It seemed to work; his mouth twitched in a pitiful half-smile. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’ he said.

I told him why we’d come. I so wanted him to give me news about my parents that I couldn’t bring myself to ask him for it directly. To his credit, as I was rambling on about our motorbike journey he cut in. ‘I’m sorry, Jack,’ he said. ‘If they were here, I’d know. Either they’d have arrived with a fanfare, or security would have picked them up: the place is pretty much a fortress, as you guys found out.’ He paused, then went on tentatively, ‘I can help you look for them though. If they’re touring the … er … less professional mines in the area, someone here is bound to know.’

‘What do you mean by less professional?’ Amelia asked.

‘Let’s get you some water,’ he replied, ‘and I’ll explain.’

49.

Caleb led us to a standpipe set on the other side of the very Portakabin I’d spent so long watching through my peephole. Though Marcel hung back, I insisted he and he and Amelia drink before me. It was my fault they’d nearly been cooked alive after all. Once I’d drunk my own fill I’d ducked my whole head under the tap and let the blissful coolness run down the inside of my T-shirt. Then I looked around. From here we could see right into the huge open-cast mine, criss-crossed by diggers and trucks, plumes of dust in their wake. Caleb was banging on about the size of the operation, its efficiency and profitability, but not in a boastful way. He seemed to want to get something off his chest.

To help him I cut to the chase: ‘It’s a big mine. So what?’

‘It looks like a big mine, you’re right. But it’s a bigger processing plant.’

I looked at him blankly.

‘A lot more tantalum gets brought here from outside than is dug up mechanically on site.’

‘And that’s important why?’

‘Because of where it comes from, and who does the digging.’

Marcel, shifting from foot to foot, was listening intently, but Amelia said, ‘You mean it’s a front, a laundering operation of sorts, processing minerals dug up from restricted areas.’

Caleb nodded. ‘Guys deliver stuff here from all over by pickup, bike, even on foot. They’re counted in, paid in cash and counted out. The place is secure from prying eyes, but on the inside it’s an open secret: we take black-market precious minerals, process them and sell on the good stuff. Nobody here tries to hide it.’

‘Why are you telling us this?’ I asked.

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ said Amelia.

‘Not to me.’

‘Your mum and dad’s suspicions about Langdon’s business are true,’ she said flatly. ‘He’s corrupt.’

‘Yes, but –’