‘Why did Salton have a heart attack?’ I asked.

Her mood was angry and she snapped at me. ‘Oh, for God’s sake, can’t you just let it alone?’

‘I think Jill has a right to know. And besides, what difference will telling us make now?’

‘All right, Kemp, you win. You want to know the whole goddamn story, well here it is. Salton turned up while we were doing a dry run. We’d got everything figured – number of packages, weights and everything – and we practised like hell, because everything has to run real slick. We didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, watching and listening. Time enough, I guess, because the crazy fool came right out and asked us what we thought we were doing. Les Philips told him straight and the old guy’s heart went pop, right there and then. Next thing we knew, he was lying on the ground. That clear enough for you?’

Nobody said anything because there didn’t seem much to say, and there was another long silence. I looked past Bette Haslam at the body of Negrini – a bundle of rags casually tossed into the bushes outside the window.

Presently I said, ‘I think you’ve made a mistake. A big mistake.’

The look of triumph left her face. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘The man you shot – out there. Do you know who he was?’

‘No. And I don’t care.’

‘You’d better care. Ever heard of Mr Black?’

‘Sure, everyone’s heard of …’ She stopped. ‘You’re saying that’s … I don’t believe you.’

‘That’s Gerry Negrini,’ I said. ‘And you’ve killed him. Shot him stone cold dead. You know who he was, of course, who was behind him? Chicago and New York, I understand. The Syndicate doesn’t like it when their operations are interfered with by small-time killers. What are you going to do when the Families get after you?’

‘What the hell would Negrini be doing at El Cerco?’

‘Minding his own business, I suppose. He and David Salton got on very well together. Isn’t that right, Mrs Salton?’

‘They were great friends,’ Jill said in a low voice.

‘In fact, Negrini contributed to Salton’s political fighting fund,’ I said. ‘They were that close. And now you’ve killed him. It’s possible you might escape the police, though I doubt it. But even if you do, I wouldn’t give tuppence for your chances. You see, the police need evidence that will stand up in court, but the Families don’t work that way. They don’t give a damn about that sort of evidence.’

‘What are you trying to do, Kemp?’ Bette’s voice was suddenly shaky.