As I waited I stared at McKittrick, who was still slumped in the chair gazing into space. I looked around the room. Lena McKittrick was finishing her beer but there was no sign of Hawke. ‘Where’s Joe?’

She put down the glass. ‘He’s gone.’ She smiled slightly. ‘He’s got work to do.’

‘I’ll bet he has,’ I said. ‘The revolution must go on.’ I wondered how he’d use this latest development.

Lena looked at her husband. ‘At least he does something.’ Was that a touch of contempt in her voice?

Hanna came back on the line. ‘There’s nothing in the report about White being questioned. Looks like Barstow botched it. Is that patrolman still with you?’

‘Yes. I’m not sure why, though.’

‘To stop you getting your head blown off,’ said Hanna irritably. ‘I told you to let me know where you were every minute of the day. You didn’t tell me you were going to the McKittrick place.’

‘It came up suddenly,’ I said.

‘What are you going to do now?’

‘I think I’ll go back to El Cerco.’

‘I’ll meet you there,’ said Hanna. ‘But don’t do a damn thing until I see you. Especially don’t talk about this to anyone. That goes for McKittrick and Hawke, too.’

‘Hawke isn’t here,’ I said. ‘Apparently he had business to attend to.’

‘Christ!’ said Hanna. ‘More trouble. Something interesting has happened here. I’ll tell you about it when I see you.’ He hung up.

I put down the telephone and said, ‘Superintendent Hanna wants you to keep quiet about this, at least until he’s had a chance to see what White has to say.’

McKittrick stirred. ‘Sure. Don’t cause trouble, keep the temperature down. That’s all the police think of.’

I said, ‘I don’t understand you, McKittrick – or Hawke, either. As far as I can see, you Campanillans have got it made. Independence without any conditions, a booming economy with few legal restrictions, and an island paradise to enjoy it all. So what’s Hawke doing, trying to stir up revolution? Is it just a hangover from his Black Power days in the States?’

‘You don’t know much about us, do you?’ McKittrick stood up. ‘Let me show you something.’

I followed him out of the house. The police patrolman sat astride his cycle a little way down the road; he appeared to be manicuring his nails. When we came out of the house he put away the file and laid his hands on the controls in readiness for a quick start. McKittrick ignored him and pointed across the valley. ‘See that house there?’