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would have remembered him the moment you mentioned his name.’
    ‘But he didn’t?’
    ‘I thought I’d just made that clear.’
    ‘Do you own a boat, señor?’
    ‘Yes. Why should the question concern you?’
    ‘What kind is it?’
    ‘A sixty-foot motor-cruiser.’
    ‘Did you go out in it a week ago yesterday?’
    ‘I really can’t answer. I don’t remember every time I take her out.’
    ‘But surely you would remember if you went out that Saturday night to meet señor Green?’
    ‘I must have misunderstood you. I thought you said that Green was piloting a plane which crashed at sea?’
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘Then I could hardly have sailed out to meet him. Absurd things happen on this island, but hardly that absurd.’
    ‘Not so absurd if you picked him up after he parachuted from the plane.’
    ‘Far, far too absurd,’ he said drily.
    ‘Green was one of your salesmen,’ said Ware.
    ‘If he’s the same man, that’s correct.’
    ‘He’s been described as a man with a golden tongue. Was it his golden tongue, suitably barbed, which inveigled you into helping him fake his own death?’
    Bennett said coldly: ‘I’ve been very patient, but I do have my limits and you’ve just breached them. Perhaps you’d be kind enough to leave.’
    Alvarez looked across at Ware, then stood. ‘We may wish to ask you further questions at another time.’
    ‘Then I hope that you’ll at least do me the credit of making them more intelligent.’ He did not stand as they left.
    The woman was waiting in the sitting-room. Ware said, his tone ironic: ‘What’s the betting he called her up on the intercom and told her to make certain that we don’t pinch anything on our way out?’
    They drove down the winding road to the gates, which opened as they came in sight of them. Once through the gateway and on the road, Ware said: ‘What do you make of him?’
    Alvarez answered carefully: ‘He certainly acts like a great hidalgo.’
    ‘If that means a cold, condescending bastard, I’ll agree!’
    ‘But perhaps his manner was telling us more than that he considers himself to be a great man. Someone who is afraid often attacks as a form of defence.’
    ‘All right, let’s assume he didn’t like our questions one little bit. Where do we go from here?’
    ‘To whichever restaurant we decide on. It’s lunch-time.’
    Ware laughed. ‘You’re a great man for getting your priorities right.’
    It was after 4.30 when they walked along the eastern arm of the harbour to the harbourmaster’s office, two rooms which were filled to overflowing with tables, bookcases, filing-cabinets, and instruments, and kept cool by air-conditioning and outside awnings.
    The elderly harbourmaster shook his head. ‘I know señor Bennett’s boat right enough since it’s one of the largest in the harbour. But I’ve no idea whether she was at sea a week ago last night.’
    ‘You don’t keep a log of movements?’
    ‘Normally, no; there’s no reason to do so. It’s very different if we’ve reason to suspect smuggling. Then we keep a close watch.’
    ‘Of course.’
    The harbourmaster was uncertain whether or not that had been said ironically.
    ‘Which is his boat?’
    ‘The last but one tied up at this quay. I don’t remember her name, but she’s a trawler yacht, with plenty of accommodation.’
    ‘Have you ever been aboard it?’
    ‘He’s never asked me aboard. He’s not a friendly man; polite, but not friendly.’
    Alvarez translated what had been said. Ware asked: ‘What do we do now?’
    ‘We’ll search the boat.’
    ‘Without a search warrant?’
    ‘Sometimes, things are easier in this country than they are in yours.’ Alvarez thanked the harbourmaster and then they left the building and walked up the quay to the penultimate boat.
    She was stern-fast to the quayside and a small gangway, with stainless steel stanchions and whitened ropes, was pushed inboard so that there was no immediate way of boarding. She was not