the image of fast drivers. As a matter of fact, Peter Jensen could not remember having heard any automobiles drive into Bengal Court after nine o'clock in the evening since they had been there.
He had risen from the bed and walked out on the terrace, and had seen nothing. He had walked around the east end of the motel to the edge of the front parking lot, where he did see something; something extremely alarming, barely visible.
In the far section of the lot, in shadows, a large black man - he believed he was black - was lifting the unconscious figure of another man out of the rear seat of an automobile. Then, farther beyond, a white man ran across the lawn from around the corner of the west wing. It was Sam Tucker. He approached the black carrying the unconscious form, gave instructions - pointing to the direction from which he had come - and continued to the automobile, silently closing the rear door.
Sam Tucker was supposed to be in Ocho Rios with McAuliff. It seemed unlikely that he would have returned to Bengal Court alone.
And as Jensen pondered this, there was the outline of another figure on the west lawn. It was Alison Booth. She gestured to the black man; she was obviously excited, trying to remain in control of herself. She led the large black man into the darkness around the far corner.
Peter Jensen suddenly had a sinking feeling. Was the unconscious figure Alexander McAuliff? Then he rethought the immediate visual picture. He could not be sure - he could barely see, and everything was happening so rapidly - but as the black passed under the dim spill of a parking light, the bobbing head of his charge extended beyond his arms. Peter had been struck by the oddness of it. The head appeared to be completely bald... as if shaven.
Sam Tucker looked inside the automobile, seemed satisfied, then raced back across the west lawn after the others.
Peter remained crouched in his concealed position after the figure had disappeared. It was extraordinary. Tucker and Alison Booth were not in Ocho Rios; a man had been hurt, apparently quite seriously, and instead of taking him directly inside the motel's front entrance, they furtively carried him in, smuggled him in. And it might be conceivable that Sam Tucker would come back to Bengal Court without McAuliff; it was inconceivable that Alison Booth would do so.
What were they doing? What in heaven's name had happened... was happening?
The simplest way to find out, thought Peter, was to get dressed, return to the tiny bar, and, for reasons he had not yet created, call McAuliff for a drink.
He would do this alone. Ruth would remain in their room. But first Peter would walk down to the beach, to the water's edge, where he would have a full view of the motel and the oceanside terraces.
Once in the miniature lounge, Peter invented his reason to phone McAuliff. It was simple to the point of absurdity. He had been unable to sleep, taken a stroll on the beach, seen a light beyond the drawn curtains in Alexander's room, and gathered he had returned from Ocho Rios. Would he and Alison be his guests for a nightcap?
Jensen went to the house phone at the end of the bar. When McAuliff answered, his voice was laced with the frustration of a man forced to be civil in the most undesirable of circumstances. And McAuliffs lie was apparent.
'Oh, Jesus, Peter, thanks but we're beat. We just got settled at the Sans Souci when Latham called from the Ministry. Some damned bureaucratic problem with our interior permits; we had to drive all the way back for some kind of goddamned... inspection first thing in the morning... inoculation records, medical stuff. Crew, mainly.'
'Terribly inconsiderate, old boy. Nasty bastards, I'd say.'
'They are... We'll take a raincheck, though. Perhaps tomorrow.'
Peter had wanted to keep McAuliff on the phone a bit longer. The man was breathing audibly; each additional moment meant the possibility of Jensen's learning something. 'Ruth and I thought we'd hire a car and go to Dunn's Falls around noon tomorrow. Surely you'll be finished by then. Care to come along?'
'Frankly, Peter,' said McAuliff haltingly, 'we were hoping to get back to Ochee, if we could.'
'Then that would rule out Dunn's Falls, of course. You've seen it, though, haven't you? Is it all they say?'
'Yes... yes, it certainly is. Enjoy yourselves - '
'You will be back tomorrow night, then?' interjected