"To the corridor."
The key was in the lock so he turned it, locking the door.
"I'd rather you use just the one door," he said.
"Can I have a desk in the corner of your secretary's office?"
"Sure. I'll have Jessie set it up." So I did, much to her mystification, and when Walker had settled down I sat behind my own desk to do some heavy thinking.
I went over everything Robinson had said and latched on to something.
He had said that Kayles had reported that I knew all about his plans, whatever they were, and that I had not told Kayles directly, but that Kayles had overheard a conversation between me and Sam Ford.
I thought back to the affray on My Fair Lady. Kayles could have listened when Sam and I were talking in the cockpit, but we had not talked about any mysterious plans, only about how to get Kayles back to Duncan Town. Anyway, Kayles would have been too busy cutting himself free and grabbing his gun to listen to us.
The only other time he could have listened to Sam and me was when he was tied up on the bunk. I vaguely remembered that I had a notion he had been feigning unconsciousness at the time, so what had I said to Sam about anyone's plans? I remembered I had been a bit irritable and had blown my top about something, but what it was I could not remember a lot had happened since then. But perhaps Sam would know.
I snapped on the intercom.
"Jessie, get Sam Ford on the telephone. I don't know where he'll be; you'll have to track him down."
"But didn't you know?" she said.
"Know what?"
"He's in hospital in Nassau. A boat fell on him."
"Come in here and tell me more."
It appeared that Sam had been supervising the removal of a yacht from the water. Half-way up the slip it had fallen sideways from the cradle, and Sam happened to be in the way. It was a ten-ton ketch.
"He's in the intensive care unit of the Princess Margaret Hospital," said Jessie.
"He was still in a coma the last I heard."
"When did this happen?"
"About a week ago."
I was filled with a cold rage. If Robi nson had tried to kill me because of what Kayles overheard he would certainly not leave out Sam. This was as much of an ordinary accident as the disappearance of Bill Pinder. I said, "Ask Mr. Walker to come in."
Jessie stood up, then hesitated.
"Who is he?" she asked.
"He's just sitting there reading magazines. And he asked me to give him a signal if a stranger comes in."
"Don't worry about him, but do as he says. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about him to anyone."
All the same she looked a bit worried as she left. When Walker came in I said, "We have another bodyguard job," and filled in the details.
"I don't want anyone getting to Sam."
Walker tugged his ear.
"That might be tricky. Do we get the cooperation of the hospital?"
"I'll see what I can do about that. In the meantime have a couple of your men on alert, ready to fly to Nassau."
He nodded and left, and I was about to ask Jessie to put me through to the hospital in Nassau when she buzzed me.
"Commissioner Perigord to see you."
I had been expecting Perigord but not as soon as this. He was quick off the mark.
"Send him in."
Perigord came in, as trim and elegant as ever in his well-cut uniform.
"What can I do for you?" I asked.
"Please sit down."
'95 He took off his cap and laid it on the desk, together with the swagger stick he always carried, and sat in the chair opposite. He regarded me with dark brown eyes set in a dark brown face, and said quietly, "Don't be blat nd with me, Mr. Mangan. You have much to tell me. When a Bahamian of some eminence is kidnapped in Texas and kills two men in the act of escaping it tends to make headlines in the newspapers. You are a man of some notoriety."
I should have expected that but it had not occurred to me. True, Jessie had looked at me with big eyes when I had walked into the office, but I had kept her on the run and we had not had time to be chatty. T must get the clippings for my scrapbook," I said ironically.
"Captain Booth of the Texas State Police telephoned me. He wanted to know about you, naturally enough. Your status in the community, had you a criminal record, and so forth. I gave you a clean bill of health."
"Thanks for the testimonial."
"We also talked about our common problems drug- running, for instance. Texas has a long border with Mexico."
"Do you still think this case has to do with drugs? I'm beginning to wonder about that."
Perigord shrugged.
"I'm keeping an open mind. I read the transcript of the Grand Jury hearing with great interest."
I was surprised.
"You did? That hearing was held in private."
Perigord's lips quirked into a smile.
"Like you, I have friends in Texas. It made… how shall I put it?… empty reading. For example, there was the mysterious Mr. Robinson, your kidnapper, floating about the case with no visible means of support never found. And there was the body ofKayles which, again, has never been found."
"It wouldn't be too hard to make a body vanish in Big Thicket," I said.
"You could toss it into any swamp."
"True, but Captain Booth is moderately unhappy. You see, he only has your word for it that there was a third body or even a Robinson. He couldn't ask Leroy Ainslee because he was inconsiderately killed by a train."
I said, "My wife never saw Kayles, but she did see Robin- son. You must have read her evidence." I took a glossy colour photograph from my desk drawer.
"Meet Mr. Robinson."
Perigord took it from my fingers and examined it critically.
"You did better with Kayles," he said.
"That was a photograph. This is a photograph of a painting." He dropped it on to the desk.
"Not what one would call hard evidence for the existence of Robinson."
"Are you saying you don't believe me or Debbie?" I demanded.
"No but I'm dissatisfied. Like Captain Booth I'm moderately unhappy." He then said what Frank Cunningham had said before Billy hit him, but in a way that robbed it of offence.
"You seem to have problems with your wives, Mr. Mangan. I was very sorry when the first Mrs. Mangan died because I had a regard for her, and I was equally sorry when I heard what had happened to your present wife. I ask myself if these events are related in any way, and if your problems are going to continue. Too much has happened around you in the last year or so." He leaned forward.
"Now let us talk about Robinson."
So we talked about Robinson for a long time. At last I said, "I've been racking my brains to think of what Kayles overheard between me and Sam Ford, and I can't ask Sam." I told him about that, and added pointedly, "And I don't think that was an accident, either."
Perigord looked grave.
"I'll ring Commissioner Deane in Nassau, and we'll have that incident investigated."
"And put a guard on Sam," I said.
He nodded and picked up the picture of Robinson.
"How accurate is this?"
"I really don't know," I said candidly.
"But it's the best Cassie Cunningham and I could do. She said it's difficult for a painter to depict an image in someone else's mind's eye."
"Very well put." Perigord picked up his hat.
"Now, there is just one last matter. You came back from Texas without a passport. Well, that's all right because we know the reason. But you came back with six Americans, two of whom are in i97 your home though 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 t
o 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 booked in for a week."
"Damned cheek!" I said, and looked at Carrasco. He was standing at the desk wearing a preoccupied expression and tapping restlessly with his fingers.
"He'll probably be flying Bahamasair," said Fletcher, glancing at his watch.
"There's a flight in an hour."
"He booked a hire car to await him at Freeport International," said Philips.
"One of ours?"
Yes. "
I looked at Walker.
"Can we bug that car? I mean, do we have the facilities handy?"
Walker shook his head.
"No, but we can have Rodriguez in Freeport in under four hours."
"Make the phone call, direct to Billy Cunningham. Tell him it's bloody urgent."
Walker picked up the telephone, and Fletcher said curiously, "What's all this about, Tom?"
"Something that Commissioner Perigord will want to know about."
I had made one mistake with Perigord and another was unthinkable.
"What room did Carrasco have?"
Philips said, "Three-one-six."
"Have it locked and sealed. We can get fingerprints." Walker heard that and nodded vigorously. I picked up the voucher which Walker had laid on the desk and tore it up; he would not need that now.
"How long do we keep Carrasco hanging about?" asked Fletcher.
"You can let him go as soon as Walker has finished his call and got a Bahamasair ticket to Freeport." There was a travel agency in the lobby, so I said to Philips, "Get that now and debit it to hotel expenses."
Carrasco had interrupted a transaction between another client and the cashier; he was obviously arguing and was tapping his wristwatch meaningfully. Walker put down the telephone.
"Fixed," he said.
"Rodriguez is coming over in the Jet Star with a bag of gadgets."
The minutes ticked by and Carrasco was becoming increasingly irritable. When I saw Philips walking across the lobby with an air ticket in his hand I said, "Okay, let him go now. Many apologies, and tell him his taxi fare to the airport is on us as compensation for the trouble we've caused him. Do a grovel."
Fletcher shrugged and left as Philips came in and gave Walker the ticket.
"Get a taxi for Mr. Walker and have it standing by," I said, and picked up the telephone to ring Perigord.
As I waited for him to come on the line I saw Jack Fletcher doing his obsequious act in a smarmy manner and I hoped he was not laying it on too thick. He escorted Carrasco to the door and Walker nodded to me and left without saying a word.
I got Perigord and told him what was happening. I said, "I don't want this man alarmed because we haven't got Robinson yet. Carrasco could lead us to him."
"At last you are using the brains you undoubtedly possess," said Perigord, and promised to have a discreet escort awaiting Carrasco at the airport.
I told him that Walker was on the same flight, then said, "One last thing; there'll be an American called Rodriguez coming in on the Cunningham Jet Star later today. I don't want the Customs holding him up by taking a too close interest in his bags. Can you arrange that?"
"Not if he's bringing firearms," said Perigord.
"You know that."
"No firearms my guarantee," I promised.
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