puckered up like those of a sulky child and he nodded at his constables. They had been briefed, and they went out through the oak door.
I heard the bolts shoot home, and Daly and I were alone. He was standing well away from me across the room - and the flap of his holster was unbuttoned.
“Does his excellency know about this, Daly?” I asked, still smiling.
“His excellency left St. Mary’s at four o’clock this after, noon to attend the conference of Commonwealth heads in London. He won’t be back for two weeks.”
I stopped smiling. I knew it was true. “In the meantime I have reason to believe the security of the State is endangered.” He smiled now, thinly and with the mouth only. “Before we go any further I want you to be sure I am serious.”
“I believe you,” I said.
“I have two weeks with you alone, here, Fletcher. These walls are pretty thick, you can make as much noise as you like.”
“You are a monstrous little turd, you really are.”
“There is only one of two ways you are going to leave here.
Either you and I come to an arrangement - or I’ll get Fred Coker to come and fetch you in a box.”
“Let’s hear your deal, little man.”
“I want to know exactly - and I mean exactly - where your charter carried out their diving operations before the shoot out.” “I told you - somewhere off Rastafa Point. I couldn’t give you the exact spot.”
“Fletcher, you know the spot to within inches. I’m willing to stake your life on that. You wouldn’t miss a chance like that. You know it. I know it - and they knew it. That’s why they tried to sign you off.”
“Inspector, go screw,” I said.
“What is more it was nowhere near Rastafa Point. You were working north of here, towards the mainland. I was interested - I had some reports of your movements.”
“It was somewhere off Rastafa Point,” I repeated doggedly. “Very well,” he nodded. “I hope you aren’t as tough as you put out, Fletcher, otherwise this is going to be a long messy business. Before we start though, don’t waste our time with false data. I’m going to keep you here while I check it out - I’ve got two weeks.”
We stared at each other, and my flesh began to crawl. Peter Daly was going to enjoy this, I realized. There was a gloating expression on those thin lips and a smoky glaze to his eyes.
“I had a great deal of experience in interrogation in Malaya, you know. Fascinating subject. So many aspects to it. So often it’s the tough, strong ones that pop first - and the little runts that hang on for ever.
This was for kicks, I saw clearly that he was aroused by the prospect of inflicting pain. His breathing had changed, faster and deeper, there was fresh colour in his cheeks.
“–of course, you are at a physical low ebb right now, Fletcher.
Probably your threshold of pain is much lowered after your recent misadventures. I don’t think it will take long.”
He seemed to regret that. I gathered myself, tightening up for an attempt.
“No,” he snapped. “Don’t do it, Fletcher.” He placed his hand on the butt of the pistol. He was fifteen feet away. I was one-armed, weak, there was a locked door behind me, two armed constables - my shoulders sagged as I relaxed.
“That’s better.” He smiled again. “Now I think we will handcuff you to the bars of a cell, and we can get to work. When you have had enough you have merely to say so. I think you will find my little electrical set-up simple but effective. It’s merely a twelve-volt car battery - and I clip the terminals on to interesting parts of the body-” He reached behind him - and for the first time I noticed the button of an electric bell set on the wall. He pressed it and I heard the bell ring faintly beyond the oaken door.
The bolts shot back and the two constables came back in.
“Take him through to the cells,” Daly ordered, and the constables hesitated. I guessed they were strangers to this type of operation.
“Come on,” snapped Daly, and they stepped up on either side of me.
Wally laid a hand lightly on my injured arm, and I allowed myself to be led forward towards the cells and Daly.
I wanted to have a chance at him, just one chance. “How’s your mom, Wally? I asked casually.
“She’s all right, Mister Harry,” he muttered embarrassedly.
“She get the present I sent up for her birthday?”
“Yeah, she got it.” He was distracted as I intended.
We had come level, with Daly. he was standing by the doorway to the cells, waiting for us to go through, slapping the malacca, swagger stick against his thigh.
The constables were holding me respectfully, loosely, unsure of themselves, and I stepped to one side pushing Wally slightly off balance - then I spun back, breaking free.
Not one of them was ready for it, and I covered the three paces to Daly before they had realized what I was doing - and I put my right knee into him with my full body weight behind it. It thumped into the crotch of his legs, a marvellously solid blow. Whatever the price I was going to have to pay for the pleasure, it was cheap.
Daly was lifted off his feet, a full eighteen inches in the air, and he flew backwards to crash against the bars. Then he doubled up, both hands pressed into his lower body, screaming thinly - a sound like steam from a boiling kettle. As he went over I lined up for another shot at his face, I wanted to take his teeth out with a kick in the mouth - but the constables recovered their wits and leaped forward to drag me away. They were rough now, twisting the arm.
“You didn’t ought to do that, Mister Harry,” Wally shouted angrily. His fingers bit into my bicep and I gritted my teeth.
“The President himself cleared me, Wally. You know that,” I shouted back at him, and Daly straightened up, his face twisted with agony, still holding himself.
“This is a frame up.” I knew I had only a few seconds to talk, Daly was reeling towards me, brandishing the swagger stick, his mouth wide open as he tried to find his voice.
“If he gets me in that cell he’s going to kill me Wally!”
“Shut up!” screeched Daly.
“He wouldnt dare try this if the President–2 “Shut up! Shut up!” He swung the swagger stick, a side, arm cut, that hissed like a cobra. He had gone for my wounds deliberately, and the supple cane snapped around me like a pistol shot.
The pain of it was beyond belief, and I convulsed, bucking involuntarily in their grip. They held me.
“Shut up!” Daly was hysterical with pain and rage. He swung again, and the cane cut deeply into half-healed flesh. This time I screamed.
“I’ll kill you, you bastard.” Daly staggered back, still hunched with pain, and he fumbled with his holstered pistol.
What I had hoped for now happened. Wally released me and jumped forward.
No,” he shouted. “Not that.”
He towered over Daly’s slim crouching form and with one massive brown hand he blocked Daly’s draw.
“Get out of my way. That’s an order,” shouted Daly, but Wally unclipped. the lanyard from the pistol’s butt and disarmed him, stepping back with the pistol in his hand.
“I’ll break you for this,” snarled Daly. “It’s your duty-“
“I know my duty, Inspector,” Wally spoke with a simple dignity, “and it’s not to murder prisoners.” Then he turned to me. “Mister Harry, you’d best get out of here.”
“You’re freeing a prisoner-” Daly gasped. “Man, I’m going to break you.”
“Didn’t see no warrant,” Wally cut in. “Soon as the President signs a warrant, we’ll fetch Mister Harry right back in again.”
“You black bastard,” Daly panted at him, and Wally turned to me.
“Get!“he said. “Quickly.”
It was a long ride out to the shack, every bump in the track hit me in the chest. One thing I had learned from I the evening’s joliffications was that my original thoughts were correct - whatever that bundle off Big Gull Island contained, it could get a peace-loving gentleman like myself into plenty of trouble.
