'Charles Whitehall. At three o'clock this morning. He was invited to Savanna-la-Mar to meet Chatellerault.'
'What were the circumstances?'
'The circumstances aren't important. The important fact is that Chatellerault is in Savanna-la-Mar. He is the houseguest of a family named Wakefield. They're white and rich.'
'We know them,' said Tallon, writing a note awkwardly with his arthritic hand. 'They're customers. What else do you have?'
'A couple of items. One is extremely important to me, and I warn you, I won't leave here until something's done about it.'
Tallon looked up from his notepaper. 'You make pronouncements without regard for realistic appraisal. I have no idea whether I can do anything about anything. Your camping here would not change that. Please continue.'
Alex described James Ferguson's unexpected meeting with Craft at the Palisados Airport and the manipulation that resulted in the electronic devices in his luggage. He detailed Craft's offer of money in exchange for information about the survey.
'It's not surprising. The Craft people are notoriously curious,' said Tallon, writing painfully on his notepaper. 'Shall we get to the item you say is so vital?'
'I want to summarize first.'
'Summarize what?' Tallon put down his pencil.
'What I've told you.'
Tallon smiled. 'It's not necessary, Mr McAuliff. I take notes slowly, but my mind is quite alert.'
'I'd like us to understand each other... British Intelligence wants the Halidon. That was the purpose - the only purpose - of my recruitment. Once the Halidon could be reached, I was finished. Complete protection still guaranteed to the survey team.'
'And so?'
'I think you've got the Halidon. Chatellerault and Craft.'
Tallon continued to stare at McAuliff. His expression was totally neutral. 'You have arrived at this conclusion?'
'Holcroft said this Halidon would interfere. Eventually try to stop the survey. Diagrams aren't necessary. The marquis and Craft fit the prints. Go get them.'
'I see...' Tallon reached once more for his cane. His personal sceptre, his sword Excalibre. 'So, in one extraordinary simplification, the American geologist has solved the riddle of the Halidon.'
Neither man spoke for several moments. McAuliff broke the silence with equally quiet anger. 'I could get to dislike you, Mr Tallon. You're a very arrogant man.'
'My concerns do not include your approval, Mr McAuliff. Jamaica is my passion - yes, my passion, sir. What you think is not important to me... except when you make absurd pronouncements that could affect my work... Arthur Craft, pere et fils, have been raping this island for half a century. They subscribe to the belief that theirs is a mandate from God. They can accomplish too much in the name of Craft; they would not hide behind a symbol. And Halidon is a symbol, Mr McAuliff... The Marquis de Chatellerault? You were quite correct. Mrs Booth was manipulated - brilliantly, I think - into your survey. It was cross-pollination, if you like; the circumstances were optimum. Two kling-klings in a hibiscus, one inexorably forcing the other to reveal himself. She was bait, pure and simple, Mr McAuliff. Chatellerault has long been suspected of being an associate of Julian Warfield. The marquis is with Dunstone, Limited.' Tallon lifted his cane up laterally, placed it across his desk, and continued to gaze blankly at Alex.
McAuliff said finally, 'You withheld information; you didn't tell me things I should have been told. Yet you expect me to function as one of you. That smells, Tallon.'
'You exaggerate. There is no point in complicating further an already complicated picture.'
'I should have been told about Chatellerault, instead of hearing his name from Mrs Booth.'
Tallon shrugged. 'An oversight. Shall we proceed?'
'All right. There's a man named Tucker. Sam Tucker.'
'Your friend from California? The soil analyst?'
'Yes.'
McAuliff told Hanley's story without using Hanley's name. He emphasized coincidence of the two blacks who had removed Tucker's belongings and the two Jamaicans who had followed his taxi in the green Chevrolet sedan. He described briefly the taxi owner's feats of driving skills in the racetrack park, and gave Tallon the license-plate number of the Chevrolet.
Tallon reached for his telephone and dialled without speaking to Alex. 'This is Tallon,' he said quietly into the phone. 'I want MV information. It is urgent. The license is KYB-448. Call me back on this line.' He hung up and shifted his eyes to McAuliff. 'It should take no longer than five minutes.'
'Was that the police?'
'Not in any way the police would know... I understand the Ministry received your permits today. Dunstone does facilitate things, doesn't it?'
'I told Latham I was leaving for Ocho Rios tomorrow afternoon. I won't if Tucker doesn't