TO WHOEVER FINDS THIS—
YOU WILL GET FIFTY POUNDS—8500 PESETAS —IF YOU SEND THIS LETTER TO MRS J. STANKOWSKI, EATON HOUSE, UPPER GROSVENOR STREET, LONDON, ENGLAND.
YOU MUST TELL HER EXACTLY HOW AND WHERE YOU FOUND IT AND WHEN.
MRS STANKOWSKI: WHEN YOU RECEIVE THIS AND ITS COVERING LETTER PLEASE GET IN TOUCH WITH MR CARVER. I AM DOING THE SAME THING IN BEER BOTTLES FOR HIM.
WE ARE NOT NOW ALLOWED OUTSIDE, BUT THIS HOUSE IS ISOLATED AND NEAR THE SEA, EITHER SPAIN OR ONE OF THE SPANISH ISLANDS. B.D. IS HERE. TREATED WELL. I SEE ONLY A MAN CALLED PAULET AND A WOMAN —THERESE.
TO WHOEVER FINDS THIS I SAY THIS IS NOT A JOKE. IT IS A VERY SERIOUS MATTER AND YOU WILL GET FIFTY POUNDS IF YOU SEND THIS TO MRS STANKOWSKI.
It was signed, in her ordinary hand—Hilda Wilkins.
The other letter, written in rather a schoolboyish hand, was also in English, and the address at the head was 7 Paseo Maritimo, San Antonio Abad, Ibiza, Islas de Baleares.
Dear Lady,
Very much I hope this no joke because I can be very useful for fifty pounds but would like it in the pesetas. I am student but work evenings in the San Antonio supermarket, chiefly washing bottles and opening crates. This letter I almost do not see, but am curious when I do. It is in a beer bottle, a large one, in two dozen returned for the consignment. Only we take back the bottles which are from us and they are for beer, mineral acqua and wines. It is good I find it because I am study the English language because there is so much tourism here and should hope one day to be in the hotel trade, not as waiter, but at the reception, perhaps rising to manager. So I hope this is serious about the fifty pounds (8500 pts). This I find yesterdays ago at 1800 hrs. Also, I find same kind of letter for Mr Carver and write him, also in London. This way, perhaps, it is permitted I get 17,000 pesetas?
Your obedient servant, esteemed lady,
José Bonifaz.
The date on the letter was four days old.
*
I sat back and lit a cigarette. Gloriana came and put a fresh martini alongside me but said nothing. She was still probably wondering whether she had done the right thing. I was way past worrying about that. I had a nice warm feeling about Wilkins. What a girl. I could see her. Wilkins cooped up a prisoner. That was enough to make her mad anyway. She’d be in a filthy temper, but that wouldn’t stop her thinking and scheming. It would only put an edge on her brain. It would be hot and the prisoners would be supplied with beer. Big fat brown bottles that when empty would be cleared away, and finally carted back to the supermarket for a fresh supply; big, fat, empty beer bottles going back so that the consigne could be allowed on them. And they’d be brown bottles. Wilkins had used brown paper so that it wouldn’t show up when Paulet or Thérèse collected them. Oh, yes, she was my girl, all right. Tough, capable, bad-tempered Wilkins who never let anything in life get on top of her but a cold. Block letters to make her letter easy to read for a foreigner. And no wonder José Bonifaz preferred to be paid in pesetas—they would come to more than fifty pounds. . . . The other letter from Bonifaz to me was probably on my desk in London now. Since it would be marked ‘Confidential’ Mrs Burtenshaw would not have opened it. Everyone, Manston, Sutcliffe and myself, working from the outside in, and suddenly Wilkins coming up trumps, working from the inside out.
Gloriana sat on the arm of my chair, and said, ‘Does it help?’
‘It’s going to. It’s got to.’
She gave me a quizzical look. ‘You didn’t get a letter from Wilkins also? This José says he has written to you.’
‘It’s probably lying on my office desk unopened.’
‘Are you going to let them know?’
‘Them?’
‘You know. The Treasury man.’
I stood up. ‘To hell with them. I’m not going to shout for them until I really have something to shout for. Do you know Ibiza?’
‘Yes.’
‘San Antonio?’
‘Yes. It’s a nice place spoiled by tourists. Jan and I spent a week there once. Don’t you think you ought to tell them? I mean, if it’s all so serious?’
‘Forget them.’
She looked doubtful but she kept at it.
‘Is this Miss Wilkins being kept there . . . you know, against her wishes?’
‘Yes.’
‘And who’s B.D.?’
I put my hands on her shoulders and looked straight into her blue eyes. ‘Look, I don’t want you to ask questions. The less you know, the better for you.’
‘You’re not going to keep me out of it—are you forgetting my brother is probably there, in danger?’
‘You don’t care a damn for your brother.’
‘Not for some of the things he’s done. But I do care for him as a brother.’
I shook my head. ‘I don’t want you mixed up in this. They’ve told you to go away and forget it all. Do that.’
She shook her head. ‘You ought to tell them if it’s so serious.’
‘I’m going to—in good time. But first I want a chat with José Bonifaz, and I want to find out if there’s a Bar Tristan in San Antonio. Is there?’
‘I wouldn’t know.’
I said, ‘I’ll keep these letters. You forget about them. And if I can possibly do anything about your brother I will.’ I put the letters in my pocket. ‘You’ve never received them. Your conscience is clear.’
‘And you’re going to Ibiza?’
‘As soon as I can get a flight. No hope today. But I ought to get off tomorrow.’
I went up to her
