Mystery on Southampton Water Page 2
‘I don’t understand that,’ Bramwell went on. ‘Chayle’s not such a lot bigger than we are ourselves. How could they turn out enough stuff to affect the market?’
‘That’s my difficulty too,’ Tasker agreed. ‘I don’t see how they could.’
‘Is that the only firm that’s putting out the stuff cheap?’ asked the sporting director unexpectedly.
‘It’s the only one I could hear of.’
‘Must be costs,’ Bramwell declared. ‘We’ve just agreed that our methods and machinery are as good as can be had, but it looks as if we’d have to revise our ideas. They must be turning out the stuff cheaper than we are.’
Tasker shook his head. ‘It’s not that,’ he declared. ‘I’m absolutely positive that no firm could do what we’re doing any cheaper than we do it. Let me go on.’
‘Sorry,’ said Bramwell; ‘I thought you had finished.’
‘I did what seemed to me the obvious thing,’ Tasker continued. ‘If Chayle were putting out cement cheaper than we could, it followed, I thought, that they must be putting out an inferior cement. I bought some of the Chayle stuff and I told our chemist to test it.’
‘King?’ Sir Francis asked.
‘Yes, King. King’s a very good man at his job, as I think you all know; a really first rate chemical engineer. I had every confidence in his opinion. I told him I wanted his report for today, and I got it last night.’
‘And did he come up to scratch?’
‘I think so, Bramwell.’ Tasker spoke with more emphasis. ‘If he’s correct, the affair turns out even more serious than appeared at first sight. I was right and I was wrong. I was right that the cement was different from ours. I was wrong that it was inferior. It’s not inferior.’ He paused, then added slowly: ‘It’s better.’
There were murmurs of concern and incredulity.
‘It’s not quite the same in chemical composition,’ Tasker went on. ‘I needn’t go into the exact formulæ, I don’t suppose any of us would be much the wiser if I did. But it’s all here if anyone wants it. It’s nearly the same, you understand, but not quite. And the interesting thing about it is that the difference does not merely consist of a slight variation in the proportions of the ingredients—that’s to be expected and makes little matter—the difference consists in the presence of certain entirely new elements. It’s quite evident that the Chayle people have made some discovery that’s going to make us a back number.’
‘You mean they’ve got a new cement?’
‘Virtually a new cement.’
Once again there were murmurs of concern. This was certainly a bad look out for their enterprise. If the Chayle people were turning out a better article at a cheaper price than they were, nothing could save them from going out of business. Presently Sir Francis broke the silence.
‘You suggest,’ he said to Tasker, ‘that our Chayle friends have made some discovery or invention in connection with the manufacture of cement. But surely if they had done so they would patent it and allow the rest of us to use it under licence? That would surely pay them better than trying to run a secret process, as I presume you mean they are doing?’
Tasker shrugged. ‘I don’t know,’ he replied slowly. ‘I thought of that, and I’m not sure that you’re right. In the first place, the covering of a process by patent is not easy. There is always the chance that by introducing some small modifications the protection may be evaded—in which case you have spent your money and lost your process. Besides there’s a lot of money in patenting. If they’ve got hold of something good, they would want to patent it all over the world: covering it in this country only wouldn’t be much good. I don’t know: I think they might find it better to run it as a secret process.’
The sporting gentleman moved uneasily. ‘If Tasker’s right in all he’s told us, there must surely be other firms than Chayle in it. It’s surely physically impossible that they should put out enough to make all this difference?’
‘I agree,’ Bramwell declared. ‘What do you say to that, Tasker?’
‘I’ve said that I don’t know. There may be others, working probably in agreement with Chayle.’
Again there was an uneasy silence, broken once more by Bramwell.
‘How long can we go on, Tasker?’
‘Well, that’s just it. Unless we see light somewhere, we can’t go on at all. As you know, we’re in debt to the bank as it is. We were beginning to work some of it off, but for the last four months we’ve had to give that up. We’re increasing the debt at present, and the bank is not going to stand for much more of it.’
‘Been kicking up trouble?’
‘Not exactly, but the manager asked me to see him and he gave me to understand our credit was about at its limit.’
‘I don’t like to think of shutting down without a struggle,’ declared Sir Francis.
There were murmurs of approval, but no concrete suggestions, and Sir Francis went on.
‘It seems trying to take an unfair advantage of you, Tasker,’ he said with a twisted smile, ‘but you told us in your statement—and of course we knew—that you were asked, not only to tell us what exactly was happening, but also to recommend the best way of meeting the difficulty. The first part of that commission you have carried out in your usual entirely competent way, but what about the second? Have you been able to think of any way out of our difficulty.’
Tasker shrugged, while the others exchanged perfunctory smiles. ‘I’m afraid that’s not so easy,’ he admitted. ‘I can’t see any very satisfactory steps that we might take.’ He hesitated, then went on more slowly. ‘There is just one possibility. I don’t myself think there’s much in it, but I give it for what it’s worth.’ Again he paused and the others watched him more eagerly. ‘It’s King’s idea. He’d like to be allowed to try to evolve a similar process. He points out that we know something that we believe none of our competitors knows. We know that the Chayle stuff is different to the rest of the cement on the market because of the extra ingredients it contains. King thinks that, knowing this, he might discover a way of making it.’
The suggestion led to a good deal of discussion. The possibility of King’s success, the time that he might require, the estimated loss during this period, even the morality of the proceeding was called in question. Finally Bramwell brought the talk to a close. ‘With your permission, Mr Chairman, I think we should have King in and see what he says himself.’
Some such demand had been foreseen, and King was in readiness. Brand was sent for him.
The chemical engineer was a good-looking young fellow of some eight-and-twenty, with dark keen eyes and an alert manner. Obviously moreover he had personality and character—for good or evil. His appearance suggested that what he undertook, he would perform; that in emergencies he would keep his head, and that if a way out of a difficulty were possible, he would find it.
‘Mr Tasker has been telling us about your researches into this new cement,’ Sir Francis began, when a seat had been found for the young man at the table. ‘He says that with the knowledge you already have, it might be possible for you to find some way of making the stuff. We want to know what your feeling about that is, and what you think of your chances of success.’
‘I should like very much to try, sir,’ the young fellow answered. ‘I think there’s a reasonable chance of pulling it off. Of course you will understand that I couldn’t pledge myself to do so.’
‘We understand that and we’re not asking impossibilities. What we have to decide is, firstly, whether your chance of success justifies our running at a loss while you are carrying out your experiments, and secondly—I’m being quite straight with you—whether we would be better advised to call in some further, and perhaps more experienced, technical help.’
That this idea should be most distasteful to King was as obvious as it was natural. ‘I should ask you to give me a chance, sir; first, at all events.’
‘Well, we’ll settle that later. Tell me now how long you should want.’
Some other members of the board put questions, then King was thanked and asked to retire. A short further discussion brought the business to an end. King was to be given one month to see what he could do. At the end of that time the whole matter would be reconsidered. If his progress had been substantial, the time might be extended. If not, they would either get additional technical assistance or close down.
This settled, Sir Francis left the chair and the meeting came to an end.
2
The Fight Begins
Brand remained behind when the other men left the room. He was acting for the secretary to the board, who was on leave, and he wished to draft the minutes while the proceedings remained clear in his memory. For a moment he stood at the window, lost in thought.
He was glad on every count that King had been given his opportunity. During the seven years in which they had been associated at the Joymount Works, he and King had become pretty good friends. Their intimacy, however, was due rather to the accident of their being thrown together by their work, than to any special personal attraction. In ordinary circumstances they would probably have remained no more than pleasant acquaintances, but at Joymount there were two reasons which drew them together. The first was that they were the only two men in the concern of similar age and social position, and their outlook on life was therefore more or less alike. The second was that contact was maintained outside their work. Both lived at the same boarding house, or, as the proprietor called it, private hotel. Both moreover were keen on things mechanical, and both delighted in motor boating and racing, a hobby which their position on Southampton Water enabled them to indulge fully. The only discordant note (literally) in their friendship was that for some unknown reason King believed he could sing, and at all so
rts of inopportune moments his upraised voice could be heard dealing despotically with fragments from the classics, the more popular melodies of Schubert being special favourites. This habit considerably annoyed Brand, who was himself musical.
For a time Brand considered the outlook as it concerned himself, and then his thoughts reverted to King. There was no doubt that King would put his whole energy into his task. Serious as this Chayle affair was for Brand, for King it might well prove even more vital. King had a very comfortable billet at Joymount and he would not want to lose it. To a large extent he was his own master, and his relations with Tasker and the other members of the staff were pleasant. His salary admittedly was not lavish, but it was adequate, and he had reasonable leisure and in a mild way as much society as he wanted. So far, his case was similar to Brand’s.
But King had an even stronger reason for desiring success than merely to keep his job: a reason which Brand did not share. If he got hold of a good process, it might mean a very big thing to him. It might at a stroke render him independent, even wealthy. It would certainly make him professionally a very big man. He might even better the Chayle process and become the world’s first authority on rapid-hardening cement. No, there was no fear that King would not do his best.
And King’s best was supremely good. At the works he was jack of all trades and master of all. As well as overseeing all the tests, he took charge of the quarry from which the limestone was obtained, of the dredging of the slob, of the machinery, the crushers, the rotary kiln, the ball mills, the screens, elevators and other appliances; of the decauville tramways laid throughout the works, of the wharf at which the ‘puffers’ and small craft were loaded.
And his management was quite first class. As a result of his effort the organism functioned like clockwork. He saw chalk and slob leaving their respective deposits and arriving to the second at the crushers and mixers. The moment the kilns were ready for more slurry, that was the moment at which just the required amount of slurry was delivered to them. When enough clinker was produced to move, that was the instant the conveyor was ready to carry it to the ball mills. No machine was delivering less than full output because of supplies of material running short: none was choked through getting too much. The plant in fact was continuously putting out the maximum of which it was capable. To have to scrap all that excellence would be to King as bitter as gall.
Brand glanced out of the window before turning back to the table to write his minutes. It was a gorgeous July day, with rich warm sunshine and a cloudless sky. The outlook was delightful. Before him stretched the estuary of the Hamble, its drab sloblands hidden by a full tide, blue as the Mediterranean. At the other side, quarter of a mile or more away, was the little village of Hamble, and the low grass-covered shores of Hamble Common, stretching down towards Southampton Water. By standing at the right of the window and looking sideways across it, Brand could get a glimpse of Southampton Water itself, and the opposite coast near Calshot. Occasionally from this window he had seen the forms of great liners creeping up to Southampton. Seaplanes were constantly in view, indeed the heavy drone of aircraft from the Calshot depot was seldom out of his ears. Brand liked the country. Apart from everything else, he would be sorry if he had to leave it.
By the time he had written up his minutes, the steam whistle had blown for the dinner hour. There was a small canteen in connection with the works and from this lunch for the three chief officers was sent up to the boardroom. Brand cleared his books away as Tasker and King came in.
Though it was an unwritten law that during lunch shop must not be talked, for once the rule was relaxed. The minds of all were too full of the morning’s events to think about other matters. But it was not until the coffee was finished and cigarettes were lit up that the discussion became purposeful.
‘I’ve been thinking over one point,’ declared King after a short silence, ‘and though it’s outside my province, I perhaps might mention it. I wondered if there wasn’t another line of investigation that you, Tasker, might follow? Not to tell you your business, you know, old man.’
Tasker looked at him gravely. ‘If any of us try to stand on our dignity now,’ he declared, ‘we’ll deserve all that may be coming to us. Anyone who can think of anything that might help us is a public benefactor and deserves a medal. Go ahead.’
‘I thought you’d feel like that,’ King returned. ‘There’s probably nothing in this idea, but I think it’s worth discussion. Why not carry the war into the enemy’s camp?’
Tasker lit another cigarette. ‘Meaning just what?’ he demanded.
King lowered his voice. ‘Why not see Haviland or Mairs or somebody from Chayle and put it to them that they’re underselling us, and how are they doing it? You could speak in a sort of joking way. I don’t suppose they’d give you a straight answer, but you might get something out of them.’
Tasker did not reply and Brand interposed: ‘You’ve never spoken to either of them on the subject?’
‘No,’ said Tasker at length, ‘I never have. I’ve thought of it, I admit, but it seemed to me I might do more harm than good—that we’d be better if they didn’t know what we were after.’
‘You needn’t mention the new cement,’ Brand pointed out: ‘only that they’re underselling us.’
‘Merely to ask how they’re underselling us would scarcely be productive, I’m afraid. Had you any idea of what I might say, King?’
‘What I had in mind was that you might insinuate that we’d be willing to pay something to come in with them.’
Tasker nodded approvingly. ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘that’s talking. I could put it that we’d like an idea of what it would cost us to come in as you suggest. What do you say, Brand?’
Brand thought it was a darned good notion.
‘All the same, I’m not sure that we should move at once,’ Tasker went on. ‘I think, King, it depends on your success or failure. If you succeed it would be better that they shouldn’t know that we were alive to the question at all. If you fail, it would be a second string to our bow.’
This seemed reasonable to both the others, and it was decided that action on the matter should be postponed. Then King turned to a subsidiary point. ‘By the way, Tasker, how would you propose actually to get in touch with those two? Would you call on them?’
‘No: making too much of it. I’d accidentally meet Haviland in the train. He goes to Town to the meeting every Friday, and returns by the 4.50 from Waterloo to Portsmouth. I’ve only to get into the tea car and be surprised and pleased when he turns up, and I think we could drift naturally enough into conversation.’
‘Good idea,’ King approved. ‘Now, Tasker, there’s another thing I want to speak to you about. These experiments that I’ve undertaken; there’s a lot of work in them.’
‘I shouldn’t have thought you’d mind that.’
‘I don’t mind it, as you know perfectly well. I’d be quite willing to spend the rest of my life at them. But I’ve only been given a month. That means that a lot of experiments will have to run simultaneously. I can’t do a number simultaneously. What I want, Tasker, is some technical help.’
Tasker made a grimace. ‘What would that cost us?’ he asked.
King shrugged. ‘Not very much. A couple of young men at four or five pounds a week each. I shouldn’t want anybody very skilled, because I would supervise everything myself. They would just have to be operating chemists—not theoretical men.’
‘For one month,’ said Tasker. ‘All right: I agree. You’ll get them yourself?’
‘Yes, I’ll ring up Town now and have ’em down tonight.’
‘I wonder,’ Brand suggested, ‘if I could lend a hand also? I’m not so busy now, and Harper, that clerk of mine, is a good fellow and could do some of my work. I’m not a chemist, but I know something about it and I believe I could work under King’s instructions.’
‘Fine!’ King exclaimed delightedly. ‘That’ll be four of us. We should be able to make things hum. You agree, Tasker?’