down on the bottom. Ferguson, Carney and Dillon all survived.
“Damn them to hell!” Algaro said angrily.
“Soon enough.” Santiago sat there, frowning.
Serra said, “Have you any order, Senor?”
“Yes.” Santiago turned to Algaro. “After lunch, you take Guerra and go to St. John in the launch. The girl should arrive at around six in the evening.”
“You wish us to bring her to you, Senor?”
“That won’t be necessary. Just find out what she knows, I’m sure that’s not beyond your capability.”
Algaro’s smile was quite evil. “At your orders, Senor,” and he withdrew.
Serra waited patiently while Santiago poured more coffee. “How long will the launch take to make the run to Cruz Bay?” Santiago asked.
“Depending on the weather, two to two and a half hours, Senor.”
“About the same time as the
“Yes, Senor.”
Santiago nodded. “I may want to return to our mooring at Paradise some time tonight. I’m not sure. It depends on events. In any case, get me Sir Francis in London.”
It took twenty minutes for Serra to run Pamer to earth and he finally located him at a function at the Dorchester. He sounded rather irritated when he came to the phone. “Who is this? I hope it’s important, I’ve got a speech to make.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll do marvelously, Francis.”
There was a pause and Pamer said, “Oh, it’s you, Max, how are things?”
“We succeeded in locating the old man you mentioned, Jackson. What a mind. Quite remarkable. Remembered everything about nineteen forty-five in sharpest detail.”
“Oh, my God,” said Pamer.
Santiago, who had never seen any point in not facing up to the facts of any situation, carried on, “Luckily for you, he had an accident when changing a wheel on his car and has gone to a better place.”
“Please, Max, I don’t want to know this.”
“Don’t be silly, Francis, this is hold-on-to-your-nerves time, particularly as the old boy told everything he knew to Ferguson before my man helped him on his way. Unfortunate that.”
“Ferguson knows?” Pamer felt as if he were about to choke and tore at his tie. “About my mother and father, Samson Cay, Martin Bormann?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“But what are we going to do?”
“Get rid of Ferguson obviously, Dillon as well, and Carney. The girl arrives this evening and my information is that she knows where the U-boat is. She’ll be of no further use after that, of course.”
“For God’s sake, no,” Pamer implored and suddenly turned quite cold. “I’ve just thought of something. My secretary asked me if there was anything wrong with my financial affairs this morning. When I asked her why, she told me she’d noticed a trace being run through the computer. I didn’t think anything of it. I mean, when you’re a Minister, they keep these various checks going for your own protection.”
“Right,” Santiago said. “Have the source checked at once and report back to me.”
He handed the phone to Serra. “You know, Serra,” he said, “it’s a constant source of amazement to me, the frequency with which I become involved with stupid people.”
When Ferguson, Dillon and Carney drove down to Reef Bay in Carney’s jeep, they could see the Cessna suspended on the end of the crane at the stern of the salvage boat, clear of the water. There were three men on deck in diving suits and one in a peaked cap, denim shirt and jeans. Carney whistled, the man turned, waved then, dropped into an inflatable at the side of the boat, started the outboard and aimed for shore.
He came up the beach holding Ferguson’s Malacca cane, and said to Carney, “This belong to somebody?”
Ferguson reached for it. “I’m deeply indebted to you. Means a great deal to me.”
Carney introduced them. “What’s the verdict, or haven’t you had time yet?”
“Hell, it’s open and shut,” the salvage captain said and turned to Dillon. “Bo tells me your oil pressure gauge went wild?”
“That’s true.”
“Not surprising. The filler cap was blown off. That kind of pressure is usually only generated when there’s a substantial amount of water in the oil. As the engine heats up, the water turns to steam and there you go.”
“Wouldn’t you say it was kind of strange to have that much water in the oil?” Carney asked.
“Not for me to say. What is certain is some vandal or other intended you harm. Somebody went to work on the bottom of the floats with what looks like a fire axe, that’s why your landing was fouled. The moment you hit the water, it poured into those floats.” He shrugged. “The rest, you know. Anyway, we’ll haul her back to St. Thomas. I’ll arrange repairs and keep you posted.” He shook his head. “You guys were real lucky,” and he went back to the inflatable and returned to the salvage boat.
They sat in a booth at Jenny’s Place and Mary Jones brought them chowder and hunks of French bread. Billy supplied the beer, ice-cold, and shook his head. “You gents must live right. I mean, you shouldn’t be here.”
He walked away and Dillon said, “So you were wrong, Brigadier, he did try to have us killed. Why?”
“Maybe it had something to do with what that old guy Jackson said,” Carney put in.
“Yes, that would be part of it, but I’m still surprised,” Ferguson said. “I still thought we had our uses.”
“Well, we sure will have when Jenny gets in,” Carney told him.
“Let’s hope so.” The Brigadier raised his arm. “Let’s have some more beer, innkeeper, it really is quite excellent.”
When Pamer called Santiago back it was six o’clock in the evening in London.
“It couldn’t be worse,” he said. “That computer trace has been authorized by Detective Inspector Lane, he’s Ferguson’s assistant at the moment, on temporary loan from Special Branch. It’s a check on my family’s financial background, Max, searching way back. I’m finished.”
“Don’t be a fool. Just stay cool. Just think of the time scale. If you consider when Ferguson found out about you, he can only have had time to speak to this Lane and tell him to start digging.”
“But what if he’s spoken to Simon Carter or the P.M.?”
“If he had, you’d know by now, and why should he? Ferguson’s played this whole thing very close to his chest and that’s the way he’ll continue.”
“But what about Lane?”
“I’ll have him taken care of.”
“For God’s sake no,” Pamer moaned. “I can’t take any more killing.”
“Do try to act like a man occasionally,” Santiago said. “And you do have one consolation. Once we have the Bormann documents in our hands, the Windsor Protocol should prove a very useful tool to have in your possession, and there must be people whose fathers or grandfathers appear in the Blue Book who’d give anything to prevent that fact coming out.” He laughed. “Don’t worry, Francis, we’ll have lots of fun with this one.”
He replaced the phone, thought about it, then picked it up again and dialed another London number. He spoke in Spanish. “Santiago. I have a major elimination for you which must be carried out tonight. A Detective Inspector Jack Lane, Special Branch. I’m sure you can find the address.” He handed the phone back to Algaro. “And now, my friend, I think it’s time you and Guerra departed for St. John.”
It was half-past five when Jenny came in on the ferry to Cruz Bay. It was only a few hundred yards along the front to Jenny’s Place and when she went in there were already a few people at the bar, Billy Jones standing behind. He came round to meet her.
“Why, Miss Jenny, it’s so good to see you.”
“Is Mary here?”
“She sure is. In the kitchen getting things right for this evening. Just go through.”
