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      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

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