marinas in the Bahamas and it was a hell of a lot. I began to appreciate Perigord's point of view. I said, 'Go back over the records of all our marinas for the last five years, t want to know how many boats went missing. And, Sam, we don't want to lose any more.'
'I don't see we're responsible,' said Sam.
'And there's a clause in the marina agreement which says so. You know boat people. They reckon they've gotten the freedom of the seas. Maybe they have because no one has gotten around to licensing them yet, but some are downright irresponsible.'
I winced because Sam had hit a raw nerve; I had been a boat owner.
'Nevertheless, beef up security.'
'It'll cost,' Sam warned.
'That means watchmen.'
'Don't.'
Sam shrugged.
'Anything more, Mr… er.. Tom?'
'I think that's all.'
He stood up, then hesitated.
'Excuse me, but I've been wondering.
What are you doing with those pictures of Jack Kayles? '
'Who?'
Sam pointed to the black-and-white photographs.
'There That's Jack Kayles.'
' You know this man? '
'Not to say know like being friends, but he's been in and oui of the marina.'
'Sam, you've just earned yourself a bonus.' I pushed a photograph across the desk.
'Now, sit down and tell me everything you know about him.'
Sam picked it up.
'Not a good picture,' he commented 'But it's Kayles, all right. He's a yacht burn; got a sloop a twenty-seven footer, British-built and glass fibre. Usually sails single-handed.'
'Where does he keep her?'
'Nowhere and everywhere. She's usually where he happens to be at the time. Kayles can pitch up anywhere, I reckon. He was in New Providence two years ago and told me he'd comes up from the Galapagos, through the Panama Canal, and had worked his way through the islands. He was going on to look at the Florida keys.
He's pretty nandy with a boat. '
'What's she called?'
Sam frowned.
'Now that's a funny thing he changed her name, which is mighty unusual. Most folk are superstitious about that. Two years ago she was called Seaglow, but when I saw her last she was Green Wave.'
'Maybe a different boat,' I suggested.
'Same boat,' said Sam firmly.
I accepted that; Sam knew his boats.
'When was he last in your marina?'
'About three months ago.'
'How does Kayles earn his living?'
Sam shrugged.
'I don't know. Maybe he crews for pay. I told you; he's a yacht burn. There's plenty like Kayles about. They live on their boats and scratch a living somehow.' He thought for a moment.
'Come to think of it, Kayles never seemed short of cash. He paid on the nail for everything. A few bits of chandlery from the shop, fuel, marina fees and all lhat.'
'Credit card?'
'No. Always in cash. Always in American dollars, too.'
'He's an American?'
'I'd say so. Could be Canadian, but I don't think so. What's all this about, Tom?'
'I have an interest in him,' I said un informatively
'Any more you can tell me?'
'Not much to tell,' said Sam.
'I just put diesel oil in his boat and took his money. Not much of that, either. He has a pint-sized diesel engine which he doesn't use much; he's one of those guys who prefers the wind a good sailor, like I said.'
'Anything at all about Kayles will be useful,' I said.
'Think hard, Sam.'
Sam ruminated.
'I did hear he was awful quick-tempered, but he was always civil to me and that's all I cared about. He never made trouble in the marina but I heard he got into a fight in Nassau. Like all yachtsmen he carries a knife, and he used it he cut a guy.'
'Were the police in on that?'
Sam shook his head.
'It was a private fight,' he said dryly.
'No one wanted police trouble.'
I was disappointed; it would be useful if Kayles already had a police record.
'Did he have any particular friends that you know of?'
'No, I'd say Kayles is a loner.'
'When he left your marina three months ago did he say where he was going?'
'No.' Sam suddenly snapped his fingers.
'But when I met him last month in the International Bazaar he said he was going to Florida. I forgot about that.' Then he added, 'The International Bazaar here not the one in Nassau.'
I stared at Sam.
'Are you telling me you saw Kayles here on Grand Bahama a month ago?'
'Not a month ago,' corrected Sam.
'Last month. It would be a little over two weeks ago. I'd brought a boat over for a client to give to Joe Cartwright here.' Sam tugged his ear.
'Chances are that Kayles had his boat here, too. I didn't see her, but I wasn't looking. He knew about the discount.'
We had a system whereby a yachtsman using one of our marinas got a ten per cent discount in any of the others; it helped keep the money in the family. I rang my secretary.
'Jessie, get Joe Cartwright up here fast. I don't care what he's doing but I want him here.' I turned back to Sam.
'Did Kayles say how he was going to Florida?'
'He didn't tell me and I didn't ask. I assumed he'd be going in Green Wave.'
I hammered at Sam for quite a while, but could get nothing more out of him. Presently Joe Cartwright arrived. He was the marina manager for the Royal Palm.
'You wanted me, Mr. Mangan?' He flicked his hand in a brief salute.
'Hi, Sam!'
I pushed forward the photograph.
'Did this man bring a boat into the marina about two weeks ago?'
Sam said, 'His name is Kayles.
'The face and the name mean nothing to me,' said Joe.
'I'd have to look at the records.'
I pointed to the telephone, 'fcing your office and have someone do it now. '
As Joe spoke into the mouthpiece I drummed my fingers restlessly on the desk. At least I had something for Perigord and I hoped it would prove to be a firm lead.
