“Not that we are aware of,” said Sir Francis guardedly.
“And it can’t be a financial problem,” said Young, passing the letter back to Hinks, “because thanks to Noel, we have more than enough money to cover any expenses Finch might require for his passage and equipment.”
“I’m afraid, Mallory, the truth is that the situation is a little more delicate than that,” said Hinks, as he closed the minute book and screwed the top back onto his fountain pen.
“Surely it can’t be anything to do with that business with the Governor-General’s wife?” said George.
“No, I fear it’s far worse than that unsavory incident,” said Hinks, taking off his half-moon spectacles and placing them on the table. George waited impatiently for Hinks to continue. “Without informing the RGS,” Hinks eventually said, “Finch accepted several speaking engagements up and down the country. These resulted in him making a considerable sum of money, of which the Society has not received one penny.”
“Was the Society entitled to one penny?” asked Young.
“It most certainly was,” said Hinks, “as Finch had signed a contract, just as you did, Mallory, to pass over fifty percent of any earnings he received as a consequence of the Everest expedition.”
“How much money is involved?” asked Young.
“We have no idea,” admitted Hinks, “as Finch refuses to submit any accounts, despite several requests for him to do so. In the end, the Society had no choice but to issue a writ demanding what is rightfully ours.”
“I always said he was a cad from the start,” interjected Ashcroft. “This latest incident only proves that I was right.”
“Do you think the matter will come to court?” asked Young.
“I would hope not,” said Hinks. “But were it to do so, the case would probably be heard when the expedition is already in Tibet.”
“I’m sure the Sherpas will get very worked up about that,” said George.
“This is no laughing matter,” said Sir Francis gravely.
“Is there anyone around this table who believes this latest misdemeanor will in any way affect Finch’s climbing ability?” asked Young.
“That’s not the point, Young,” said Hinks, “and you know it.”
“It will be the point,” said George, “when I’m standing at 27,000 feet and have to decide who to select to partner me for the final climb.”
“You’ll still have Norton and Somervell to choose between,” Hinks reminded him.
“And they would be the first to admit they aren’t in Finch’s class.”
“Surely, Mallory, you must accept that the RGS has been left with little or no choice following this latest incident.”
“It is not the RGS’s God-given right to make the decision as to who should and should not be in the climbing party,” said Mallory. “Just in case you’ve forgotten, Mr. Hinks, this is the Everest Committee.”
“I say, Mallory,” interjected Ashcroft, “I think that was a bit ripe.”
“Then let me ask you, Commander,” George spat out, “with all your vast experience of being above sea-level, who do you consider would be the obvious choice to take Finch’s place?”
“I’m glad you raised that question, Mallory,” interjected Hinks, “because I believe we have come up with a suitable replacement.”
“And who might that be?” asked Mallory.
“A young man called Sandy Irvine. He’s an Oxford rowing blue, and has agreed to stand in despite the short notice.”
“As it’s not my intention to row up Everest, Mr. Hinks, perhaps you could let us know what climbing experience Mr. Irvine has, because I’ve never heard of him.”
Hinks smiled for the first time. “It seems that your friend Odell was very impressed with the lad when they climbed together inside the Arctic Circle last year, and Irvine was the first to reach the summit of the highest peak on Spitsbergen.” Hinks looked rather pleased with himself.
“Spitsbergen,” interjected Young, “is for promising novices, and in case you didn’t know, Mr. Hinks, its highest peak is about 5,600 feet.”
“So when I’m next looking for someone to keep me company for the first 5,600 feet,” said George, “let me assure you, Mr. Hinks, that Irvine’s will be the first name that springs to mind.”