Sister May was giving me a bed bath, with a basin of suds and a face cloth, when there was a monumental demonstration of my physical well-being. Even I, who was no stranger to the phenomenon, was impressed, while Sister May was so overcome that her voice became a husky little whisper.

"Lord!" she said. "You've sure got your strength back."

"Sister May, do you think we should waste that?" I asked, and -she shook her head vehemently.

from then onwards I began to take a more cheerful view of my circ.u.mstances, and not surprisingly the Fcanvas-wrapped secret off Big Gull Island began to nag me. I felt my good resolutions weakening.

"I'll just take a look," I told myself. "When I am sure the dust has really settled."

They were allowing me up for a few hours at a time now, and I felt restless and anxious to get on with it. Not even Sister May's devoted efforts could blunt the edge of my awakening energy. Macnab was impressed.

"You heal well Harry old chap. Closing up nicely another week." "A week, h.e.l.l!" I told him determinedly. Seven days from now I was making the night run. c.o.ker had set it up without trouble - and I was just about stony broke. I needed that run pretty badly.

My crew came up to visit me every evening, and to report progress on the repairs to Dancer. One evening Angelo arrived earlier than usual, he was dressed in his courting gear - rodeo boots and all - but he was strangely subdued and not alone.

The la.s.s with him was the young nursery grade teacher from the goverriment school down near the fort. I knew her well enough to exchange smiles on the street. Missus Eddy had summed up her character for me once.

"She's a good girl, that Judith. Not all flighty and flirty like some others. Going to make some lucky fellow a good wife."

She was also good-looking with a tall willowy figure, neatly and conservatively dressed, and she greeted me shyly.

"How do, Mister Harry."

"h.e.l.lo, Judith. Good of you to come," and I looked at Angelo, unable to hide my grin. He couldn't meet my eye, colouring up as he hunted for words.

"Me and Judith planning to marry up," he blurted at last. "Wanted you to know that, boss."

"Think you can keep him under control, Judith?" I laughed delightedly.

"You just watch me," she said with a flash of dark eyes that made the question superfluous.

"That's great - I'll make a speech at your wedding," I a.s.sured them. "You going to let Angelo go on crewing for me?"

"Wouldn't ever try to stop him," she a.s.sured me. "It's good work he's got with you."

They stayed for another hour and when they left I felt a small p.r.i.c.kle of envy. It must be a good feeling to have someone - apart from yourself. I thought some day if I ever found the right person I might try it. Then I dismissed the thought, raising my guard again. There were a h.e.l.l of a lot of women - and no guarantee you will pick right.

Macnab discharged me with two days to spare. My clothes hung on my bony frame, I had lost nearly two stone in weight and my tan had faded to a dirty yellow brown, there were big blue smears under my eyes and I still felt weak as a baby. The arm was in a sling and the wounds were still open, but I could change the dressing myself.

Angelo brought the pick-up to the hospital and waited while I said goodbye to Sister May on the steps.

Nice getting to know you, Mister Hairy."

"Come out to the shack some time soon. I'll grill you a mess of crayfish, and we'll drink a little wine."

"My contract ends next week. I'll be going home to England then."

"You be happy, hear," I told her.

Angelo drove me down to Admiralty, and with Chubby we spent an hour going over Dancer's repairs.

Her decks were snowy white, and they had replaced all the woodwork in the saloon bulkhead, a beautiful piece of joinery with which even I could find no fault.

We took her down the channel as far as Mutton Point and it was good to feel her riding lightly under my feet and hear the sweet burble of her engines. We came home in the dusk to tie up at moorings and sit out on the bridge in the dark, drinking beer out of the can and talking.

I told them that we had a run set for the following night, and they asked where to and what the cargo was. That was all - it was set, there was no argument.

"Time to go," Angelo said at last. "Going to pick Judith up from night school," and we rowed ash.o.r.e in the dinghy. There was a police Land-Rover parked beside my old pick-up at the back of the pineapple sheds and Wally, the young constable, climbed out as we approached. He greeted his uncle, and then turned to me.

"Sorry to worry you, Mister Harry, but Inspector Daly wants to see you up at the fort. He says it's urgent."

"G.o.d," I growled. "It can wait until tomorrow." "He says it can't, Mister Harry." Wally was apologetic, and for his sake I went along.

"Okay, I'll follow you in the pick-up - but we got to drop Chubby and Angelo off first."

I thought it was probably that Daly wanted to haggle about his pay off. Usually Fred c.o.ker fixed that, but I guessed that Daly was raising the price of his honour.

Driving onehanded and holding the steering wheel with a knee while I shifted gear with my good hand, I followed the red tail lights of Wally's Land-Rover rattling over the drawbridge and parked beside it in the courtyard of the fort.

The ma.s.sive stone walls had been built by slave labour in the mid-eighteenth century and from the wide ramparts the long thirty-six-pounder cannon ranged the channel and the entrance to Grand Harbour.

One wing was used as the island police headquarters, jail and armoury the rest of it was government offices and the Presidential and State apartments.

We climbed the front steps to the charge office and Wally led me through a side door, and along a corridor, down steps, another corridor, more stone steps.

I had never been down here before and I was intrigued. The stone walls here must have been twenty feet thick, the old powder store probably. I half expected the Frankenstein monster to be lurking behind the thick oak door, iron studded and weathered, at the end of the last pa.s.sage. We went through.

It wasn't Frankenstein, but next best. Inspector Daly waited for us with another of his constables. I noticed immediately they both wore sidearms. The room was empty except for a wooden table and four PWD type chairs. The walls were unpainted stonework and the floor was paved.

At the back of the room an arched doorway led to a row of cells.

The lights were bare hundred-watt bulbs hanging on black electrical cable that ran exposed across the beamed roof. They cast hard black shadows in the angles of the irregularly shaped room.

On the table lay my FN carbine. I stared at it uncomprehendingly.

Behind me Wally closed the oak door. "Mr. Fletcher, is this your firearm?" "You know d.a.m.n well it is," I said angrily. "Just what the h.e.l.l are you playing at, Daly?"

"Harold Delville Fletcher, I am placing you under arrest for the unlawful possession of Category A firearms. To wit, one unlicensed automatic rifle type Fabrique Nationale Serial No. 4163215."

"You're off your head," I said, and laughed. He didn't like that laugh. The weak little lips below his moustache puckered up like those of a sulky child and he nodded at his constables. They had been briefed, and they went out through the oak door.

I heard the bolts shoot home, and Daly and I were alone. He was standing well away from me across the room - and the flap of his holster was unb.u.t.toned.

"Does his excellency know about this, Daly?" I asked, still smiling.

"His excellency left St. Mary's at four o'clock this after, noon to attend the conference of Commonwealth heads in London. He won't be back for two weeks."

I stopped smiling. I knew it was true. "In the meantime I have reason to believe the security of the State is endangered." He smiled now, thinly and with the mouth only. "Before we go any further I want you to be sure I am serious."

"I believe you," I said.

"I have two weeks with you alone, here, Fletcher. These walls are pretty thick, you can make as much noise as you like."

"You are a monstrous little t.u.r.d, you really are."

"There is only one of two ways you are going to leave here.

Either you and I come to an arrangement - or I'll get Fred c.o.ker to come and fetch you in a box."

"Let's hear your deal, little man."

"I want to know exactly - and I mean exactly - where your charter carried out their diving operations before the shoot out." "I told you somewhere off Rastafa Point. I couldn't give you the exact spot."

"Fletcher, you know the spot to within inches. I'm willing to stake your life on that. You wouldn't miss a chance like that. You know it. I know it - and they knew it. That's why they tried to sign you off."

"Inspector, go screw," I said.

"What is more it was nowhere near Rastafa Point. You were working north of here, towards the mainland. I was interested - I had some reports of your movements."

"It was somewhere off Rastafa Point," I repeated doggedly. "Very well," he nodded. "I hope you aren't as tough as you put out, Fletcher, otherwise this is going to be a long messy business. Before we start though, don't waste our time with false data. I'm going to keep you here while I check it out - I've got two weeks."

We stared at each other, and my flesh began to crawl. Peter Daly was going to enjoy this, I realized. There was a gloating expression on those thin lips and a smoky glaze to his eyes.

"I had a great deal of experience in interrogation in Malaya, you know. Fascinating subject. So many aspects to it. So often it's the tough, strong ones that pop first - and the little runts that hang on for ever.

This was for kicks, I saw clearly that he was aroused by the prospect of inflicting pain. His breathing had changed, faster and deeper, there was fresh colour in his cheeks.

"---of course, you are at a physical low ebb right now, Fletcher.

Probably your threshold of pain is much lowered after your recent misadventures. I don't think it will take long."

He seemed to regret that. I gathered myself, tightening up for an attempt.

"No," he snapped. "Don't do it, Fletcher." He placed his hand on the b.u.t.t of the pistol. He was fifteen feet away. I was one-armed, weak, there was a locked door behind me, two armed constables - my shoulders sagged as I relaxed.

"That's better." He smiled again. "Now I think we will handcuff you to the bars of a cell, and we can get to work. When you have had enough you have merely to say so. I think you will find my little electrical set-up simple but effective. It's merely a twelve-volt car battery - and I clip the terminals on to interesting parts of the body-" He reached behind him - and for the first time I noticed the b.u.t.ton of an electric bell set on the wall. He pressed it and I heard the bell ring faintly beyond the oaken door.

The bolts shot back and the two constables came back in.

"Take him through to the cells," Daly ordered, and the constables hesitated. I guessed they were strangers to this type of operation.

"Come on," snapped Daly, and they stepped up on either side of me.

Wally laid a hand lightly on my injured arm, and I allowed myself to be led forward towards the cells and Daly.

I wanted to have a chance at him, just one chance. "How's your mom, Wally? I asked casually.

"She's all right, Mister Harry," he muttered embarra.s.sedly.

"She get the present I sent up for her birthday?"

"Yeah, she got it." He was distracted as I intended.

We had come level, with Daly. he was standing by the doorway to the cells, waiting for us to go through, slapping the malacca, swagger stick against his thigh.

The constables were holding me respectfully, loosely, unsure of themselves, and I stepped to one side pushing Wally slightly off balance - then I spun back, breaking free.

Not one of them was ready for it, and I covered the three paces to Daly before they had realized what I was doing - and I put my right knee into him with my full body weight behind it. It thumped into the crotch of his legs, a marvellously solid blow. Whatever the price I was going to have to pay for the pleasure, it was cheap.

Daly was lifted off his feet, a full eighteen inches in the air, and he flew backwards to crash against the bars. Then he doubled up, both hands pressed into his lower body, screaming thinly - a sound like steam from a boiling kettle. As he went over I lined up for another shot at his face, I wanted to take his teeth out with a kick in the mouth - but the constables recovered their wits and leaped forward to drag me away. They were rough now, twisting the arm.

"You didn't ought to do that, Mister Harry," Wally shouted angrily. His fingers bit into my bicep and I gritted my teeth.

"The President himself cleared me, Wally. You know that," I shouted back at him, and Daly straightened up, his face twisted with agony, still holding himself.

"This is a frame up." I knew I had only a few seconds to talk, Daly was reeling towards me, brandishing the swagger stick, his mouth wide open as he tried to find his voice.

"If he gets me in that cell he's going to kill me Wally!"

"Shut up!" screeched Daly.

"He wouldnt dare try this if the President---2 "Shut up! Shut up!" He swung the swagger stick, a side, arm cut, that hissed like a cobra. He had gone for my wounds deliberately, and the supple cane snapped around me like a pistol shot.

The pain of it was beyond belief, and I convulsed, bucking involuntarily in their grip. They held me.

"Shut up!" Daly was hysterical with pain and rage. He swung again, and the cane cut deeply into half-healed flesh. This time I screamed.

"I'll kill you, you b.a.s.t.a.r.d." Daly staggered back, still hunched with pain, and he fumbled with his holstered pistol.

What I had hoped for now happened. Wally released me and jumped forward.

No," he shouted. "Not that."

He towered over Daly's slim crouching form and with one ma.s.sive brown hand he blocked Daly's draw.

"Get out of my way. That's an order," shouted Daly, but Wally unclipped. the lanyard from the pistol's b.u.t.t and disarmed him, stepping back with the pistol in his hand.

"I'll break you for this," snarled Daly. "It's your duty-"

"I know my duty, Inspector," Wally spoke with a simple dignity, "and it's not to murder prisoners." Then he turned to me. "Mister Harry, you'd best get out of here."

"You're freeing a prisoner-" Daly gasped. "Man, I'm going to break you."

"Didn't see no warrant," Wally cut in. "Soon as the President signs a warrant, we'll fetch Mister Harry right back in again."

"You black b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Daly panted at him, and Wally turned to me.

"Get!"he said. "Quickly."