not, 1 suspect, as house guests; three are billeted in the Royal Palm Hotel, and the sixth is sitting in your outer office at this moment. We checked their passports very carefully and what did we find on further enquiry? All six are members of the security section of the Cunningham Corporation. Mr. Mangan, if you have fears for your own safety or the safety of your wife you should come to me, and not import a private army.'
'My wife is dear to me.'
'I understand that.' He stood up.
'But I would like to see Mr. Walker now.'
I eyed Perigord with respect; he even had the identification down pat. I called in Walker and introduced them. Perigord said, 'Mr. Walker, we encourage Americans to come to our island; you are our bread and butter. But we don't like firearms. Are you armed, sir?'
Walker said, 'Uh…' He glanced at me.
'Tell him,' I said.
'Well… cr… yes, I am.'
Perigord held out his hand without saying a word and Walker took a pistol from a holster clipped to his belt and handed it over.
Perigord put it into his pocket where it made an unsightly bulge and spoiled the line of his uniform. He picked up his swagger stick.
'You and your friends may stay, Mr. Walker, even though I have the power to deport you. But all your firearms must be delivered to my office before midday today.' He raised the swagger stick in a semi salute.
'Good day, Mr. Mangan. I'll let you know of any developments.'
As the door closed Walker said, 'A swagger stick, yet! Is he for real?'
'He had you tagged the moment you got offtheJetStar. He knows who you are and what you do. I wouldn't underestimate Perigord.'
'What do we do about the guns?'
'You do exactly as he says. What have you got? A pistol each?'
'Yeah. And a couple ofArmalite rifles.'
'My God! Let Perigord have the lot. You'll get them back when you leave.' I had the impression that Walker and his friends would feel stripped naked.
While not neglecting Debbie I buckled down to getting the Theta Corporation back into shape. Not that there was much wrong I had a good staff but when the boss takes an enforced vacation things tend to loosen and the system becomes sloppy. So I did the necessary tightening here and there to tune the organization.
One of the things I did was to transfer Jack Fletcher to the Sea Gardens Hotel on New Providence. The manager there had broken his leg and was out of action, and Philips, the under manager, was a new boy, so I thought it wise to send Fletcher. The point is that I went with him to introduce him to the staff. It was to be a quick trip because I did not want to spend time away from Debbie. Although Cora and Addy had brought over a crowd of kids and were company for Debbie I wanted to get back quickly.
Bobby Bowen flew us to Nassau and Steve Walker came along, too.
During this period he was never more than ten feet away from me at any moment, and there would be only one door between us, if that. If Jack Fletcher noticed that Walker stuck closer to me than my shadow he made no comment.
After the round of introductions were over we sat in the manager's office to tidy up a few last details. There were minor differences in running the two hotels and I wanted to be sure that Fletcher knew of them. The manager's office at the Sea Gardens is immediately behind the reception desk in the lobby and one wall is of glass glass with a difference.
From the customer's point of view when standing in the lobby the wall behind the reception desk is fitted with a big mirror. Mirrors are important in hotel design because they give a sense of space, spurious though it may be. But this mirror is of trick, one-way glass so that the manager, sitting at his desk, can see what is happening in the lobby while being unobserved himself.
So it was that, while chatting with Fletcher, I happened to look out idly at the reception desk and beyond. There was the i99 usual scene, a combination of idleness and bustle. Small groups of tourists stood about chatting, and bellhops were bringing in the baggage of a newly arrived tour group. Philips said they had just come from ItaTy. Everything was normal. At the cashier's desk there was a short queue of departing visitors doing what the whole business was about they were paying.
There was something about the third man in the queue that interested me. I thought I knew him but could not recollect ever ha ving met him.
He was tall with greying hair and had a neatly trimmed moustache and a short beard. I stood up, went closer to the window, and stared at him. He did what many do he looked at his reflection in the mirror and straightened his tie. For a moment he stared directly into my eyes; his own were green flecked with yellow, and I had looked into those eyes before when lying helpless in the lobby of the Cunningham Building.
I swung around.
'Jack, see that man with the beard? I want him held up delayed until I can find out who he is.'
Fletcher looked surprised.
'How?'
'Double his bill. Say it's a computer error and spend a long time rectifying it. But keep him there.' Fletcher shot off, and I said to Philips, 'Go with him. I want the man's name, room number, home address, where he came from, where he's going, and anything else you can find out about him. But be tactful. And quick.'
Walker joined me at the window.
'What's the panic?'
'That's one of Robinson's friends,' I said grimly.
'He had no beard when I last saw him, but there's no disguising those eyes and that big nose. When he leaves I want you to stick close to him.' I thought for a moment.
'How much money have you got on you?'
'I don't really know. A couple of hundred bucks, maybe.'
'You might need more. There's no knowing where he might go.' I took a cash voucher from the desk, scribbled a figure and added my signature.
'The cashier will honour this.'
Walker took the slip and gave a low whistle.
'Five thousand dollars!'
'He might be flying to Europe, damn it! Ask for American dollars or you might be stuck with Bahamian.'
'If I'm going to tail the guy I'd better not join that line at the desk,' he said.
'True. Stay here until Philips comes back. He can get the cash from behind the desk.'
We watched the comedy at the cashier's desk. My friend, the phoney doctor, moved up to the counter and presented his room key with a smile. There was a bit of dumb show and then the bill was presented.
He glanced at it, then frowned, prodded at it with his forefinger, and pushed it back across the counter. The cashier made some chat and called over Jack Fletcher who now came into sight.
Walker said, 'If he pays by credit card we can trace him through the number.'
I nodded. Fletcher was making voluble apologies with much gesturing.
He held up one hand in a placatory manner and disappeared from view.
Two minutes later he walked into the office followed by Philips.
'His name is Carrasco – Dr. Luis Carrasco.'
'So he really is a doctor,' I commented.
'Nationality?'
'Venezuelan.'
'Where is he going?'
'I don't know,' said Fletcher.
'I've only spoken to him for about three minutes. He said he had a plane to catch and would I make it short.'
'I know where he's going,' said Philips.
'He used our inter- hotel booking service. He's flying to Freeport and he's staying at the Royal Palm. He's
