The Fourth Bear полностью

“I have heard that the Health and Safety people are more than happy with your efforts. I was just wondering if Ms. Hatchett had ever approached QuangTech Industries for information?”

Bisky-Batt frowned. “Indeed she did. She was most insistent about speaking to the Quangle-Wangle, but as you know, he sees no one. She was so forceful I agreed to see her myself.”

“What did she want?”

“She wanted to know about an ex-confederate of ours named Angus McGuffin.”

Jack said nothing, and Bisky-Batt continued.

“During the eighties the Quangle-Wangle waged a policy of funding projects on the very fringes of science on the basis that if they did work, then the profits might be very substantial indeed. He called it Project Supremely Optimistic Belief. We had a few mild successes. Pumpkin transmogrification was one of them, but in general the project was a failure. McGuffin’s time here at QuangTech was a particularly expensive failure. He arrived in 1984 with claims of being able to synthesize oil from grass cuttings; it was an idea the Quangle-Wangle found irresistible.”

“There are many people who say the grass-cutting story is a myth to cover his true intent.”

“If only it were.”

“So you’re saying McGuffin was a charlatan?”

Bisky-Batt shrugged. “‘Charlatan’ would be a polite term. Personally I would have had him drummed out ASAP, but the Quang calls the shots. We gave McGuffin a laboratory. He blew it up. We gave him another. He blew that one up as well. We rebuilt the lab for the third time a little farther away from the other buildings, and he blew that up, too.”

“He was making progress?”

“No, I think he just liked blowing things up. He destroyed at least two labs a year, until even the Quangle-Wangle began to see that he was pouring money down the drain, and McGuffin’s contract was terminated in 1988.”

“And his death?”

“The day before he was due to leave. A parting shot, we think, and although the coroner recorded an open verdict, we considered it suicide. It was his biggest explosion to date. Despite our having isolated his laboratory on the far side of the plant, he still managed to blow out all the windows in the village.”

“But you never found the body.”

“We never found the laboratory, Inspector.”

“Might he have escaped somehow?”

“No. We had closed-circuit TV of him right up until the moment of the blast; it was all played at the inquest. It wasn’t just him, you know. He took three lab assistants with him. He cost us over thirty million pounds, and all for nothing. Project Supremely Optimistic Belief was abandoned soon after.”

“What else was Miss Hatchett asking about?”

“I think that was pretty much it.”

“Did she mention other explosions she was looking at?”

Bisky-Batt thought for a moment. “No. It was McGuffin she was after. We get a lot of requests for information about Angus, so I have most of it at my fingertips. I understand he’s become the patron saint of the conspiracy movement.”

“And what about Obscurity?”

“Somewhere the Quangle-Wangle shall never be, Inspector.”

“I meant the village.”

“You’re not the first to ask. Yes, I can confirm that we were requested by the Home Office to do a detailed examination of the site. The results were sent on to NS-4 and published the same day—a wartime bomb, detonated accidentally.”

They sat in silence for a while.

“Tell me,” said Jack, “does QuangTech have an interest in genetically modified foodstuffs?”

“Owing to the almost blanket ban here in Europe,” replied Bisky-Batt after considering the question briefly, “GM foodstuffs are not a market worth the very great expenditure and stringent regulations. However, we do have a cross-pollination seed division that does generate a good deal of income. High-yield crops are big business. Unlike many of our competitors, we have a rigorously applied ethical policy, so that we are not exploiting those least able to defend themselves. It’s a contentious subject, and despite our very best intentions we are still lambasted for our efforts. Sadly, globalization and multinational business are seen as a great evil in many people’s eyes, despite the good that we do.”

“What about cucumbers?”

Bisky-Batt raised an eyebrow. “In what respect?”

“Genetically modified or cross-pollinated oversize vegetables to—I don’t know—feed the hungry masses or something?”

“With cucumbers?” asked Bisky-Batt, a lean smile crossing his impassive features. “The most remarkable thing about cucumbers is that they have the least caloric value of any vegetable. Good for the crunch in a salad, but otherwise pretty useless. We concentrate on those foodstuffs that are themselves a staple—such as rice, maize, oats, wheat and so forth.”

“I see,” said Jack thoughtfully, “so the financial sense in breeding a giant cucumber is…?”