Jack Higgins - Passage by Night

The door closed softly behind him and Manning stayed there looking out across the harbour for a while, thinking about it all, and then he reached for his cap and went downstairs.

The bar was deserted and he went out on the terrace and found Viner having a late breakfast on his own. The German snapped his fingers for the waiter as Manning joined him.

‘What about some breakfast, Harry?’

Manning shook his head. ‘Just coffee.’

The waiter brought another cup, filled it and retired. Viner continued with his meal, obviously embarrassed, and Manning lit a cigarette and looked over the water at the dim bulk of Andros shimmering in the heat haze.

Viner finished eating and carefully fitted a cigarette into an elegant silver holder. ‘Your coffee’s getting cold.’

Manning emptied his cup and helped himself to some more. ‘Where’s Morrison? I was supposed to be taking him out at the crack of dawn.’

‘Under the circumstances, he didn’t think you’d be interested. Decided to take a run across to Nassau. Joe gave him a lift in the police launch.’

‘Did he tell you about Rodriguez?’

The German nodded. ‘It doesn’t make sense, Harry. To kill a man they think their enemy is one thing, but this sort of affair can only do their cause harm.’

‘Maybe they want to put a little fear into all of us,’ Manning said. ‘Show us they mean business. I think Joe was wrong about the way they planted the bomb, though.’

Viner looked surprised. ‘I thought his theory seemed pretty sound.’

‘So did I at first, but I’ve been thinking about it. Jimmy Walker always supervised loading himself. He had a thing about it ever since one of his shipping clerks tried to run a little heroin into Vera Cruz and Jimmy nearly took the drop for it. And he always locked that luggage compartment. He’d have noticed if anyone had tampered with that door.’

‘Then the bomb must have been taken on board in someone’s luggage. Probably by Rodriguez himself.’

Manning nodded. ‘Whoever it was wouldn’t know a thing about it. Probably planted at their hotel. Lots of people would have the opportunity. Chambermaids, waiters and so on. I shouldn’t have thought Rodriguez would have fallen for a thing like that, though. A man in his position only survives by being careful.’

‘Obviously he wasn’t careful enough,’ Viner said dryly. ‘But even if the bomb was planted in another passenger’s luggage, it shouldn’t be too difficult to find a culprit. We could start by checking on all staff taken on by the hotels in question during the past fortnight.’

‘A good point,’ Manning said. ‘Was anyone on that list staying here?’

Viner shook his head. ‘We know Rodriguez was at the Old Ship Tavern. We could make some enquiries there for a start. You know, the owner, Bill Lumley, as well as I do. He’ll help in any way he can.’

Manning swallowed the rest of his coffee and stood up. ‘I’ve got a better idea. You go see Bill. I’ll call at the shipping office and ask them for another copy of that passenger list. That’ll tell us where the other two were staying.’

Viner nodded. ‘I’ll meet you at the Old Ship then. What about the police?’

Manning shrugged. ‘Joe won’t get back till late this afternoon. Our bird could have flown the coop by then. I wouldn’t like that to happen.’

‘I don’t think I should, either,’ Viner said.

Manning left him there, went down the steps and turned along the waterfront. Seth was sitting on the sea wall talking to two sailors. He jumped down and crossed the dusty road.

‘We going out today, Harry?’

Manning shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’

He felt as if he were under deep water and everything seemed to move in slow motion. All sounds were muffled and far off. Even his own voice seemed to belong to a stranger and again he had that peculiar feeling that it was only a dream. That somehow he would wake up and that everything would be different.

The shipping office was dark and cool when he went inside. The black clerk was drinking a glass of ice water and he put it down hastily, his face sober.

‘What can I do for you, Mr Manning?’

‘I’d like a look at that passenger list,’ Manning said. ‘The one you showed Sergeant Howard.’

As the clerk started to search through a mass of papers, the door at the rear opened and a young black man entered. As he took off his jacket, the first man found what he was looking for.

‘This is it, Mr Manning. This is the one Sergeant Howard took a copy of.’ Course I didn’t make the original out. That was Bill here. He’s the night man.’

Bill moved forward, glanced at the passenger list and nodded. ‘That’s it, Mr Manning. That’s the final copy I made after Mr Walker left.’

‘Final copy?’ Manning said. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Well, sometimes people don’t show up for the flight,’ he explained. ‘When that happens we miss them off the final copy.’

Manning felt a coldness inside him. In that single instant, everything jumped back into focus. He leaned across the counter and said carefully, ‘Did someone fail to make the flight last night?’

The clerk nodded. ‘A Mr Garcia. He booked his seat around noon, but didn’t show up at flight time.’

‘And what about his luggage?’

‘Oh, that was on the plane. I told him it had to be here by seven. Mr Walker liked it stowed aboard early.’

‘Did you tell Sergeant Howard about this?’

The young clerk shook his head. ‘I ain’t seen him yet. Been sleeping. Only just heard about the accident half an hour ago. That’s why I came in.’

Manning turned slowly, found Seth standing at his shoulder. ‘You know what this means?’

Seth nodded soberly. ‘He’ll have left the island by now, Harry. Probably all arranged beforehand.’

Manning shook his head. ‘Never mind that. Get down to the harbour quick. See if you can find a boat that left last night, probably for Nassau. It shouldn’t be too difficult. I’m going to see Viner. I’ll meet you at the boat.’

Seth trotted away and Manning turned back along the waterfront. The Old Ship was a couple of hundred yards farther on, not far from the jetty. As he approached, he saw Viner standing by the main gate.

The German spread his hands in a vague Continental gesture. ‘No luck, Harry. Bill Lumley hasn’t taken on any new help since last season. All his present staff are islanders. Been with him for years.’

‘I’ve had a little more luck than that,’ Manning told him. ‘They missed someone off the passenger list. Man called Garcia. Apparently he never showed at flight time, but his luggage went aboard.’

‘Do you think he’ll still be here?’

‘Not a chance. I’ve sent Seth along the waterfront to see what he can find out.’

At that moment there was a shout and they turned to see Seth running towards them. Sweat poured down the big man’s face and his chest was heaving.

‘You were right, Harry. Manny Johnson took someone over to Nassau and it sounds like our man. He was sitting in Flo’s Bar around seven last night when this guy came in. Flo says they had a row. The trip had been fixed up two days before, but Manny wanted to call it off because of the weather. Flo says he only went because Garcia promised him another twenty quid.’

Manning slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Good man. Go and cast off. We’re getting out of here fast.’

Seth ran along the jetty and Manning said to Viner, ‘You could check on the other two hotels in case we’re on a wild goose chase, but I don’t think so.’

He moved away and the German said sharply, ‘Be careful, Harry. These people play rough.’

Manning turned, a slow, dangerous smile on his face like a fuse burning. ‘I only hope they do.’