“They would. How are you feeling now?”
“Stiff and sore.”
“It could have been worse. If help had not arrived—”
“I’m not disagreeing with that,” Fletcher said. “But you still haven’t told me the reason. Why did you want to bring me here? What do you want to talk about?”
“About a sunken boat and five dead men, shall we say?”
Fletcher was not surprised. It seemed to be what everyone wanted to talk to him about. “Yes,” he said; “it had to be that. But how did you hear about it?”
“Information has a way of getting around once it’s been set moving. And the name of the boat was, I believe, Halcón Español Right?”
Fletcher remembered the warnings he had had. “I don’t know that I want to talk about it.”
“Because the police told you not to? Because Colonel Vincent advised you to keep a still tongue, perhaps?”
Fletcher reflected that Denning seemed to know a great deal. Information certainly had a way of getting around, though he could not understand how.
“There were others.”
“Ah, yes. Americans, possibly?”
So he knew that too. Or guessed.
It was the girl who broke in now. She was sitting on a sofa with her legs tucked under her and her shoes kicked off; and now that he could see her clearly Fletcher had to admit to himself that she had a lot going for her physically. He would have put her age at about twenty-five or so, and she was dark-haired, sloe-eyed, and with a pretty good sun-tan, which was not surprising considering the climate. She was wearing a shirt and slacks, and he thought she looked fine in them. She would have looked fine in just about anything — or nothing, if it came to that.
“Look, John,” she said, using his first name in that easy way Americans had, “why bother about all that official secret garbage? We know you found the boat, so let’s take it as read, shall we?”
“Well, if you know all about it already,” Fletcher said, “why did you go to the trouble of bringing me here? You could have saved yourselves a deal of bother.”
She glanced at Denning, leaving it to him.
Denning said: “There’s something else we want to know. What happened to the other photographs?”
“What do you mean by other photographs?” Fletcher asked.
“I mean there was one set of prints that Dharam Singh held back and then sold to Freedom. They were destroyed when the press was raided by the police. Singh may have kept others, but they will also have been destroyed or confiscated by the same people. That leaves the negatives and the prints he made for you. What we should like to know is, do you still have them?”
Fletcher shook his head. “No.”
Denning seemed disappointed. “No?”
“You appear to be so very well informed,” Fletcher said, “I should have thought you would have known that when the police picked up Dharam Singh they picked me up too. They guessed that I must have taken the photographs and they weren’t at all pleased with me for not having mentioned them when I reported finding the boat. I think it was touch and go whether or not they slung me in the jug, but finally I was let off with a caution. Then a Captain Green accompanied me back to Port Morgan and picked up the prints and negatives. He seemed to be in half a mind to take the camera as well, but he let me keep it. I suppose he thought I was hardly likely to go out to the wreck again and take another set of photographs.”
“And you didn’t keep any copies?”
“How could I? He was breathing down my neck all the time like a damned bloodhound.”
“I thought you might perhaps already have hidden some away.”
“Why the devil should I do that?”
Denning sighed. “Why, indeed! I suppose it never occurred to you that there might be such a demand for them?”
“You can bet your life it didn’t. And I still don’t understand why there’s such a song and dance about them.”
He thought Denning might give him an explanation, but he was to be disappointed in that. Denning was silent; he seemed to be thinking.
Fletcher looked at King. “You seem to have had all your bother for nothing. No pictures.”
“You should be glad we took the bother,” King said.
“Oh, I am. Believe me, I’m very grateful.”
Denning gave him a speculative look. “Do you really mean that?”
“Of course I mean it. Do you think I enjoy being beaten up?”
“In that case perhaps you would be prepared to show your gratitude in a practical way.”
Warning bells started ringing in Fletcher’s head; he had a nasty feeling that he was about to be asked to do something which might get him into more trouble. And he wanted no more; he just wanted to get away from it all; far, far away.
He answered warily: “What kind of way would that be?”
“You said just now you supposed Captain Green must have thought it was hardly likely you’d be fool enough to go back to the wreck and take some more pictures.”
“Now wait,” Fletcher said. “Don’t tell me you’re going to ask me to do just that.”
They were all staring at him now; he could almost feel them putting the pressure on him with their eyes.
“Why not?” Denning said.
“Why not! I’ll tell you why not. Because it’s crazy, that’s why not; just downright crazy.”
“Why crazy?”
“Well, for one thing because there wouldn’t be a chance of doing it. There’ll be police hanging around. They’ll be dredging up the bodies. Maybe salvaging the boat.”
“I don’t think so,” Denning said. “I don’t think the police will take any action of that kind whatever.”
“You may not think so, but that’s hardly good enough, is it? And even if they aren’t there, it wouldn’t be the same, you know.”
“In what way?”
“The corpses. I don’t know a lot about such things, but I’d say they’ll be deteriorating all the time. The pictures might not be so good.”
“That’s a risk we’d have to take.”
Which was all very fine for him, Fletcher thought. Who did he imagine was the joker who would be taking the risk?
“It can’t be done anyway.”
“No?” Denning said. “Why not?”
“I haven’t got my camera and diving gear.”
“But you know where they are.”
“And you think I can simply walk in and pick them up and tell Joby Thomas I want him to take me out to the same place? He’d never do it; never in a million years.”
“I was not suggesting that you should go with Mr. Thomas. This time we will provide the boat.”
“You?”
“Certainly. That’s no problem.”
“But there’s still the other problem.”
“You mean getting the camera?”
“Yes.”
“But it could be done. And you don’t need to bother about the diving gear; we can provide that too.”
“Are you suggesting I go back tonight and pick up the camera?”
“No; it is too late and there would be the risk of the car being stopped. I have a feeling, Mr. Fletcher, that after what has happened you may be on the police wanted list. Don’t you think it’s possible?”
“That’s all I needed,” Fletcher said. “So how do you expect me to get the camera? Do I just go back to Port Morgan tomorrow in broad daylight?”
Denning shook his head. “No; that would be very unwise indeed.”
“So what do you suggest?”
“That you wait until tomorrow night.”
“And then go and pick it up?”
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry,” Fletcher said, “but it’s not on; it’s simply not on.”
Denning frowned. “You mean you don’t think you can get the camera?”
“Well, it could be a bit dodgy; but I wasn’t thinking about that part of the operation. It’s the other part that really gives me the willies.”