‘That’s the next thing on the agenda,’ I said, and looked over at the settee. Although Jill seemed all right on the outside, I was pessimistic about internal damage. A bullet carries a lot of energy, which must be dissipated before it stops. That bullet had stopped inside Jill, which didn’t augur well. And where was I supposed to find a doctor? The only medic I knew on Campanilla was McKittrick, and he was in San Martin playing politics.

I went over to where John was hovering over Leotta. Even in the gathering darkness I could see that she looked better, and every sip of the hot, sweet liquid helped to put the pieces back together again. John said, ‘I thought you might find this useful, sir.’ He took a flashlamp from the tea tray and handed it to me.

‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I can use it.’

I went outside to the quay and looked out to the mainland. There were a couple of lights and everything appeared ordinary. One thing was certain: no one on the mainland could see me, so it was safe to move around. I climbed aboard Negrini’s boat. Although the radio was smashed, I thought I might be able to put Jill aboard and take her somewhere safe, running the engines slow to keep the motion easy.

It was hopeless. Even as I ducked into the cabin I caught the acrid and dangerous stink of petrol. It was so strong that I knew any attempt to start the engines would send the boat up like a bomb. Philips had not only wrecked the radio but he’d done something to the fuel system. I doubted if he’d holed the tanks, but the fuel lines were probably ruptured. There’d be enough petrol slopping around in the bilges to blow the boat into matchwood.

I went back on the quay and looked at the other boat, the one in which the reinforcement had arrived. It was then I realised I didn’t even know who I had killed – was it Steve or Terry?

The boat was small, about nine feet long, and with a four-horse pusher at the stern. To take a thing like that to sea at night carrying a badly injured woman would be an act of madness. I didn’t know the waters, I didn’t even know if I could negotiate the pass through the coral and, if we got outside, those long Atlantic trade wind rollers were too much to face at night in a small open boat.