“We jus’ wanna live nice an’ quiet, see,” Joby said. “Not get mixed up in nothin’. We got kids—”
Fletcher saw that the two of them had been talking things over. Even before the arrival of Captain Green they had probably made the decision to ask him to leave. He did not blame them; they had to think about the welfare of the children as well as of themselves. They could hardly be expected to run the risk of continuing to provide lodgings for someone who had so evidently become unpopular not only with the police but with other influential people besides. That was no way to preserve a quiet life. And now the news of what had happened to Dharam Singh must have added a lot of extra weight to the argument.
“It’s all right,” he said. “I understand.”
“It’s not that we don’t like having you here,” Paulina said. “It’s just—”
“I know.”
“If we hadn’ gone to look for that damn ship,” Joby said, “there wouldn’ have bin no trouble. All ’cause of that damn ship.”
“Yes; it was a mistake. But how were we to know?”
“Well, we know now.”
They finished their beer. Joby took the empty cans into the kitchen and came back.
“I’ll look for somewhere else tomorrow,” Fletcher said.
Joby stared at him. “You mean you still plan to stick aroun’? You still don’ figure on leavin’ the island?”
“No. Why should I? I’ll just find other accommodation. That way you won’t be embarrassed.”
Joby shook his head doubtfully. “Might not be easy. Word’ll get aroun’.”
“You mean I could be on some kind of blacklist?”
“Don’ know ’bout no list. But when people like Colonel Vincent an’ Cap’n Green want you out there’s ways they have of makin’ things mighty hard. If you ask me, there’s nobody’s likely to have a room to let when you go askin’. Not even a hotel.”
“So that’s the way it is?”
Paulina was looking very unhappy. “We’re sorry. You know we don’t want to do this. We’ve enjoyed having you here and the children love you. But what else can we do?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Fletcher said. “I told you I understand. I’m not blaming you. Anything that’s happened has been my own fault. I should have taken that film to the police.”
“No,” Joby said; “you should’ve destroyed it an’ said nothin’, not a damn thing. That was the mistake — ever goin’ to them at all.”
“Maybe it was. But it’s done now. Tomorrow I’ll look for new lodgings.”
“It won’t be easy,” Paulina said.
It did not take him long to discover that she had been right. In the morning he went down to the Treasure Ship and consulted Fat Annie. If anyone knew of a room to let, she surely would. But he found Annie strangely unhelpful.
“No, Mist’ Fletcher, I don’t know no place you could get a room. We ain’t got none here and there ain’t nobody I know as has one, either”.
“But there must be someone with a room to spare,” Fletcher said.
“Not for you. Not for you, Mist’ Fletcher.”
He saw that Joby had been right: the word had got around.
“You mean there’d be a room for somebody else?”
“Could be.”
“But I’ve got a bad name? Is that it?”
“That Mist’ Singh,” Annie said, “he ain’t come home yet, so I hear. Folks say the cops smashed his place up before they took him away. You know anything about that, Mist’ Fletcher?”
She was digging for information; he could see a kind of greed in her eye. She knew very well that he had gone to Dharam Singh’s house after leaving the Treasure Ship the previous evening. Now she wanted to get the whole story from his own mouth. But he would not give her that satisfaction. He finished his drink and pushed away the empty glass.
“Well,” he said, “I’m sorry you can’t help me with finding a room. I shall just have to try elsewhere.”
The look Annie gave him held more than a hint of mockery. “You try, Mist’ Fletcher. You jest try.”
He tried. He went from house to house in the burning sun and got the same answer at each one. No rooms. He was damp with sweat when he finally decided to give up the search as hopeless; he was evidently going to find no accommodation in Port Morgan.
He passed Dharam Singh’s house on his way back along the main street. The front door was closed and the house seemed dead. The rust and the cracked plaster and the flaking paint looked worse than ever. He glanced up at the first floor windows and thought he caught a glimpse of one of the sisters peeping out, but he could not be sure. He was in half a mind to ring the bell and inquire whether there had been any news of the photographer, but decided that, coming from him, such an inquiry might not be welcome, and he walked on.
Joby was not at home when he got back to the bungalow. He told Paulina how unsuccessful his expedition had been. She refrained from saying that she had told him so, but it was probably in her mind.
“I’ll go over to Jamestown this afternoon.”
“You think you’ll have any better luck there?”
“I can try.”
“Well, if you think it’s worth while.”
She obviously did not think it was.
“I suppose you think I’m being just plain obstinate?”
“Well,” she said, giving him a pretty straight look, “aren’t you? Wouldn’t it be more sensible to do what everyone seems to want you to do?”
“Oh, certainly it would be more sensible. But why should I? Why should I let them kick me out?”
“If they really mean to, you can’t stop them.”
“I know that. But I’m damned if I’ll let them do it this way.”
“Suppose you don’t find accommodation in Jamestown. What then?”
He understood what she was saying; she meant that he could not expect to hang on to his room indefinitely while he went round hunting for new lodgings.
He smiled at her reassuringly. “Don’t worry. Whether I find anything or not, I’ll leave tomorrow. I won’t be an embarrassment to you any longer.”
He could see that she was relieved and that she was also a little ashamed of herself for being so.
“But what will you do if you haven’t found a place to go?”
“Maybe I’ll buy a tent and live rough.”
It failed to bring a smile to her face. It was no joking matter to her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I really am sorry.”
He might have saved himself the bother of going over to Jamestown. When he mentioned his name rooms became suddenly unavailable: they had just been taken; they had been promised to someone else; they were being redecorated or having new floors put in or simply being taken off the market. At the hotels it was the same story, and he could only marvel at the efficiency of Colonel Vincent’s organisation which had so effectively closed to him every kind of accommodation. He decided to call it a day and return to Port Morgan.
Joby had arrived home and was in the kitchen with Paulina. Fletcher gave them a brief report of his experience in Jamestown. Neither of them was surprised; they had known how it would be.
“So what now?” Joby asked.
Fletcher shrugged. “I don’t have much choice. Tomorrow I’ll see about getting a seat on the next flight out. Or maybe I’ll find a ship with a spare cabin. That’s one kind of accommodation that’s not likely to be barred to me.”
He was feeling tired and disillusioned, and he must have sounded a trifle bitter. Both Joby and Paulina looked uncomfortable, but their discomfort was not enough to make them change their minds and tell him he could continue to occupy the room. And he would not have accepted the offer now even if they had made it. He knew they wanted him out of their hair, and the sooner the better.
“Will you try to find those Americans?” Joby asked.