Arawak Indians, and the owner of a house called 'High Hill' near Carrick Foyle in the parish of Trelawny.
That was the essence of the information supplied by the Ministry's Mr Latham.
'A tragedy, Mr McAuliff. He was an honoured man, a titled man. Jamaica will miss him greatly.'
'Miss him! Who killed him, Mr Latham?'
'As I understand it, there is very little to go on; the vehicle sped away, the description is contradictory.'
'It was broad daylight, Mr Latham.'
There was a pause on Latham's part. 'I know, Mr McAuliff. What can I say? You are an American; he was an American. I am Jamaican, and the terrible thing took place on a Kingston street. I grieve deeply for several reasons. And I did not know the man.'
Latham's sincerity carried over the wire. Alex lowered his voice. 'You say "the terrible thing." Do you mean more than an accident?'
'No. There was no robbery, no mugging. It was an accident. No doubt brought on by rum and inactivity. There is a great deal of both in Kingston, Mr McAuliff. The men... or children who committed the crime are undoubtedly well into the hills now. When the rum wears off, the fear will take its place; they will hide. The Kingston police are not gentle.'
'I see.' McAuliff was tempted to bring up the name 'Sam Tucker,' but he held himself in check. He had told Latham only that Piersall had left a message for him. He would say no more for the time being. 'Well, if there's anything I can do...'
'Piersall was a widower, he lived alone in Carrick Foyle. The police said they were getting in touch with a brother in Cambridge, Massachusetts... Do you know why he was calling you?'
'No idea.'
'A great deal of the survey will take place in Trelawny Parish. Perhaps he had heard and was offering you hospitality.'
'Perhaps... Mr Latham, is it logical that he would know about the survey?' Alex listened intently to Latham's reply. Again, Holcroft: Learn to spot the small things.
'Logical? What is logical in Jamaica, Mr McAuliff? It is a poorly kept secret that the Ministry - with the gracious help of our recent mother country - is undertaking an overdue scientific evaluation. A secret poorly kept is not really much of a secret. Perhaps it is not logical that Dr Piersall knew; it is certainly possible, however.'
No hesitations, no overly quick responses, no rehearsed words.
'Then I guess that's what he was calling about. I'm sorry.'
'I grieve.' Again Latham paused; it was not for effect. 'Although it may seem improper, Mr McAuliff, I should like to discuss the business between us.'
'Of course. Go ahead.'
'All of the survey permits came in late this morning... less than twenty-four hours. It generally takes the best part of a week...'
The processing was unusual, but Alex had come to expect the unusual with Dunstone, Limited. The normal barriers fell with abnormal ease. Unseen expediters were everywhere, doing the bidding of Julian Warfield.
Latham said that the Ministry had anticipated more, rather than less, difficulty, as the survey team would be entering the territory of the Cock Pit, miles of uninhabited country - jungle, really. Escorts were required, guides trained in the treacherous environs. And arrangements had to be made with the recognized descendants of the Maroon people, who, by a treaty of 1739, controlled much of the territory. An arrogant, warlike people, brought to the islands as slaves, the Maroons knew the jungles far better than their white captors. The British sovereign, George the First, had offered the Maroons their independence, with a treaty that guaranteed the Cock Pit territories in perpetuity. It was a wiser course than continuing bloodshed. Besides, the territory was considered unfit for white habitation.
For over 235 years that treaty was often scoffed at but never violated, said Latham. Formal permission was still sought by Kingston from the 'Colonel of the Maroons' for all those who wished to enter their lands.
The Ministry was no exception.
Yet the Ministry, thought McAuliff, was in reality Dunstone, Limited. So permissions were granted, permits obtained with alacrity.
'Your equipment was air-freighted to Boscobel,' said Latham. 'Trucks will transport it to the initial point of the survey.'
'Then I'll leave tomorrow afternoon or, at the latest, early the next day. I'll be hiring out of Ocho Rios; the others can follow when I'm finished. It shouldn't take more than a couple of days.'
'Your escort-guides, we call them "runners," will be available in two weeks. You will not have any need for them until then, will you? I