Thunder Point

“I know,” Dillon said grimly, “and she didn’t get that from any accident. If she’d fallen on her face from such a height it would have been smashed completely.”

He took her hand and she opened her eyes. “Dillon?”

“That’s right, Jenny.”

“I’m sorry, Dillon, sorry I let you down.”

“You didn’t let us down, Jenny. We found the U-boat. Carney and I went down together.”

“Sure, Jenny.” Carney leaned over. “We blew a hole in her and we found Bormann’s briefcase.”

She didn’t really know what she was saying, of course, but carried on. “I told him, Dillon, I told him you had gone to Thunder Point.”

“Told who, Jenny?”

“The man with the scar, the big scar from his eye to his mouth.”

“Algaro,” Carney said.

She gripped Dillon’s hand lightly. “He hurt me, Dillon, he really hurt me. Nobody ever hurt me like that,” and she closed her eyes and drifted off again.

When Dillon turned, the rage on his face was a living thing. “He’s a dead man walking, Algaro, I give you my word,” and he brushed past Carney and went downstairs.

The front door was open, Billy sitting on the porch, and Mary was pouring coffee. “You gonna have some?”

“Just a quick one,” Dillon said.

“How is she?”

“Drifted off again,” Carney told her as he came out on the porch.

Dillon nodded to him and moved to the other end of the porch. “Let’s examine the situation. It was probably round about midnight Algaro put the screws on Jenny and found out that we’d gone to Thunder Point.”

“So?”

“No sign of the opposition turning up, either there or on the way back. Does Max Santiago seem the kind of man who’d just give up at this point?”

“No way,” Carney said.

“I agree. I think it much more likely he decided to try and relieve us of Bormann’s briefcase at the earliest opportunity.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.”

“Good.” Dillon swallowed his black coffee and put the cup down. “Let’s get back to Caneel fast. You check around the general area of Caneel Beach, the bar, the dock and I’ll find Ferguson. We’ll meet up in the bar later.”

They went back to Mary and Billy. “You boys going?” Mary asked.

“Got to,” Dillon said. “What about you?”

“Billy will run things down at the bar, but me, I’m going to St. Thomas with Jenny.”

“Tell her I’ll be in to see her,” Dillon said. “Don’t forget now,” and he hurried down the steps followed by Carney.

When Dillon hammered on the door of 7E it was opened by Ferguson holding a flannel loaded with ice cubes to his head.

“What happened?” Dillon demanded.

“Algaro happened. I was in the shower and the door was locked. God knows how he got in, but I walked out of the bathroom and there he was with one of the other men. I did my best, Dillon, but the bastard had a Browning. Clouted me across the head.”

“Let me see.” Dillon examined it. “It could be worse.”

“They had an inflatable on the beach and took off for Maria Blanco. It was anchored out there.”

Dillon pulled up the venetian blinds in one of the windows. “Well it isn’t now.”

“I wonder where he’s gone, back to San Juan perhaps.” Ferguson scowled. “I saw him in the stern through those field glasses, saw Algaro give him the briefcase. He seemed to know I was watching. He raised the case in one hand and waved with the other.” Ferguson scowled. “Cheeky bastard.”

“I told Carney we’d see him in the bar,” Dillon said. “Come on, we’d better go and break the bad news and decide what we’re going to do.”

In the darkest corner of the bar, Ferguson and Dillon shared a table. The Brigadier was enjoying a large Scotch tinkling with ice while Dillon had contented himself with Evian water and a cigarette. Carney came in quickly to join them and called to the waitress, “Just a cold beer.”

“What happened?”

“I checked with a friend who was out fishing. They passed him heading south-east, which means they must be going to Samson Cay.”

Dillon actually laughed. “Right, you bastard, I’ve got you now.”

“What on earth do you mean?” Ferguson demanded.

“The Maria Blanco will be anchored off Samson tonight, and if you remember, the general manager, Prieto, told us that Santiago always stays on board when he’s there. It’s simple. We’ll go in under cover of darkness and I’ll get the briefcase back, if Carney will run us down there in Sea Raider of course.”

“Try stopping me,” Carney told him.

Ferguson shook his head. “You don’t give up easily, do you, Dillon.”

“I could never see the point.” Dillon poured more Evian water and raised his glass.

15

It was toward evening as Dillon and Ferguson waited on the dock at Caneel Bay, sitting on the bench, the Irishman smoking a cigarette, the olive-green military holdall on the ground between them.

“I think that’s him now,” Ferguson said and pointed and Dillon saw Sea Raider coming in from the sea, slowly to negotiate the moored yachts. There were still people on the beach, some of them swimming in the evening sun, laughter drifting across the water.

Ferguson said, “From what I know of Santiago, I should think he’d be ready to repel boarders. Do you really think you can pull this off?”

“Anything’s possible, Brigadier.” Dillon shrugged. “You don’t need to come, you know. I’d understand.”

“I’ll overlook the insult this time,” Ferguson said coldly, “but don’t ever say something like that to me again, Dillon.”

Dillon smiled. “Cheer up, Brigadier. I’ve no intention of dying at a place called Samson Cay. After all, I’ve got a dinner at the Garrick Club to look forward to again with you.”

He got up and moved to the edge of the dock as Sea Raider drifted in. He waved up to Carney, jumped across the gap, got the fenders over, then threw a line to the Brigadier. Carney killed the engines and came down the ladder as they finished tying up.

“I’ve refuelled so everything’s shipshape. We can leave any time you like.”

Ferguson passed the holdall to Dillon and stepped across as Dillon took it into the deckhouse and put it on one of the benches.

At that moment the receptionist who’d given them the news about Jenny when they’d come in earlier came along the dock. “I’ve just taken a phone call from Mary Jones at St. Thomas Hospital, Mr. Dillon. She’d like for you to call her back.”

Carney said, “I’ll come with you.”

The Brigadier nodded. “I’ll wait here and keep my fingers crossed.”

Dillon stepped over the side and turned along the dock, Carney at his side.