He shook his head. ‘I don’t know. And now there’s just been a call for me to tell me that Jake wants to see me at his home immediately.’

‘From anyone you know?’

‘A stranger, sir.’ His seamed face was puzzled. ‘And I know Jake is in San Martin today.’

‘That’s odd,’ said Negrini.

I felt a prickling unease and I had the overpowering feeling that something had escaped me. Abruptly I stood up. ‘Let’s check the telephone.’

We went into the hall and I picked up the handset. Not a cheep came through and the line seemed dead. I turned to John. ‘How does this work? Is it a direct line?’

‘No, sir. The estate exchange is on the mainland.’

Negrini said, ‘Have you told Mrs Salton about this?’

‘No,’ said John. ‘Not yet.’

Suddenly the sound of a jet engine winding up came keening across the water from the mainland and something exploded in my head. I grabbed Negrini’s arm.

‘Gerry, what did you tell me about Salton’s plane leaving Benning Airport the day he disappeared?’

‘It took off for New York,’ he said.

‘What time?’

‘Eight in the evening.’

‘For Christ’s sake!’ I said. ‘I was muzzy when you told me and it slipped by. The plane left here at eleven in the morning.’

‘So?’

‘So what the hell was the crew doing during those nine hours?’

Negrini frowned. ‘Is it important?’

‘And what was Mrs Haslam doing taking out the dinghy at four the next morning?’

‘Who the hell is Mrs Haslam?’

‘The pilot’s wife.’ I stared at the silent telephone. ‘Calls coming in, none going out. People being drawn off this island. I have a feeling we’re being isolated.’

‘We are?’ queried Negrini. ‘But nobody knows we’re here.’

‘All right then, Jill Salton’s being isolated.’ I bit my lip. ‘I don’t like this.’

Negrini said softly, ‘That little guy who lives in your head?’

‘Yes.’ The jet engine howled again. ‘And what are they doing over there on the airstrip? Jill isn’t going anywhere in the plane, and they can’t be testing it all the time.’ I shook my head irritably. ‘I wonder if there are any weapons in the house.’

‘Sure,’ said Negrini. His hand dipped inside his jacket and emerged full of automatic pistol. ‘It’s a habit,’ he said, a little apologetically. He put the gun away. ‘But we’re not isolated.’

‘The bloody telephone’s not working.’

‘The hell with that,’ said Negrini. ‘There’s a radio telephone in the boat. We can call anyone we want.’

‘Then I want to call Hanna.’

We left the hall, leaving John staring after us, and went back to the quay where the boat was moored. Another boat had just pulled in behind and Mrs Haslam was stepping ashore. She came towards us and the first thing I noticed was a gun held negligently at her side.