Allison ran to the bar, got two glasses of ice, and poured some brown whiskey into both of them.

There was the sharp rap of a nightstick on the deck. "Ahoy, Expansive?

a deep voice called.

"Answer him!" Stone whispered, closing the engine room door and diving for the sofa.

"Hello!" Allison called back. She was halfway to the with the drinks when the first policeman appeared the stairs.

"Good afternoon," the man said. "I am Colonel ckler of the St. Marks police." Two other officers companionway behind him. afternoon, Colonel," Allison replied "We were just having a drink; can I get you tg?" "No, ma'am, thank you," the colonel said. Stone stood up.

"Colonel, I am Stone Barrington, Manning's lawyer. Is there something we can do you?" He took a drink from Allison and sat down. sat next to him. "Please," he said to the police' be seated." The policeman sat down gingerly at the chat't table. "I understand Mrs. Manning has made some travel plans," he said. Stone looked at him blankly, then at Allison. "Come again?" Allison said. "I believe you have recently chartered a yacht," the colonel said. Allison waved an arm about her.

"Colonel, I already have a yacht; why should I want to charter another one?" "Colonel," Stone said, "perhaps you could explain yourself?."

"Of course, Mr. Barrington," the policeman replied. "Earlier this afternoon a very fast yacht berthed here and cleared customs, stating his intention of picking up a charter passenger. And you were seen, not half an hour ago, having a drink at the bar of the Shipwright's Arms with that yacht's captain, and then going aboard her."

"That's quite true, Colonel," Stone said. "I met the man, whose name I believe is Sam, at the bar. I expressed an interest in his boat, and he was kind enough to offer me a tour." He said his charterer was a Mr. and Mrs. Chapman."

"Come, come, Mr. Barrington, you are being disingenuous," the policeman said.

"I assure you, I am not," Stone replied firmly.

"Colonel," Allison piped up, "why do you think I have anything to do with that yacht?"

"Yes, Colonel, why?" Stone asked.

"I am not a fool, Mr. Barrington," the man said. "Of course you aren't," Stone agreed. "But what, specifically, causes you to believe that Mrs. Manning has chartered the yacht? Have you spoken was the captain?"

"Not yet," the man admitted.

"Well, when you do, I'm sure he will tell you what he told me, that someone else has chartered his yacht."

"Oh, I will speak to him, Mr. Barrington; you may be sure of that." He stood up. "In the meantime, Mrs. Manning is confined to this yacht and to the Shipwright's Arms."

Allison shrugged. "I've hardly left this yacht since I came to St.

Marks, except at the insistence of Sir Winston Sutherland," she said.

"I don't know why I would want to leave it now. You see, Colonel, I am quite looking forward to my trial and acquittal."

"She is not to go to the airport or anywhere else on the island or to board any other yacht," the colonel said, continuing to address Stone, "on pain of immediate arrest and close confinement."

2;o

"I quite understand, Colonel," Stone said, "and believe me, Mrs.

Manning will follow your instructions to the letter."

The policeman saluted them smartly and, herding his colleagues before him, went up the companionway.

Stone followed them partway and watched as they marched off toward the Race.

CHAPTER.

one sat back down on the sofa and took a large swig of his drink. It turned out to be straight rum. "Jesus," he said, coughing, "I was expecting Scotch or something."

"I grabbed the first thing I saw," she said, sitting beside him. "That man frightened me very badly."

"I'm glad you still have the capacity for being frightened by something," he replied. "He was on the point of jailing you, you know."

"I believe you. What do I do now?"

"We've got to get that motor yacht out of English Harbour, that's what.

How did you go about chartering it?"

"I found an ad in an old yachting magazine we had aboard, and I called them. The money was wire-transferred from my Greenwich account."

Stone looked at her in amazement. "And how the hell did you accomplish all that? You've hardly left this yacht, and I've never seen you use a phone."

She got up, went to the chart table, opened a cup board behind it, took out what looked like a laptop computer and set it on the chart table.

Stone looked at the thing. "What is it?"

She opened it and displayed a telephone handset.

"A telephone?"

"A satellite telephone. The antenna is at the top of the mast."

"It works?"

"It certainly does. Would you like me to demonstrate

"Yes, please; call the broker and get tat yacht out of here."

She plugged the unit into a jack near the chart table,

switched it on, and waited. "It will seek a satellite," she said. A moment later, it beeped three times. She picked up the handset, consulted her address book, dialed a number, and pressed a button.

"Like a car phone," Stone said.

"Exactly, except it will work almost anywhere on

the face of the earth." She put the phone to her ear.

"Hello, Fred? It's Allison Manning; I'm sorry to bother you at home. I have some new instructions for you. Yes,

the yacht arrived, and now I have to get it out of here,

for the moment."

"Tell him to have them leave around nine this evening," Stone said. "No sooner."