free, from whichever company, or companies, you were passing on the information to. I don’t know the rate for the game, but I’d have thought these must have been tidy sums, to make it worth your while.’

  ‘You have, I suppose, Inspector, some shreds of evidence that this is what I’ve been doing?’

  ‘Quite frankly, no, sir,’ said Fagermo, with undiminished amiability. ‘As you will be aware, this is an area where we can’t get information by our normal channels. Nothing short of a Congressional Committee or a Royal Commission or something of that sort could get details of the sort of payment I’m thinking of: undercover payment by one of the big multi-nationals. So you’re quite right: here we are definitely moving into the realms of conjecture.’

  ‘Have we ever been out of it? Still, go on and entertain me further.’

  ‘Well, I’m quite willing to acknowledge that what I’m suggesting here is sheer guesswork. We’ll keep it on that level. I think that somewhere around this time, when you stopped being used by the State Oil people, you met up again with Martin Forsyth–if in fact you’d ever lost touch. For all I know you could have g
ot him his first job in this country with the oil people down in Stavanger, but that’s not a vital part in the story. I think it occurred to you, when you met up with him, that there were other ways of getting the gen the oil companies wanted than by having it referred to you as consultant. If you had somebody bright, sharp, somebody with experience and a bit of grounding in the subject, and if he got a job with one or other of the bodies doing the geological surveying, then you could go on with your little side-line. Splitting the proceeds, of course, with your partner, doubtless in some such proportion as eighty per cent to you and twenty to him. That was your downfall.’

  ‘You’ve given me precious little reason to think I’ve fallen down so far.’

  ‘In the first instance his downfall, of course. But eventually yours. I’ll see to that. For some while I’d guess the scheme worked very well: Forsyth got the job with the Continental Shelf Research people. They were very happy to have him: he was significantly better than the men they usually recruited as hands on their boats. Suspicious in itself, I think. I’ve found out they were paying him decidedly less than he was getting in Stavanger, and my impressions of the sort of chap Forsyth was suggest that he wasn’t one to take a pay cut just for the joy of working on boats. Everyone says he was a loner, a reserved sort of boy, but one who knew what he was doing. I feel pretty sure that what he was doing was feeding all the information he could get hold of to you. And that you were doing what he wasn’t qualified to do: interpreting it, and feeding it forward to one or other–perhaps more than one–of the big oil companies. Conceivably even to the Russians as well, who have oil interests of their own in the Barents Sea, and are very interested in everything Norway is doing in the way of oil exploration.’

  ‘Quite a lucrative little side-line. You make it sound as if the whole of the world’s oil industry was knocking at my door and stuffing money through my letter-box.’

  ‘Not quite–but I should think you did very well. The big companies have a pretty good network of contacts, covering any area where they have an interest, or hope to have an interest: local politicos (I think they have one here); academics; journalists; any sort of leader of local opinion. They’re interested in information, and they’re also interested in shaping local feeling towards the coming of oil, and towards their own claims. I think they pay well.’