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“We shall, of course, require the film and any prints you may have,” Colonel Vincent said. “You haven’t, I hope, given any copies away?”

“No.”

“Well, that at least is something to be thankful for. You don’t have them on you, I suppose?”

“No; they’re in my room.”

“In Port Morgan?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Captain Green will go back with you and pick them up. And don’t do anything foolish like trying to keep any of them. We want them all. Is that understood?”

“It’s understood. And I don’t want to keep any of them. I never want to see the damned things again. They’ve caused me enough bother already.”

“You caused yourself that,” Vincent said. He gave a nod to Captain Green. “All right.”

“If you’re ready, Mr. Fletcher,” Green said, “we’ll be on our way.”

Fletcher stood up. Green was already moving towards the door. Vincent was stowing the copy of Freedom safely away.

“There is just one other thing,” Fletcher said.

Vincent glanced up at him. “Yes?”

“I wonder whether you know anything of two men named Hutchins and Brogan? Americans.”

Vincent’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Why do you ask?”

“I had a talk with them yesterday. They advised me to leave the island.”

“Did they indeed?”

“Yes. They advised it pretty strongly. They even used a bit of pressure.”

“Is that so? And what was your answer?”

“I said I liked it here. It’s a pleasant island.”

“I hope you continue to find it pleasant.”

“Is there any reason why I should not?”

Vincent did a little circular massage on his left cheek with two fingers. “That, I think, rather depends on you.”

Fletcher noticed that he had not said whether or not he knew Hutchins and Brogan. It seemed fairly obvious that he had no intention of providing any enlightenment on that point, so Fletcher turned and walked towards the door where Captain Green was waiting for him. He was about to go out of the room when he heard Vincent’s voice again, low-pitched and a trifle insinuating perhaps.

“Maybe you should have taken the money, Mr. Fletcher. Maybe that would have been the wisest thing to do.”

Which was rather a funny thing to say, Fletcher thought, bearing in mind the fact that he had made no mention of any money.

SIX:

PRESSING INVITATION

If he had had any thoughts of hanging on to a set of the photographs it would have been difficult to do so. Captain Green stayed as close to him as a Siamese twin and made a search of the room before leaving.

“Do you have a warrant to do that?” Fletcher asked.

Captain Green looked at him with a sardonic grin. “Do you have any objection?”

Fletcher doubted whether it would have made any difference if he had had any objection, and he decided to make a show of being co-operative.

“No. You go right ahead.”

“Thank you,” Green said; and he went right ahead, making it a very thorough search indeed. He even leafed through the copybook in which Fletcher had jotted down a few notes. “This what you write?”

“It’s what I write.”

“Don’t amount to much, does it?”

“Not yet.”

Green put the copybook down. Fletcher was glad there was nothing political in it. Green turned his attention to the camera.

“So this is what you used?”

“Yes.”

“Nice job. Must have cost a lot of money.”

“Too much.”

It was a Japanese camera, compact but efficient. It had been secondhand when he bought it, but it had set him back quite a bit nevertheless.

Green was still holding it in his hand. “Any film in it now?”

“No,” Fletcher said. He showed Green how to operate the camera. “Are you interested in cameras?”

“I’m interested in this one,” Green said.

Fletcher wondered whether he was going to confiscate it, but he had had no orders from Colonel Vincent to do that and he had no sound excuse for doing so. He handed it back to Fletcher.

“Yes,” he said, “a very nice job. But in future be careful what you photograph with it.”

“You don’t need to tell me,” Fletcher said. “I don’t intend photographing another boat or another dead man as long as I live.”

Captain Green nodded. “That’s a very wise resolution.” He gave a grin. “After all, what good can it do you?”

“No good at all.”

“Now,” Green said, “I think I’d better have a word with Mr. Thomas.”

He had his word with Joby in private. They went out into the garden and talked under the stars. When Green left, Joby came back indoors. The children were in bed, and he went into the kitchen and got himself a can of beer and brought it to the living-room where Paulina and Fletcher were waiting for him.

“You want a beer?” Joby asked, looking at Fletcher.

“I’ll get it,” Fletcher said. He got up. “Shall I bring you one, Paulina?”

She shook her head. “Not for me, thanks.”

He got the can from the refrigerator and brought it into the living-room and sat down and drank from the can. Joby was still standing. Fletcher thought there was a sullen look about him.

“Well? What did he say to you?”

“He warned me,” Joby said.

“What did he warn you about?”

“’Bout waggin’ my tongue. ’Bout the kinda places I take people to. ’Bout a lotta things. I gotta be careful or mebbe I don’t have no boat no more.”

“It won’t come to that,” Fletcher assured him. “Just be careful and keep your mouth shut and everything will be all right. And it could have been worse. Have you heard what happened to Dharam Singh?”

They had not heard. Fletcher told them.

Paulina’s eyes widened and she looked scared. “They smashed up his studio and arrested him just because he processed the film for you?”

“Oh, no,” Fletcher said. “If he’d done no more than that he’d have been safe enough; nobody would have laid a finger on him. But he wasn’t content with that; he had to keep a set of the prints and sell them to Freedom.”

“Oh, man!” Joby said. “That was a fool thing to do.”

“Unlucky, too. The police got a tip-off and raided the press. They confiscated the entire edition before it could go into circulation, and then they paid Singh a visit and picked me up as well.”

“But you’re not under arrest.”

“Not yet I think you might say I’m on probation. Like you, I’ve had a warning to be on good behaviour. What they’d really like is for me to leave, but they seem to be reluctant to kick me out. Maybe they think it would be bad publicity.”

“And you still plan to stay on?”

“I’ve no other plans at present.”

Joby exchanged a glance with Paulina; neither of them appeared completely at ease. Joby gave a nervous cough.

“Mebbe you should have.”

“You mean you think I should leave?”

“Lotta people advisin’ you to. Could be they’re not all wrong.”

Fletcher looked at Paulina. “Is that what you think?”

She answered with some apparent reluctance: “It’s bad having the police around. They can make a lot of trouble. We don’t want trouble.”