The Mouse That Saved The West: ebook Edition (The Grand Fenwick Series 4)

by Leonard Wibberley

  "By God, sir," he said, "I underestimated you. I thought you some pettifogging account juggler who had risen to the top in the dreary world of commerce. But you actually are a man of genius, worthy to take your place among the statesmen of history." He held out his hand and shook Birelli's warmly.

  "You are agreed?" asked Birelli.

  "To the hilt," Mountjoy said. "The plan is brilliant, but working it out will take a great deal of consultation between the two of us."

  "I have already worked it out," Birelli said. "But of course I will need your approval, and you understand that everything I suggest may be changed if you so desire.

  "First we must have the announcement of the location of a sea of oil, amounting to many billions of barrels, readily accessible and lying below the surface of the Duchy."

  "Perne's Folly would be the best location," Mountjoy said.

  "Perne's what?"

  "Perne's Folly. It's an area of about a quarter of a mile square, wasteland good for no purpose at all, on which oil derricks can be erected cheek by jowl if you wish without the slightest harm to the countryside or the ecology."

  "Who was Perne?" asked Birelli.

  "Oh, it's a long story and of no significance," said Mountjoy. "He was a French knight, something of an eccentric, who wished to buy land in Grand Fenwick. He was sold the quarter of a mile of wasteland which thereafter was called Perne's Folly. He was actually something of an artist," he added and then was quiet, for he did not wish to say anything more on the subject. "As I say, that land is the very best place for the erection of what do you call them—drilling rigs?" he continued. "And everybody in Grand Fenwick has a curious belief that Perne's Folly contains hidden riches—gold, diamonds, what you will, of which Perne was aware. The perfect spot, in fact."

  Birelli was a little puzzled by all this but put it aside as trivial. The two talked on and on until the major aspects of the plan were agreed. The details were to be worked out by Mountjoy in consultation with Birelli if need be.

  When Birelli was about to leave, Mountjoy said to him, almost casually, "There are two minor conditions from my side which I would like to be met to conclude our bargain."

  "What are they?" asked Birelli.

  "I would like the immediate supply—by tomorrow if possible—of sufficient heating oil for me to get a decent hot bath and to supply our small power station here in the Duchy, so that hot water and electric power and light are once more available to our people. Also sufficient petrol for Her Grace's Daimler and my own Rolls. In addition I should like to have the use of that helicopter for say three months."

  "Granted," said Birelli.

  "I presume that it was at your command that our supply of oil and gasoline was so drastically reduced—I might say cut off—in the first instance," said Mountjoy, "and I presume that this was done so that you could observe in Grand Fenwick the effect of such privation on larger nations."

  "It was indeed I who ordered supplies cut off," said Birelli. "But not for the reasons you think."

  "Indeed," said the Count. "May I inquire then what were your reasons?"

  "Do you really require an explanation?" asked Birelli. "I thought the matter obvious. I wished, my dear Mountjoy, to engage your mind firmly on the oil crisis since your experience in statecraft is without parallel in Europe. I wished to prepare it to receive the plan which we have now agreed. That thought occurred to me when I realized that you had received a letter from the American Secretary of the Interior referring to the coming oil debacle, that your instinct for taking a hand in the direction of world affairs, demonstrated several times previously, might be aroused. I decided that by savagely reducing supplies to Grand Fenwick I could ensure that your instincts were indeed aroused since it would be your bull that was gored. I could then hope for the full cooperation of yourself and your esteemed Duchy in adjusting the situation to some level of sanity."

  Mountjoy poured himself and Birelli a glass of Pinot Grand Fenwick and, examining the red transparency of the precious wine with its little glints of gold here and there, reflected with admiration on the brilliance of Birelli. The man was a most talented liar. The cutting of supplies to Grand Fenwick, he decided, was probably a clerical error resulting from some nonsense with a computer. Either that or the known malevolence of the French. When this error had been brought to Birelli's attention (perhaps by the U.S. State Department) he had devised his present plan for a huge oil strike in Grand Fenwick to tumble world prices back to a level of reasonableness and had contrived meanwhile to see that no further oil reached the Duchy.

  "Your foresight is beyond peer, Mr. Birelli," he said, raising his glass. "You neglect nothing. I salute you." He put the glass to his lips and reflected with satisfaction that Birelli had neglected one thing.

  He had neglected the Q-bomb.

  CHAPTER XII

  As a first step toward inaugurating the great Grand Fenwick Oil Strike, Mountjoy wrote to the University of Lausanne, Switzerland, asking for the names of two geological graduates who had not done particularly well in their studies. The Swiss, as is well known to all the world, are the most obliging people and the university without demur sent him the names and addresses of two of their students who had just managed to struggle to the eminence of a degree.

  Mountjoy then wrote to them both. They were Johannes Dupin and Karl Stampfli, both of Geneva.

  He said he wished a geological survey to be made of a particular area of Grand Fenwick and their names had been suggested to him as eminently suitable for the task. The receipt of these letters astonished both Johannes and Karl, who as it happened had been friends at the university and were still friends now that they had been graduated. Johannes was working as a postal clerk and Karl as a conductor on a streetcar.

  Johannes was long and thin and red-haired and had a face which was covered with freckles the color of a carrot. Karl was short and fat and had exceedingly black hair, and at the university, being always together, they had been nicknamed Thunder and Lightning.

  "This Count of Mountjoy, whoever he is, must be a gifted imbecile," said Johannes when he had received the letter and called on his friend. "I think we had better reply that we are under contract and so cannot work for him, otherwise we may be sued for obtaining money under false pretenses."

  "Nonsense," said Karl. "Haven't we got degrees? Are we not geologists? Let us accept the offer. It will be easy to give him a geological survey of any part of Grand Fenwick he wishes. It will be just the same as that of the adjoining parts of France and Switzerland, and we can find that out from the university library before we leave."

  Johannes shook his head. "Nothing in Grand Fenwick is like any other place in the world," he said. "I've a feeling this will hold true of its geology."

  "My friend, licking stamps has cost you your courage," said Karl. "You must quit tomorrow while you still have a vestige of manhood left. We will go boldly to Grand Fenwick and give them a geological survey that will be remembered and indeed honored through the centuries for its high degree of imagination. I'll get it all together from the university library in advance. The whole survey will be ready, including maps of the various formations, before we even cross the borders of the Duchy. Leave it to me."

  And so the two arrived in Grand Fenwick, took rooms at the Grey Goose and presented themselves to Mountjoy for their instructions.

  The Count meanwhile had told both Bentner and Gloriana about Birelli's plan for the Grand Fenwick oil strike.

  Bentner opposed it before Mountjoy had spoken more than a dozen words. "You're proposing an outright fraud," he said. "You are going to have Grand Fenwick exposed before the whole world as a nation of tricksters. When the truth is known—and it soon would be known—we will be the laughing stock of the whole world. The effect on our sales of wine and wool will be disastrous."

  "Of course it's a fraud," said Mountjoy. "But are you really of the impression, after all your years of experience in government, that fraud, pretense, deceit and chicanery
of every kind are not the legitimate and proper tools of statesmanship? Do you really believe that at international conferences, for instance, each nation honestly and frankly exposes its true position, announces its weaknesses, admits its inferiority, economically, militarily and at every level and out of it comes an equitable agreement?

  "Of course not. If that were the case there would be no need for vigorous international espionage, for what are called 'intelligence officers' and 'political officers' attached to embassies in every country—each with his network of spies spread throughout the host nation. Espionage, deceit, fraud, the delicate coloring of the truth—these form the basis of international exchange and international concord. These are the things each nation expects of the other, and indeed were one to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, the delicate system would be destroyed. It is close to dishonorable, my friend, to be truthful in dealings with other nations. Plain honesty is tantamount to betraying one's own country, and taking unscrupulous advantage of other nations—it is something so outrageous that it would not be tolerated in a civilized society." This left Bentner somewhat bewildered. But he still thought Mountjoy's plan too dangerous and said so.

  "It can't work," he insisted. "You'd have to have oil wells pumping oil, not just a lot of derricks all over the place pumping nothing. There would have to be storage tanks full of oil and pipelines and how are you going to get away with that?"

  "Mere details," said Mountjoy. "Leave all to me. If anything goes wrong I shall take complete responsibility and resign. Indeed retire from political life. You will then become Prime Minister with no rival in sight anywhere to challenge your position."

  "You would stake your political career on this—this hoax?" asked Bentner incredulously.

  "I would indeed," replied Mountjoy. "It is a small stake when so large a gain for mankind may be won."

  Bentner went away disturbed, dissatisfied but sworn to secrecy. "I wash my hands of the whole thing," he said.

  "In your case, that is the very best thing to do," said Mountjoy.

  Gloriana was quite as dubious about the scheme as Bentner, though Mountjoy explained again and again the huge advantage which could be gained by stabilizing and reducing oil prices, revitalizing industry and checking a ruinous, international inflation.

  "Even if those advantages are to be had," the Duchess said, "I don't see how you can pull the wool over people's eyes. I mean, we'll have to show some oil coming out of Grand Fenwick. Where would you put the two billion barrels of oil that Birelli is talking about?"

  "Your Grace," said Mountjoy. "It would be better if you did not know at present. Should anything go wrong, I would not like the slightest tarnish of suspicion to touch you. I have told you of the matter out of a sense of personal loyalty. In fact it was my duty to inform you of it. Officially, Your Grace, I trust you will agree that I have told you nothing."

  "Sometimes it is very hard to follow you, Bobo," said Gloriana.

  "Your Grace," said Mountjoy, "you have unerringly hit upon the right position for you. You have had a chat with an old friend, Bobo. Your Prime Minister has told you nothing."

  "I still don't know where you are going to put two billion barrels of oil," said Gloriana.

  "I beg Your Grace to trust me when I assure you that I will find a container," said Mountjoy. After this interview he rang for his butler and said, "Have young Fotheringham, the steward, consult with whomever he needs to consult with and tell me what is the cubic capacity of the main dungeon."

  "Cubic capacity, my lord?" said Meadows. "Exactly. I would like to know how much water it would hold if it were made watertight."

  The butler went off on his errand wondering whether his master was not slipping into senility at last, as some who opposed him believed. "Water in the dungeon," he muttered to himself. "I suppose he's not thinking of heating it for one last glorious hot bath?"

  It was then that Johannes and Karl arrived and, having sent their names up to the castle, were granted an interview with Mountjoy.

  "I'm delighted to meet you, gentlemen," said the Count. "I have an extremely important task for the two of you to perform and I may say I selected you for this task after examining the geological ability not only of all the graduates at Lausanne for the last five years but at Geneva as well.

  "Among all those graduates, you two alone had all the qualifications required for the undertaking which I propose to put into your hands." They were sitting nervously in easy chairs on either side of the fireplace as Mountjoy spoke.

  "We have?" Karl asked, surprised to find that his voice had risen an octave.

  "You have indeed," said Mountjoy. "You are easily the worst geologists in Switzerland. Yet you have degrees in geology. That is exactly what I required."

  Johannes was a little angry. "I protest, sir," he said. "I received my degree honorably from the University of Lausanne having passed the written requirements."

  "Of course you did," Mountjoy said. "I have a copy of your thesis. It is one of many put on sale by an American publishing company to aid students facing the difficulty of passing an examination on a subject of which they know nothing. Astute people, the Americans.

  "But, gentlemen, do not be disturbed about this. When you have been in the political field as long as I you will find it is quite normal, indeed a feature of our governmental system, to put into high office people who have not the slightest qualifications for the position. Film actors may these days become Presidents, and Presidents of dubious literary qualification, authors of best-selling books. In your own instance, being utterly unqualified for the work I wish you to perform is precisely what is required of you. I am delighted to have found you and delighted that you have agreed to accept my assignment."

  "Your assignment, as I understand it, is to make a geological survey of a particular area of Grand Fenwick," Karl said.

  "Correct—except for one provision, and before I reveal it to you I must bind you to complete secrecy. Not a word of what passes between us must ever get out of this study. Are we agreed?"

  "Agreed," said Karl.

  "Agreed," said Johannes. "But what is this provision?"

  "I want you to find oil—oil in prodigious quantities," Mountjoy said. "Twenty billion barrels of highest-grade crude," he added. Johannes and Karl both blanched, exchanged desperate looks and shook their heads.

  "Out of the question," said Johannes. "Even though we are the worst geologists in Switzerland and perhaps in Europe, we do know that no oil is to be found in a granitic formation which constitutes the basic rock of Grand Fenwick. We looked that up in the library before we got here," he added.

  "Gold?" suggested Karl. "I think you sometimes find gold in granite."

  "How about tin?" asked Johannes.

  "Oil," said Mountjoy firmly. "Twenty billion barrels of the finest oil. All you have to do is pick some suitable spot in the area called Perne's Folly, announce that examination of the rock formation indicates that a vast reservoir of oil lies below the surface, and have a test well drilled there."

  "It'll be a dry hole," said Karl. "There won't be any oil."

  "Come, gentlemen," said Mountjoy. "Despite your qualifications you should have a little more faith in yourselves. You can surely find some marine formation overlaid by a granite crust. Heavens, I could do that myself with a pickax and two buckets of shells brought from the nearest beach. Have you brought any electronic instruments—things for detecting what lies under the earth? I'd like to have something to impress people."

  "We brought hammers," said Karl. "You know. For chipping pieces off rocks."

  "Hmmm," Mountjoy said, disappointed. "All right. Do the best you can. Just a minute. I've remembered something."

  He rang for the butler and when he appeared said, "My father had a pair of monstrous earphones here at one time when he was experimenting with an early wireless set. Something to do with crystals, if I remember correctly."

  "Oh, yes," said the butler. "The whole appar
atus is in the museum. I do believe it still works."

  "Excellent," Mountjoy said. "Be good enough to bring it and give it to these gentlemen. They're interested in these things." The early-day crystal set with its two great earphones was produced and presented to the two neogeologists. "I suggest one of you carry the box and the other of you put the earphones on and just plow around looking serious. If a man called Stedforth comes to question you, tell him you're geologists and you're making a survey of Perne's Folly at my request. He's the editor of our newspaper. Don't tell him you're looking for oil. If he wants to know anything more, send him to me. I'll deal with him."

  "Won't he recognize the crystal set for what it is?" asked Johannes.

  "Heavens no," said Mountjoy. "He's much too young. Just tell him it's a metal detector or a box of sandwiches. He really won't know the difference."

  Somewhat dubiously the two returned to the tavern, determined to start their work on the following morning and get out of Grand Fenwick as fast as they could.

  CHAPTER XIII

  Despite their good intentions, Johannes and Karl did not get to work early the following morning. After leaving Mountjoy the two stopped in at the public bar of the Grey Goose for a glass of October ale. This proved so good that they had one or two more, and under the friendly questioning of the people of Grand Fenwick who themselves dropped by for refreshment, confessed that they were geologists of some importance, had arrived from Switzerland, and were to undertake a survey in Perne's Folly.

  Geologists were not unknown to Grand Fenwick. A thin stratum of pre-Cambrian formation, overlaid by granite, had been uncovered in cutting the two-lane road (it could hardly be called a highway) which circled the Duchy and eventually connected, outside the Duchy's border, with the French military road along which all commerce and mail for the Duchy traveled.

  Pre-Cambrian deposits being rare in Europe, professors of geology often brought groups of students to examine the Grand Fenwick formation—a matter of the greatest pride to the people of the Duchy, who were delighted to know that their country, geologically at least, was a great deal older than much of the rest of the continent.