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possibly?'

'Possibly.'

'Oh, come. We've had a drink a dozen times in: the past months. Strangers? Hardly. We all know why you've been searching those damned forests for the past four months and other huge stretches of the Amazon and Parana basins for the past four years. For the fabled Lost City of the Mato Grosso — if that is indeed where it is — for the golden people who lived there - who may still live there — most of all for the fabled man who found it. Huston. Dr Hannibal Huston. The famous explorer who vanished into the forests all those many years ago and was never seen again.'

'You talk in cliches,' Hamilton said.

Hiller smiled. 'What newspaperman doesn't?'

'Newspaperman?'

'Yes.'

'Odd. I'd have put you down for something else.'

Hiller laughed. 'A con? A convict on the lamp-Nothing so romantic, I'm afraid.' He leaned forward, suddenly serious. 'Listen. As I said, we all know why you're out here — no offence, Hamilton, but goodness knows you've told everyone often enough - although why I don't know - I'd have thought you'd have kept it secret from everybody.'

'Three good reasons, my friend. In the first place, there has to be some reason to account for my presence here. Secondly, anybody will tell you that I know the Mato Grosso better than any white man and no one would dream of following me where I go. Finally, the more people who know what I'm after the greater the likelihood that some person, some time and in some place will drop a hint or a clue that could be invaluable to me.'

'I was under the impression that you didn't require hints or clues any longer.'

'That's as maybe. Just you go ahead and form any impressions you like.'

'Well, all right. So. Ninety-nine per cent of the people laugh at your wild notions, as they call them - though God knows there's not a man in Romono would dare say it to your face. But I belong to the one per cent. I believe you. I further believe that your search is over and that the dream has come true. I'd like to share in a dream, I'd like to help a man, my employer, make his dream come true.'

'I'm deeply moved,' Hamilton said sardonically. 'I'm sorry - well, no, Pm not really -- but something gives here that I just can't figure. And besides, Hiller, you are an unknown quantity.'

'Is the McCormick-Mackenzie International?'

'Is it what?'

'Unknown,'

'Of course not. One of the biggest multinational companies in the Americas. Probably the usual bunch of crooks using the usual screen of a battery of similarly crooked international lawyers to bend the laws any which way that suits them.'

Hiller took a deep breath, manfully restraining himself. 'Because I'm in the position of asking a favour of you, Hamilton, I won't take exception to that. In point of fact the record of McCormick-Mackenzie is impeccable. They have never been investigated, far less impeached on any count.'

'Smart lawyers. Like I said.'

'You can be glad that Joshua Smith is not here to hear you say that.'

Hamilton was unimpressed. 'He the owner?'

'Yes. And the Chairman and Managing Director.'

'The multi-millionaire industrialist? If we're' talking about the same man?'

'We are.'

'And the owner of the largest newspaper and' magazine chain in the Americas. Well, well, well.' He broke off and stared at Hiller. 'So that's why you —'

'Exactly.'

'So. He's your boss, a newspaper magnate. And you're one of his newspapermen, and a pretty senior one at that, 1 would guess - I mean, he wouldn't send out a cub reporter on a story like this. Very well. Your connections, your credentials' established. But I still don't see -'

'What don't you see?'

'This man. Joshua Smith. A multi-millionaire. A bulti-millionaire. Anyway, as rich as Croesus. What's left on earth for him that he doesn't already have? What more can a man like that want?' Hamilton took a long pull at his whisky. 'In short, what's in it for him?'

'You are a suspicious bastard, aren't you, Hamilton? Money? Of course not. Are you in it for the