White’s face closed up. ‘Questions! What about?’

‘Suppose you show me Mr Salton’s boat – the one he was found in. It’s here, isn’t it?’

‘In the boathouse. This way.’ White led the way to the boathouse and we went inside. There was a big cabin cruiser about forty feet long and equipped for game fishing, there was a thirty-foot sailing boat with the mast unstepped, and there were three dinghies. White pointed. ‘That’s the one – the Flying Fifteen.’

It didn’t look to me as though it could fly but then I know nothing about dinghies. Hanna said, ‘How did it get back here from San Martin?’

‘Mrs Salton told me to go over and sail her back round after the police had finished with her,’ said White.

‘That must have been about ten days ago.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And when did you last see it before that?’ asked Hanna. His voice was casual.

‘I …’ White stopped and started again. ‘That was before Mr Salton took her out.’

Hanna took out a notebook and a pen. ‘The date?’

White’s face wore a hunted look. ‘That’s not easy, sir. It was a while ago.’

‘All right, tell me this. When did Mr Salton disappear?’

‘I don’t know, sir. Not really. It was all a mix-up, wasn’t it?’

‘You must have read the papers,’ said Hanna. ‘Didn’t you see the account of the inquest?’ White stood mute, so Hanna said, ‘According to Mrs Salton’s evidence, he disappeared on the ninth of January at about eleven in the morning. You read about that, didn’t you?’

‘No, sir.’

Hanna frowned. ‘You didn’t? Weren’t you interested? Your boss dies in a strange way and you weren’t interested enough to wonder how it happened? I find that hard to believe, especially since it was your job to look after the boat in which he was found.’

‘I may have read it,’ said White sullenly. ‘I’ve forgotten.’

Hanna said gently, ‘Are you afraid of something, Mr White? You’ve no need to be afraid if you tell the truth. But you have every reason to be afraid if you lie to me. Now, I’m going to ask you a straight question and I want a straight answer. When did you last see that boat before you brought it back from San Martin?’

White shuffled his feet and said in a low voice, ‘On the tenth. Early morning.’

‘Speak up,’ said Hanna. His voice was a whiplash. ‘I didn’t hear that.’

‘All right,’ said White. ‘I saw her on the morning of the tenth of January, about three in the morning.’

‘Where was the boat?’

‘Here, right where she’s lying now.’

‘And what were you doing down here at three in the morning?’