Quiller Barracuda

'You'll have to prove that, or I'm turning you in.' She searched for the knife wound, somewhere under my shirt, left side, found it. 'Handkerchief? Okay, keep it pressed there while I get the car.'

On the way to the tug I showed her my identity and told her there were two bodies back there, Fidel's and Nicko's, and perhaps a man still alive, Vicente, in the water, she could phone the rescue team and tell them that. Then I lost the whole thing and woke up on the boat.

'I was a nurse,' she said, 'for seven years. Does that hurt?'

'No.' Morning light across the sea. I'd slept nearly five hours and woke feeling successful, in a way, because I'd got that man's wallet and it had Proctor's number in it, or the number of the place where he could be reached, where Nicko had reached him from the boat.

'I liked it,' she said, 'being a nurse. But those male chauvinist pigs finally got under my skin and I quit, slammed the door of the emergency room in one of their faces, as a matter of fact, broke his nose. They think we're just their assistants, but nursing's a profession too; we're professionals like they are, and we spend a lot more time with the patients, and get very much closer, and that matters, you know, it's very often a question of life and death if you hold someone's hand at the right moment. But those bastards just think we're scullery maids. Keep your arm away, this is the last one.' Curved needle, going into the flesh and out again across the wound, she might have been sewing a sock, very expert. 'I keep this kit for me, really. How do you feel?'

'Good shape.'

'Because you've lost some blood, as you know, but we can't tell how much. You're a bit white still, but that could be shock hanging about. Hold absolutely still while I get a bandage.'

Came back and I said, 'Are you a police reservist or something?'

'Volunteer diver, that's all. They beeped me. So I want to know all about it, Richard, because I could be some kind of accessory after the fact or concealing evidence or a dozen other things.' Looking at me straight. 'I took a risk, bringing you here, and you owe me. But all I want is the truth.'

Told her the whole thing and there wasn't any danger in that because she already knew I was looking for Proctor and the only thing I was adding now was that Proctor was looking for me.

'When you say he's "looking for you", what exactly does that mean?'

'He'd like to find me.'

It wasn't an answer and she knew that. In a moment – 'Is he trying to kill you?'

'I think so.'

She dropped the unused bandage into the medical kit and snapped the lid shut. 'Was that him, shooting at your car?'

'No.'

'How d'you know?'

'He's no good with a gun.'

'All right, then did he set you up?'

'Either he did, or whoever he's working for.'

'Is he working for Toufexis?'

'I don't know.'

'Look, if you'd rather -'

'I don't honestly know. But I'd like to.'

'Well that's the point.' She'd seen the yacht with the slack canvas coming out of the bay, and watched it for a moment. 'If you want to find Proctor, maybe I can help. But you'll have to tell me more about things, and if you'd rather not, then say so.'

'Why would you want to help me?'

In the labyrinth, where you can't see much more than the next corner, it's nice to know which side people are on, and even nicer to know why. People change their minds sometimes, and that's because their motivation isn't strong enough to keep them stable: it happens all the time.

'I think I want to help you,' she said in a moment, 'because I like you. Not like, exactly. I find you intriguing. First you get shot at and bloody nearly burned alive and the next time I see you it's six fathoms down with bodies and banknotes all over the place.' She held her gaze for a while. 'Turns me on. And as I told you, he's an absolute shit and I'd very much like to see you put him in the gun sights and drop him stone cold dead.' Looking down, 'I phoned your hotel, after that shooting, to see if you were still in the land of the living.'

'Kind of you.'

In a moment she said, 'I did a year in bomb disposal when I was still in England. It -'

'That was before you lost your father?'

She looked up quickly. 'Yes. Why?'

'I mean you had these -' wrong start, had these suicidal tendencies was not very flattering – 'these urges to push things to the brink quite a while ago.'

She watched me quietly and when she spoke again her voice was lower. 'I suppose so. We're a bit alike, aren't we? It used to turn me on – and this is why I mentioned it, actually, about bomb disposal – it used to give me a real kick to sort of be in their presence, just sitting quietly in front of those things, knowing how much awful power there was in them. And being close to you gives me the same feeling, I mean the tension comes off you in absolute waves. And I like that.'

She got up and took the medical kit to the other end of the cabin and put it into a cupboard and then went into the head, and this was the first chance I'd had so I went over to the phone and dialled the number.

'Yes?'

'Shadow safe.'

I left it at that and hung up. He would have had support people watching my hotel and they would have expected me there after I'd called him last night from the quay, and they'd have started worrying by first light and Ferris would have signalled the board as a matter of routine, executive missing, and that boat had made a lot of noise with all the police and everything and he might have put things together and started a search.

When Kim came back she said, 'I want you to rest for a bit longer,' and dropped a pile of magazines onto the bamboo stool, 'just till you get your colour back.'

That had been hours ago and now she was honing the knife and not talking very much. She'd gone into a kind of shell, and I didn't disturb her, spoke only when she spoke.

'Sometimes you won't see one for weeks, then you'll see a whole group, moving in to feed on something.'

Something like Roget, the black, still floating out there, unless his finger had got jammed inside the trigger guard of the big Suzi and he'd gone all the way down.

'Have you seen one today?'

'Couple of dorsal fins. Over there, look.'

Cutting the surface a hundred yards away, splinters of light flashing as they turned and caught the sun. I hadn't noticed them.

The noon heat pressed down, its weight seeming to calm the sea. The glare came up from the water blinding bright, flooding the cabin and bouncing, flashing on brasswork and reflecting in barbs of light. The silence was absolute and there was no motion except when the swell rolled under the boat; we floated here in isolation, trapped between sky and sea under the burning-glass of the sun.

'Did you expect them to be there?' I asked her.

Sound carried, and we spoke in murmurs.

'In a way, yes.' She turned the blade again on the stone. 'I've been getting a feeling, lately. A feeling it won't be long.'

I watched the two fins. I think there was a third now but the light was tricky, the whole surface shimmering. 'Before you find the one you're looking for?'

'Yes.' Looking up at me, 'Do you get feelings like that? Presentiments?'

'Yes.' It was a third fin, I could see it clearly now. 'What kind are they?'

'I'd say they're nurses. Not grey ones, but still aggressive.'

'How big?'

'Maybe three metres, fully grown. I've seen -' she broke off as the water flashed over there and a slim metallic body broke the surface. 'No, they're threshers – that one's over four metres. It was a thresher that killed him. I got a close look.' She was silent for a time, her eyes on the rhythmic stroking of the blade. 'They hunt in packs.'

'How many is a pack?'

'It varies. Anything from ten to thirty. They've got large eyes,' she said, 'green ones, like mine.' She was watching them all the time now, the knife still in her hand.