"How much money have you got on you?"

"I don't really know. A couple of hundred bucks, maybe."

"You might need more. There's no knowing where he might go." I took a cash voucher from the desk, scribbled a figure and added my signature.

"The cashier will honour this."

Walker took the slip and gave a low whistle.

"Five thousand dollars!"

"He might be flying to Europe, damn it! Ask for American dollars or you might be stuck with Bahamian."

"If I'm going to tail the guy I'd better not join that line at the desk," he said.

"True. Stay here until Philips comes back. He can get the cash from behind the desk."

We watched the comedy at the cashier's desk. My friend, the phoney doctor, moved up to the counter and presented his room key with a smile. There was a bit of dumb show and then the bill was presented.

He glanced at it, then frowned, prodded at it with his forefinger, and pushed it back across the counter. The cashier made some chat and called over Jack Fletcher who now came into sight.

Walker said, "If he pays by credit card we can trace him through the number."

I nodded. Fletcher was making voluble apologies with much gesturing.

He held up one hand in a placatory manner and disappeared from view.

Two minutes later he walked into the office followed by Philips.

"His name is Carrasco – Dr. Luis Carrasco."

"So he really is a doctor," I commented.

"Nationality?"

"Venezuelan."

"Where is he going?"

"I don't know," said Fletcher.

"I've only spoken to him for about three minutes. He said he had a plane to catch and would I make it short."

"I know where he's going," said Philips.

"He used our inter- hotel booking service. He's flying to Freeport and he's staying at the Royal Palm. He's booked in for a week."

"Damned cheek!" I said, and looked at Carrasco. He was standing at the desk wearing a preoccupied expression and tapping restlessly with his fingers.

"He'll probably be flying Bahamasair," said Fletcher, glancing at his watch.

"There's a flight in an hour."

"He booked a hire car to await him at Freeport International," said Philips.

"One of ours?"

Yes. "

I looked at Walker.

"Can we bug that car? I mean, do we have the facilities handy?"

Walker shook his head.

"No, but we can have Rodriguez in Freeport in under four hours."

"Make the phone call, direct to Billy Cunningham. Tell him it's bloody urgent."

Walker picked up the telephone, and Fletcher said curiously, "What's all this about, Tom?"

"Something that Commissioner Perigord will want to know about." I had made one mistake with Perigord and another was unthinkable.

"What room did Carrasco have?"

Philips said, "Three-one-six."

"Have it locked and sealed. We can get fingerprints." Walker heard that and nodded vigorously. I picked up the voucher which Walker had laid on the desk and tore it up; he would not need that now.

"How long do we keep Carrasco hanging about?" asked Fletcher.

"You can let him go as soon as Walker has finished his call and got a Bahamasair ticket to Freeport." There was a travel agency in the lobby, so I said to Philips, "Get that now and debit it to hotel expenses."

Carrasco had interrupted a transaction between another client and the cashier; he was obviously arguing and was tapping his wristwatch meaningfully. Walker put down the telephone.

"Fixed," he said.

"Rodriguez is coming over in the Jet Star with a bag of gadgets."

The minutes ticked by and Carrasco was becoming increasingly irritable. When I saw Philips walking across the lobby with an air ticket in his hand I said, "Okay, let him go now. Many apologies, and tell him his taxi fare to the airport is on us as compensation for the trouble we've caused him. Do a grovel."

Fletcher shrugged and left as Philips came in and gave Walker the ticket.

"Get a taxi for Mr. Walker and have it standing by," I said, and picked up the telephone to ring Perigord.

As I waited for him to come on the line I saw Jack Fletcher doing his obsequious act in a smarmy manner and I hoped he was not laying it on too thick. He escorted Carrasco to the door and Walker nodded to me and left without saying a word.

I got Perigord and told him what was happening. I said, "I don't want this man alarmed because we haven't got Robinson yet. Carrasco could lead us to him."

"At last you are using the brains you undoubtedly possess," said Perigord, and promised to have a discreet escort awaiting Carrasco at the airport.

I told him that Walker was on the same flight, then said, "One last thing; there'll be an American called Rodriguez coming in on the Cunningham Jet Star later today. I don't want the Customs holding him up by taking a too close interest in his bags. Can you arrange that?"

"Not if he's bringing firearms," said Perigord.

"You know that."

"No firearms my guarantee," I promised.

"He's an electronics expert I'll tell you about him later."

Perigord agreed. I told him I'd be flying back immediately, then hung up and sat at Fletcher's desk and pondered. Was I right? I had seen him only for a matter of seconds, and I had been in a drugged condition at the time. But it had been very close up. Was I right in staking that he was Carrasco? Staking everything on the colour of a man's eyes and the size of his nose?

I thought I was right. The recent painting session with Cassie Cunningham had clarified my mind and etched that face into my mind's eye. But if I was wrong and Perigord laid on an elaborate operation to no good purpose then he would have an even lower opinion of me than ever.

Fletcher came back, and I asked, "What's Carrasco's credit card number?"

"He paid cash. Just dug out his wallet and paid in hundred dollar bills, American. It didn't empty the wallet, either."

"How much was the bill?"

"A little over 1100 dollars. He used the restaurant a lot and his bar bill wasn't small. Then there was the car rental charge."

I leaned back in the chair.

"Jack, you've been in this business quite a time. When was the last time you can remember that a bill like that was paid in cash?"

"It's happened a few times," he said.

"Not many, though. Usually when a man has cleaned up at the casino he gets paid out in cash so he pays his bill in cash. But that's usually in Bahamian dollars."

"I don't think Carrasco is a gambler," I said meditatively "Not that kind, anyway. I'll take a copy of the bill with me." I felt much more confident and happy.

I flew back to Freeport and went to see Perigord immediately He had Inspector Hepburn with him, and he came quickly to the point.

"Tell us more about this man Carrasco."

I did not do that. Instead, I looked at Inspector Hepburn, and asked, "Do you still think this is about cocaine?"

Perigord said, "Yes, we do."

"Well, I don't. Both Kayles and Robinson seemed surprised when I brought up the subject."

"They would," said Hepburn.

"They were not likely to admit it, were they?"

I said, "To my mind their surprise was genuine. It took them aback."

"But we don't have your mind," said Perigord.

"I doubt if you would consider yourself an expert on the way criminals behave when confronted."

I saw I was getting nowhere pursuing that line; their minds were made up.

"What do you want to know about Carrasco?"

"Everything," Perigord said succinctly.

"He kidnapped me from the Cunningham Building," I said.

"And…"

Perigord held up his hand.

"You're sure it's the same man?"

I hesitated.

"Not one hundred per cent, but near enough. I don't trust people who pay large bills in cash." I told them of what had happened and put a copy of the bill on Perigord's desk.