by Jack Higgins
After a while, Manning said, 'Where was she going - Miami?'
Viner nodded. 'She had a letter from the Cuban refugee people there. They wanted her to go on tour in the States to raise money for their organization.'
'But why go without telling me?'
'She thought it would be best that way. A clean break.'
Manning shook his head. 'I don't get it. I don't get it at all. There must have been some other reason. Something that makes sense.'
'All right, Harry,' Viner said. 'I'll give it to you straight. Ever since you arrived on Spanish Cay you've been drowning in a sea of self-pity. You seemed to think you were the only one to take a knock over the Cuban affair. And then Maria came along. At least she managed to stop you from drinking yourself into the grave, but ever since, you've used her like a crutch. She decided it was time you learned to walk on your own two feet again.'
Manning sat there staring at him, a slight frown on his face and then he emptied his glass, got up and went outside. Saunders, Morrison, and Seth were talking quietly in the wheelhouse and he brushed past them and went and stood at the rail, thinking about her down there in the dark water, knowing that everything Viner had said was true.
Gradually a faint pearly luminosity appeared and he was able to distinguish the greyness of the mist curling up from the water and the dark, silver lances of the rain.
The nightmare was over. The sea lifted in a slight swell, creaming against the base of the reef. The blowhole was silent. The sharks were gone.
The police launch was anchored twenty or thirty yards to port and Joe Howard emerged from the wheelhouse and raised an arm. He dropped over the stern into his dinghy, cast off and sculled across.
When he climbed over the rail, his normally good-humoured face was grave. 'I've radioed Nassau. They're sending a salvage boat and a couple of divers. Should be here about noon.'
Manning shook his head. 'There was no need. I'm going down myself.'
'Don't be a fool, Harry!' Viner said sharply as he emerged from the wheelhouse followed by the others.
'It's my neck.'
Seth shook his head and said softly, 'Nothing for you down there, Harry. Maybe a tiger shark or two hoping for something the others missed, but it ain't likely.'
'I'll see for myself.' Manning turned to Howard. 'Sorry, Joe, but that's the way it is.'
The young policeman sighed and said to Seth, 'Get your spare aqualung ready while you're about it. I'll go down with him.' He grinned tiredly at Manning. 'I am supposed to be in charge here in case you'd forgotten.'
'Are you two crazy or something?' Morrison said.
Manning ignored him and started to take off his shoes and outer clothing. As Joe Howard followed his example, he smiled reassuringly at the American.
'Don't worry, Mr Morrison. We've done this sort of thing before.'
They kept on shirts and pants as some protection against the coldness of the water. When Seth brought the equipment up from the saloon, he and Saunders helped them into it quickly.
No one bothered to talk. For Manning, there was a desperate unreality about everything. It was a bad dream. A dream from which he might awaken at any moment, stretch out his hand in the darkness and find her there beside him.
When he went over the rail, the sharp coldness of the water was like a physical blow, bringing him back to reality. He hovered just below the surface to adjust his air supply and went down through the opaque grey water without waiting for his companion.
The plane loomed out of the shadows almost at once. It had settled on a bank of sea grass which stretched to the base of the reef and as he swam towards it he was aware of the undertow tugging at his body, pulling him towards the great rock face and the caverns beneath.
The main fabric of the Walrus was still intact, but the tail and the baggage compartment had completely disappeared leaving a great ragged hole at one end of the fuselage, the metal twisted and blackened as if by some tremendous explosion. As Manning hovered beside it, Joe Howard arrived.
There was a slight frown on his face and he looked worried. Manning patted him on the shoulder reassuringly and they swam inside. The seats were still there and the door to the pilot's cabin swung gently in the current, but there were no bodies. The passengers and crew had vanished without a trace.
Howard went into the cabin and Manning swam outside and waited for him, clinging to the fuselage. The sun was rising and the first pale rays slanted down through the grey water, but there was still that strange absence of life.
Seth had been right. There was nothing for him here. Maria Salas had vanished along with her companions as completely as if she had never existed. He was about to kick out towards the surface when Joe appeared beside him and tapped him on the shoulder.
He pointed to the pale fronds stretched towards the base of the reef, pulled by the undertow. Manning realized at once what he meant. Over the years, the action of the sea had scoured away the base of the cliff, creating a great cavern underneath. There was always the possibility that one or more of the bodies, caught in the undertow, had been sucked inside before the sharks could get them.
He let go of the plane, moving towards the base of the cliff, and the current pulled him along. The entrance was a dark slash in the rock no more than three feet high and he ducked inside and waited for Joe Howard to join him.
The cave was full of small, rainbow-coloured fish and arched above his head like a cathedral. The early morning sun streamed out of the blow-hole in the roof and filtered down through the water in great translucent rays.
It was strangely peaceful and somehow cut off from the world outside and then Joe Howard appeared beside him and the cloud of fish disintegrated in alarm, exposing a body pinned to the roof of the cavern.
It was Jimmy Walker. He was wearing an inflated life jacket and floated there against the roof, face down. His eyes were closed, his limbs perfectly relaxed. There was no mark on him anywhere. Manning and Howard rose together, the fish scattered to avoid them. They each took an arm and swam back towards the entrance.
They paused at twenty feet for several minutes to decompress and surfaced slightly astern of the Grace Abounding. Saunders was the first to see them. He cried out excitedly and the sound died in his throat as he saw their burden.
Seth had put the ladder over the side in readiness and he came down it quickly and took a firm grip on Walker's life jacket. Morrison leaned over to help him. When Manning climbed over the rail, the body was laid on its back beside the wheelhouse.
'Not a mark on him,' Saunders said in awe. 'How come they missed him?'
Manning pushed up his mask and spat out his rubber mouthpiece. 'We found him under the reef. He must have still been at the controls when the plane touched bottom. That undertow must have been tremendous last night. The moment he emerged from the cabin, it would have taken him straight under.'
'How come his life jacket's inflated?'
'Probably a reflex action as he went under. Maybe he realized what was happening and hoped to come up through the blow-hole.'
He shivered, thinking of Jimmy Walker down there in the darkness with no one to help him, and Morrison said, 'What about the others?'
'Nothing left to find,' Joe Howard told him. 'Looked to me as if there'd been some sort of explosion.'
The American frowned. 'What was it? One of the engines?'
Joe Howard shook his head. 'Whatever it was, it was in the baggage compartment. Blew the tail clean off. She must have gone down like a stone.'
There was silence and Saunders drew in his breath. After a moment, Seth said slowly, 'You mean it wasn't no accident, Joe?'
Manning dropped his aqualung to the deck, picked up a towel and draped it over Jimmy Walker's face. When he straightened, he looked incredibly calm.
'That's exactly what he means,' he said.
4
A Man Called Garcia
When Manning opened the door the bed was still rumpled and unmade as he had left it and he
moved across and gently touched the dent in the pillow where her head had lain. He shivered involuntarily and opened the French windows, allowing the early morning sun to come flooding in.
He searched the room thoroughly, starting with the wardrobe and going through every drawer and cupboard. He found plenty of his own things, but there was nothing of hers. Not even a handkerchief. It was as if she had never existed.
He stood there listening to the stillness for a moment and then stripped to the waist, went into the bathroom and washed the salt from his face and body. He was pulling a clean shirt over his head when the door opened and Joe Howard came in.
He sat on the end of the bed and took a slip of paper from the breast pocket of his tunic. 'I've got the passenger list here. There were only four of them: Maria, an American businessman called Fallon, Mrs Norah Hamilton, an English tourist, and a man called Perez.'
Manning turned slowly, a slight frown on his face. 'Cuban?'
'He was staying at the Old Ship Tavern. Been here for maybe two weeks. Small, middle-aged man with a walkingstick.
Manning nodded. 'I remember him. Limped badly on his right foot.'
'It wasn't surprising,' Howard said. 'He was lucky to have one. A Castro agent tossed a bomb at him in Vera Cruz a couple of months back. Real name was Dr Miguel de Rodriguez, a prominent Cuban refugee. He'd been having too much success in the Central American states whipping up opposition to the Castro regime.'
'What was he doing here?'
'Recuperating quietly, which explains the assumed name. Nassau informed me as a matter of course when he came in. I didn't know he was leaving last night. Obviously someone else did.'
'And planted a bomb in the baggage compartment?'
'Easily enough done. The Walrus was moored out there beyond the point on her own for several hours after dark. Hard luck on the other passengers, but then I suppose these people never give that side of it a thought.'
Manning found that his hands were trembling. He lit a cigarette and stood at the window. 'What happens now?'
'The Commissioner wants me in Nassau right away. With luck I should be back by this evening. I'll let you know if anything turns up.' He moved to the door and hesitated. 'She was a nice girl, Harry. I'm sorry! Damned sorry!'
The door closed softly behind him and Manning stayed there looking out across the harbour for a while, thinking about it all, and then he reached for his cap and went downstairs.
The bar was deserted and he went out on the terrace and found Viner having a late breakfast on his own. The German snapped his fingers for the waiter as Manning joined him.
'What about some breakfast, Harry?'
Manning shook his head. 'Just coffee.'
The waiter brought another cup, filled it and retired. Viner continued with his meal, obviously embarrassed, and Manning lit a cigarette and looked over the water at the dim bulk of Andros shimmering in the heat haze.
Viner finished eating and carefully fitted a cigarette into an elegant silver holder. 'Your coffee's getting cold.'
Manning emptied his cup and helped himself to some more. 'Where's Morrison? I was supposed to be taking him out at the crack of dawn.'
'Under the circumstances, he didn't think you'd be interested. Decided to take a run across to Nassau. Joe gave him a lift in the police launch.'
'Did he tell you about Rodriguez?'
The German nodded. 'It doesn't make sense, Harry. To kill a man they think their enemy is one thing, but this sort of affair can only do their cause harm.'
'Maybe they want to put a little fear into all of us,' Manning said. 'Show us they mean business. I think Joe was wrong about the way they planted the bomb, though.'
Viner looked surprised. 'I thought his theory seemed pretty sound.'
'So did I at first, but I've been thinking about it. Jimmy Walker always supervised loading himself. He had a thing about it ever since one of his shipping clerks tried to run a little heroin into Vera Cruz and Jimmy nearly took the drop for it. And he always locked that luggage compartment. He'd have noticed if anyone had tampered with that door.'
'Then the bomb must have been taken on board in someone's luggage. Probably by Rodriguez himself.'
Manning nodded. 'Whoever it was wouldn't know a thing about it. Probably planted at their hotel. Lots of people would have the opportunity. Chambermaids, waiters and so on. I shouldn't have thought Rodriguez would have fallen for a thing like that, though. A man in his position only survives by being careful.'
'Obviously he wasn't careful enough,' Viner said dryly. 'But even if the bomb was planted in another passenger's luggage, it shouldn't be too difficult to find a culprit. We could start by checking on all staff taken on by the hotels in question during the past fortnight.'
'A good point,' Manning said. 'Was anyone on that list staying here?'
Viner shook his head. 'We know Rodriguez was at the Old Ship Tavern. We could make some enquiries there for a start. You know, the owner, Bill Lumley, as well as I do. He'll help in any way he can.'
Manning swallowed the rest of his coffee and stood up. 'I've got a better idea. You go see Bill. I'll call at the shipping office and ask them for another copy of that passenger list. That'll tell us where the other two were staying.'
Viner nodded. 'I'll meet you at the Old Ship then. What about the police?'
Manning shrugged. 'Joe won't get back till late this afternoon. Our bird could have flown the coop by then. I wouldn't like that to happen.'
'I don't think I should, either,' Viner said.
Manning left him there, went down the steps and turned along the waterfront. Seth was sitting on the sea wall talking to two sailors. He jumped down and crossed the dusty road.
'We going out today, Harry?'
Manning shook his head. 'I don't think so.'
He felt as if he were under deep water and everything seemed to move in slow motion. All sounds were muffled and far off. Even his own voice seemed to belong to a stranger and again he had that peculiar feeling that it was only a dream. That somehow he would wake up and that everything would be different.
The shipping office was dark and cool when he went inside. The black clerk was drinking a glass of ice water and he put it down hastily, his face sober.
'What can I do for you, Mr Manning?'
'I'd like a look at that passenger list,' Manning said. 'The one you showed Sergeant Howard.'
As the clerk started to search through a mass of papers, the door at the rear opened and a young black man entered. As he took off his jacket, the first man found what he was looking for.
'This is it, Mr Manning. This is the one Sergeant Howard took a copy of. 'Course I didn't make the original out. That was Bill here. He's the night man.'
Bill moved forward, glanced at the passenger list and nodded. 'That's it, Mr Manning. That's the final copy I made after Mr Walker left.'
'Final copy?' Manning said. 'What's that supposed to mean?'
'Well, sometimes people don't show up for the flight,' he explained. 'When that happens we miss them off the final copy.'
Manning felt a coldness inside him. In that single instant, everything jumped back into focus. He leaned across the counter and said carefully, 'Did someone fail to make the flight last night?'
The clerk nodded. 'A Mr Garcia. He booked his seat around noon, but didn't show up at flight time.'
'And what about his luggage?'
'Oh, that was on the plane. I told him it had to be here by seven. Mr Walker liked it stowed aboard early.'
'Did you tell Sergeant Howard about this?'
The young clerk shook his head. 'I ain't seen him yet. Been sleeping. Only just heard about the accident half an hour ago. That's why I came in.'
Manning turned slowly, found Seth standing at his shoulder. 'You know what this means?'
Seth nodded soberly. 'He'll have left the island by now, Harry. Probably all arranged beforehand.'
Manning shook his head. 'Never mind that. Get down to the ha
rbour quick. See if you can find a boat that left last night, probably for Nassau. It shouldn't be too difficult. I'm going to see Viner. I'll meet you at the boat.'
Seth trotted away and Manning turned back along the waterfront. The Old Ship was a couple of hundred yards farther on, not far from the jetty. As he approached, he saw Viner standing by the main gate.
The German spread his hands in a vague Continental gesture. 'No luck, Harry. Bill Lumley hasn't taken on any new help since last season. All his present staff are islanders. Been with him for years.'
'I've had a little more luck than that,' Manning told him. 'They missed someone off the passenger list. Man called Garcia. Apparently he never showed at flight time, but his luggage went aboard.'
'Do you think he'll still be here?'
'Not a chance. I've sent Seth along the waterfront to see what he can find out.'
At that moment there was a shout and they turned to see Seth running towards them. Sweat poured down the big man's face and his chest was heaving.
'You were right, Harry. Manny Johnson took someone over to Nassau and it sounds like our man. He was sitting in Flo's Bar around seven last night when this guy came in. Flo says they had a row. The trip had been fixed up two days before, but Manny wanted to call it off because of the weather. Flo says he only went because Garcia promised him another twenty quid.'
Manning slapped him on the shoulder. 'Good man. Go and cast off. We're getting out of here fast.'
Seth ran along the jetty and Manning said to Viner, 'You could check on the other two hotels in case we're on a wild goose chase, but I don't think so.'
He moved away and the German said sharply, 'Be careful, Harry. These people play rough.'
Manning turned, a slow, dangerous smile on his face like a fuse burning. 'I only hope they do.'
He ran along the jetty, jumped down to the deck and went into the wheelhouse as Seth cast off. He opened the throttle and as the Grace Abounding strained forward with a sudden surge, swung her out of harbour into the gulf.