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As Manning moved across to the reception desk, the clerk saw him coming and grinned, 'Good to see you, Mr Manning.'

Manning helped himself to a cigarette from the box on the desk. 'Mr Viner said he'd hold Senorita Salas's old room for me.'

That's right, sir.' The clerk took a key down from the board. 'You going up now?'

Manning nodded. 'Is Mr Viner around?'

'I believe he's in his office. I'd be glad to phone through and check for you.'

Manning shook his head. 'I'll see him later. Right now I need a shower more than anything else.'

He went upstairs quickly, Orlov at his heels, and moved along the carpeted corridor to Maria's room. The shades were drawn and the bed had been freshly made. It was cool and dark and he stood there listening for something, aware of a feeling of unreality so strong that it took a conscious effort to pull himself out of it.

'Bath and a shower through there,' he told Orlov. 'Clean clothes in the wardrobe. Just help yourself.'

'You're going to see Morrison?'

'No sense in wasting time.'

Morrison's room was on the next floor. He went upstairs quickly and paused outside the door. He knocked softly, opened it and went it.

'Put it on the table, son. I'll be right in,' Morrison called from the terrace.

Manning waited, a slight smile on his face. When the American appeared he was wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. He carried a book in one hand, sunglasses in the other. When he saw Manning, a look of complete astonishment appeared on his face.

'Well I'll be damned. I thought it was room service.'

'There was another knock on the door and Manning moved quickly into the bathroom. He heard the door open, the murmur of voices, and it closed again. When he emerged, Morrison was putting a tray containing a half bottle of whiskey and a jug of ice water on the table.

'There should be a tooth glass in there somewhere.'

Manning found the glass, rinsed it and went back into the bedroom. Morrison was standing at the window looking out to sea. He turned and nodded towards the tray.

'Help yourself.'

Manning half-filled his glass with whiskey, topped it with ice water and took it down in two easy swallows. He shook his head, slumped into a chair and reached for the bottle again.

'You look as if you've been through the mill,' Morrison said. 'Did you manage to get a boat in Harmon Springs?'

'I got a boat all right. I even got into San Juan.' Manning swallowed some more of his whiskey. 'A waste of time. The man I should really have been looking for was back here on Spanish Cay.'

Morrison frowned. 'What are you trying to say?'

'That Kurt Viner's in this business right up to his neck.'

Morrison moved across to the wardrobe, took out a suit and a fresh shirt and threw them on the bed. 'Tell me about it while I dress. Everything, mind you. Don't leave a damned thing out. This could be more important than you know.'

Manning helped himself to another drink and started to talk. It didn't take long and when he had finished, Morrison was standing in front of the mirror fastening his tie.

He reached for his coat. 'And this guy Orlov, you've got him downstairs now?'

Manning nodded. 'Never mind him. What about Viner? What do you think?'

Morrison shook his head. 'Hard to say. For what it's worth, I don't see him as anything more than a front man. The rest of them, the really important ones, are out there somewhere, just waiting.'

'But waiting for what?' Manning said. 'And how can you be sure they're still around?'

'They sabotaged another tracker station the day you left. Better than a million dollars' worth of damage and not a trace of them.'

'Then the solution's obvious. Call out the Marines, the Navy, anything it takes. You're bound to find them in the end.'

Morrison shook his head. 'You said it yourself. Seven hundred islands, two thousand cays and rocks. It could take weeks and we can't stand a stink at this time. The top brass aren't due till next week, but our Secretary of State and your own Foreign Secretary start