He nodded. 'Yes. I expected that. I expected that as soon as I saw Jorgensen here.' He crashed the butt of his pistol against the wooden wall. 'I'm hounded out of my own country. Now I'm being hounded out of Norway. Why? Why?' His voice was high-pitched, hysterical. 'I did what I had to do. These metals were my life work. I needed money for research. Would any institute in Britain give it to me? Would any of the big industrial concerns?
'No.' He looked angrily at me. 'Certainly not B.M. & I. So I stole the money. I stole it from my partner. He was a dull, unimaginative little man anyway. But now — now I've done the spadework and got something they want — now they'd be prepared to condone murder — if you can call killing a rat like Schreuder — a traitor — murder. Well, you won't get it — any of you. I'll get away. Right away. Somewhere where I'm not known. Then I'll make my own terms.'
'You can make your terms right here and now,' I said.
He looked at me. 'How do you mean?'
'I have full authority to act for B.M. & I.,' I pointed out.
He laughed. 'What will you offer?'
I hesitated. What offer could I honestly make him? 'Do you want an outright figure or a percentage of the ore lifted?' I asked.
'What's your outright figure?' He was watching me with a sneer.
'A hundred thousand pounds,' I said. 'Payable over five years provided the deposits hold out that long.'
He threw back his head and laughed. 'A hundred thousand! If you offered me a million, it wouldn't repay me for what I've been through — or Jill — or that poor little wretch, Clegg. It wouldn't bring Schreuder back to life or stop my father from committing suicide. You didn't know about that, did you? He committed suicide. A million! Those deposits are worth tens of millions to the company that gets hold of them.'