“I will in a moment. Did you speak to Dillon? Did you give him my message?”
“I did. He and that friend of his and Bob Carney have been as thick as thieves these past few days. I don’t know what’s going on, but something sure is.”
“So Dillon and Brigadier Ferguson are still at Caneel?”
“They sure are. You want to get in touch with him?”
“As soon as possible.”
“Well you know they don’t have telephones in the cottages at Caneel, but Dillon has a cellular phone. He gave me the number.” He went behind the bar, opened the cash register drawer and took out a piece of paper. “Here it is.”
Mary came through the kitchen door at that moment and came to a dead halt. “Jenny, you’re back.” She kissed her on the cheek, then held her at arm’s length. “You look terrible, honey, what you been doing?”
“Nothing much.” Jenny gave her a tired smile. “Just driving halfway across France, then catching a plane to London, another to Antigua, a third to St. Thomas. I’ve never felt so tired in my life.”
“What you need is food, a hot bath and a night’s sleep.”
“That’s a great idea, Mary, but I’ve things to do. A cup of coffee would be fine. Let me have it in the office, I want to make a telephone call.”
Algaro and Guerra had obtained the address of the house at Gallows Point from the fisherman who was Captain Serra’s contact in Cruz Bay. They had already paid the place a visit, although Algaro had decided against a forced entry at that time. They went back to the waterfront, watched the ferry come in from St. Thomas and the passengers disembark. Out of the twenty or so passengers only five were white and three of those were men. As the other woman was at least sixty, there was little doubt who the younger one with the suitcase was. They followed her at a discreet distance and saw her go up the steps to the cafe.
“What do we do now?” Guerra asked.
“Wait,” Algaro told him. “She’ll go to the house sooner or later.”
Guerra shrugged, took out a cigarette and lit it and they went and sat on a bench.
Dillon was actually swimming off Paradise beach, had left the cellular phone with his towel on a recliner on the beach. He heard the phone and swam as fast as he could to the shore.
“Dillon here.”
“It’s Jenny.”
“Where are you?”
“At the bar, I just got in. How have things been?”
“Well, let’s say it’s been lively and leave it at that. There were people waiting for me the moment I got here, Jenny, the wrong sort of people. There’s a man called Santiago, who was responsible for the break-in at Lord North Street, and those two thugs who tried to jump you by the Thames. He’s been hanging around here in a motor yacht called the
“Why?”
“He wants Bormann’s briefcase, it’s as simple as that.”
“But how did he know about the U-boat’s existence?”
“There was a leak at the London end of things, someone connected with Intelligence. You were right about Bob Carney. Quite a guy, but he’s not been able to come up with a solution. Do you really think you can help, Jenny?”
“It’s just an idea, so simple that I’m afraid to tell you, so let’s leave it until we meet.” She glanced at her watch. “Six o’clock. I could do with a hot bath and all the trimmings. Let’s say we’ll meet here at seven-thirty, and bring Bob.”
“Fine by me.”
Dillon put the phone down, toweled himself dry, then he picked it up and tried Carney’s house at Chocolate Hole. It was a while before he answered. “Dillon here.”
“I was in the shower.”
“We’re in business, Jenny’s just phoned me from the bar. She just got in.”
“Has she told you where it is?”
“No, she’s still being mysterious. She wants to see us at the bar at seven-thirty.”
“I’ll be there.”
Dillon rang off, then hurried back up the slope to the cottage to report to Ferguson.
When Jenny came out of the office Mary was standing at the end of the bar talking to her husband. “You still look like a bad weekend, honey,” she said.
“I know. I’m going to walk up to the house, have a shower and put on some fresh clothes, then I’m coming back. I’ve arranged to meet Dillon, Brigadier Ferguson and Bob Carney at seven-thirty.”
“You ain’t walking anywhere, honey. Billy, you take her up in the jeep, check out the house. Make sure everything’s in order, then bring her back when she’s ready. I’ll get young Annie from the kitchen to tend bar while you’re gone.”
“No need for that, Mary,” Jenny told her.
“It’s settled. Don’t give me no argument, girl. Now on your way.”
When Jenny emerged from the bar, Billy Jones was at her side carrying the suitcase. Algaro and Guerra followed them at a distance, saw them get in the jeep in the car park at Mongoose Junction and drive away.
“He’s taking her up to the house, I bet you,” Guerra said.
Algaro nodded. “We’ll walk up, it’s not far. He’ll have left by the time we get there. We’ll get her then.”
Guerra said, “No sign of Dillon or the other two. That means she hasn’t had a chance to speak to them yet.”
“And maybe she never will,” Algaro told him.
Guerra paused and licked his lips nervously. “Now look, I don’t want to get in anything like that, not with any woman. That’s bad luck.”
“Shut your mouth and do as you’re told,” Algaro told him. “Now let’s get moving.”
At the Ministry of Defence, just before midnight, the light still shone from the windows of Ferguson’s office overlooking Horse Guards Avenue. Jack Lane finished his preliminary reading of the first facts to emerge from the computer concerning the Pamer family and very interesting reading they made. But he’d done enough for one night. He put them in his briefcase, placed it in the secure drawer of his desk, got his raincoat, switched off the lights and left.
He came out of the Horse Guards Avenue entrance and walked along the pavement. The young man sitting behind the wheel of the stolen Jaguar on the opposite side of the road checked the photo on the seat beside him with a torch, just to make sure, then slipped it into a pocket. He wore glasses and a raincoat over a neat blue suit, looked totally ordinary.
He started the engine, watched Lane cross the road and start along Whitehall Court. Lane was tired and still thinking of the Pamer affair, glanced casually to the right, was aware of the Jaguar, but had plenty of time to cross the road. There was the sudden roar of the engine, he half-turned, too late, the Jaguar hit him with such force that he was flung violently to one side. Lane lay there, trying to push himself up, was aware that the Jaguar was reversing. The rear bumper fractured his skull, killing him instantly, and the car bumped over his body.
The young man got out and walked forward to check that the Inspector was dead. The street was quite empty, only the rain falling as he got back into the Jaguar, swerved around Lane’s body and drove away. Five minutes later he dumped the Jaguar in a side street off the Strand and walked rapidly away.
At Gallows Point, Jenny had a long hot shower and washed her hair while downstairs Billy opened shutters to air the rooms, got a broom and swept the front porch. Algaro and Guerra watched from the bushes nearby.
“Damn him, why doesn’t he go?” Algaro said.
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t advise trying anything with that one,” Guerra said. “They tell me he used to be
