35

Holly and her group were sitting on their patio having breakfast when Thomas Hardy arrived and pulled up a chair.

“Colonel Croft is dead,” he said.

Holly reacted with surprise, but she was not displeased. “Oh, good,” she said. “Now we can rip out those fucking bugs.”

“I suppose so,” Thomas said. “His people will be in such disarray that they probably won’t even be listening.”

“How did he die?” Stone asked.

“There is a courtyard at the police station, and word is, he was sitting on a bench there, talking to a man named Tiptree from the American embassy, when his head exploded. No one heard a gunshot.”

“Single shot from a silenced rifle, explosive-tipped bullet,” Dino said, matter-of-factly.

“Could be, I suppose,” Thomas replied.

Holly was staring out to sea, an amazed expression on her face. “It’s Teddy,” she said.

“What?”

“It’s Teddy Fay; this sort of thing is his specialty.”

“This is the man you came here to find?”

“Yes.”

“But why would he shoot Colonel Croft?”

“I can’t go into that,” Holly replied. She stood up. “Will you excuse me? I have to make a phone call; I think our work here is done, Stone. We can go home today, if they can send an airplane.”

“Just a minute,” Thomas said. “You’re not going anywhere today, and maybe not for several days.”

“What?” she asked.

“The airport is closed; the prime minister is furious about Croft, and he is determined that whoever killed him is not going to get off the island, which means nobody else is, either. The airport is closed.”

“Oh, shit,” Holly said. “No reflection on your lovely inn, Thomas, but I’m ready to get out of here. I miss my dog.”

“I can understand that,” Thomas replied, “but be assured, you are welcome to stay on here for as long as this takes.”

“Excuse me,” Holly said again, then left. She went into the cottage, got her satphone from the safe and went out back, dialing Lance’s direct number.

“Lance Cabot.”

“It’s Holly; shall we scramble?”

“Yes, please.” There was a click on the line. “How’s this?”

“Fine. There has been a major uproar here.”

“What’s happened?”

“Colonel Croft was shot this morning by a sniper with a silenced weapon; he’s dead.”

There was a stunned silence. “I’m going to have to get back to you,” Lance said, and hung up.

Holly stared at the phone in her hand. “What the hell kind of reaction was that?” she said aloud.

Lance hung up the phone and looked across his desk at Hugh English, who had turned a funny color. “I’m sorry, Hugh, please go on.”

“As I was saying, Lance,” English said with elaborate courtesy, “it appears that you have co-opted an agent of mine, the result of which is that he has been arrested and is probably being tortured by that animal Croft.”

“Hugh, the director has already spoken to you about this.”

“Right, and now I am speaking to you about it.”

“Hugh…”

“What in God’s name was he doing for you that would result in his arrest?”

“Hugh, he was simply retrieving some documents from the St. Marks government computers, something I understand he’s been doing for months. The fact that he was doing it for me had nothing to do with his arrest.”

English suddenly jumped and grabbed the vibrating cell phone on his belt. “Yes?” His face slowly grew more astonished as he listened. “Why?” he demanded. “Are you perfectly serious about this? I’ll get the ambassador on it right away, and I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up. “That was Bill Pepper; Jim Tiptree went to the jail and effected the release of Bill and his wife, but now the police are holding Jim.”

“Why on earth would they do that?” Lance asked.

“Apparently, Jim was sitting on a park bench, talking with Colonel Croft, when his head exploded.”

“Single shot with an explosive-tipped bullet,” Lance mused.

“Yes, but the St. Marks police haven’t figured that out yet, and they’re holding Jim while they mull it over. I have to go back to my office and call the ambassador,” English said, standing. “Lance, did you have anything to do with Croft’s assassination?”

“Nothing whatever, Hugh; I give you my word. I certainly wouldn’t have done such a thing while he was sitting next to your station head, and I don’t have anyone on the island who could do it.”

“I’ll speak to you later,” English said, and it sounded like a promise.

Holly’s satphone rang. “Yes?”

“Scramble.”

Holly did so. “Okay.”

“I’ve just heard about Croft’s death in some detail. Apparently, Jim Tiptree, our station head down there, was sitting next to him when it happened. Of course, you didn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Of course not; Teddy Fay did it.”

“What?”

“It’s practically his trademark, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes, but what possible motive would Teddy have for killing Croft?”

“From what I’ve heard, anybody on the run who wants to live on this island and not be found has to pay off Croft. Maybe Teddy didn’t like him, or maybe he just did it on a whim, who knows?”

“I’ve got to have time to figure this out,” Lance said, “but it’s just as well you’re being picked up tomorrow. I’m sending a larger airplane, and Bill Pepper and his wife are coming back with you.”

“No,” Holly said.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“Sir Winston Sutherland has shut down the island; nobody leaves, maybe for days, while Croft’s death is investigated, so you may as well cancel the airplane.”

“Swell,” Lance said.

“Yeah, well…Do I have your permission to get in touch with Bill Pepper?”

“For what?”

“I want to find out if he got those housing applications of Robertson, Pemberton and Weatherby. They could help us identify Teddy.”

“I suppose so. All right, go ahead and call him on his satphone. He should be home by now.”

“He’s been released?”

“Yes, but they’re holding Jim Tiptree; it’s a huge mess, and we’re trying to sort it out now. Let me know if you’re sending the photos.”

“All right; good-bye.” Holly hung up and called Bill Pepper’s number. No answer. She went back to the patio. “Stone, can I have the car keys?”

Stone handed them to her. “Where are you going?”

“Where we were last night,” she said.

“Hang on, I’m going with you.”

36

Lance presented himself in the director’s office for the second time that morning.

“Now what, Lance?”

“There’s a bit of a flap in St. Marks.”

Kate Lee massaged her temples. “Oh, God.”

“Let me explain what’s happened.” Lance gave her the rundown on Croft’s murder and Tiptree’s detention.

“What a mess,” Kate said.

“It gets worse,” Lance replied. “Holly Barker thinks Teddy Fay did it.”

“I’m sorry, my mind just boggled; I’m unable to follow her logic.”

“She may have a point. First, Croft was shot in the head with an exploding bullet, apparently from outside the Markstown jail building, an expert shot, and that sounds like Teddy. Second, Holly points out that anyone hiding on the island would have to bribe Croft to remain safe, and that’s a motive for Teddy.”

“Could Teddy know about Bill and Annie Pepper’s arrest?”

“I don’t see how he could.”

“I can see him being angry with Croft, if he knew.”

“If Holly is right, then that settles the question of whether Teddy is on the island. Now we have to find him.”

“You want to keep Holly there longer?”

“No, but I don’t have a choice. Sutherland has shut down all transportation from the island; nobody can leave until he says so. If we tried to bring some sort of pressure to allow Holly and her group to leave, it might bring suspicion to bear on her.”