Bahama Crisis

"And there's an armed police officer at the house."

"Oh!" said Billy.

"I didn't know that." He was silent for a moment.

"How will you find Robinson now?"

"I don't know," I said, and we discussed the problem for a few minutes, then I checked the time.

"I have an appointment with Perigord and his boss. Maybe they'll come up with something."

It was then that Rodriguez and the good news came in.

"I've got something for you," he said, and skimmed a black- and-white photograph across the desk.

It was a good photograph, a damned good photograph. It showed Carrasco hopping over the bows of a dory which had its prow dug into a sandy beach. The picture was as sharp as a pin and his features showed up clearly. In the stern of the dory, holding on to the tiller bar of an outboard motor, was another man who was equally sharply delineated. I did not know him.

"You took this last night?" Rodriguez nodded.

"You were crazy to use a flash. What did Carrasco do?"

"He did nothing. And who said anything about a flash? That crazy I'm not."

I stared at him then looked at the picture.

"Then how…?"

He laughed and explained. The 'gismo' mentioned by Walker was a light amplifier, originally developed by the military for gun sights used at night but now much used by naturalists and others who wished to observe animals.

"And for security operations," Rodriguez added.

"You can take a pretty good picture using only starlight, but last night there was a new moon."

I looked at the photograph again, then handed it to Billy.

"All very nice, but it doesn't get us very far. All that shows is Carrasco climbing from a boat on to a beach. We might get somewhere by looking for the man in the stern, but I doubt it. Anyway, I'll give it to Perigord; maybe he can make something of it."

"I took more than one picture," said Rodriguez.

"Take a look at this one especially at the stern." Another photograph skimmed across the desk.

This picture showed the dory again which had turned and was heading out to sea. And it was a jackpot because, lettered across the stern, were the words: "Tender to Capistrano'.

"Bingo!" I said.

"You might have made up for losing Carrasco last night." I looked at Billy.

"That's something for you to do while I'm with Perigord. Ring around the marinas and try to trace Capistrano."

Five minutes later I was in Perigord's office. Also present was Commissioner Deane, a big, white Bahamian with a face the colour of mahogany, and the authority he radiated was like a blow in the face.

I knew him, but not too well. We had been at school together in Nassau, but I had been a new boy when he was in his last year. I had followed him to Cambridge and he had gone on to the Middle Temple.

Returning to the Bahamas he had joined the Police Force, an odd thing for a Bahamian barrister to do, because mostly they enter politics with the House of Assembly as prime target. He was reputed to be tough and abrasive.

Now he said raspily, "This is a very strange business you've come up with, Mangan."

"We'd better discuss it later." I tossed the pictures before Perigord.

"Carrasco probably made a rendezvous with a boat called Capistrano. Rodriguez took those last night."

A little time was wasted while we discussed how Rodriguez could possibly have taken photographs at night without a flash, then Perigord twitched an eyebrow at Deane.

"With your permission?"

"Yes," said Deane.

"Get busy But you have a watching brief, that's all."

Perigord left, and Deane said, "As I started to say, you have come up with an oddity. You have suggested a crime, or a series of crimes, with no hard evidence merely a chain oi suppositions."

"No evidence! What about the ampoules taken from Carrasco?"

"Those won't be evidence until we find what is in them, and Perigord tells me that will take four days. We flew an ampoule to Nassau during the night. So far the whole affair is very misty. A lot of strange things have been happening around you, and don't think my deputy has not kept me informed. Now, these events are subject to many interpretations, as all subjective evidence is."

"Subjective!" I said incredulously.

"My first wife disappeared and my daughter was found dead; there's nothing bloody subjective about that. My second wife and I were kidnapped; I suppose we dreamed it up. There have been two cases of disease in hotels and that's fact.

Commissioner, bloody hard fact. "

"What is subjective is your interpretation of these events," said Deane.

"You have brought in a number of events the breakdown of a baggage carousel at the airport, a fire, an air crash, and a number of other things, and the only connection you can offer is your interpretation. Just give me one piece of hard evidence, something I can put before a court that's all I ask."

"You've got it the ampoules."

"I've got nothing, until four days from now. And what's in the ampoules might prove to be a cough cure."

"You can prove it right now," I said.