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s open flats and through areas black with thicket； trees； and vines shutting off the sunlight。 The road came into a wide clearing； there was a narrow； packed…dirt airstrip and a tin…roofed shed。 Beyond the strip； at the fringe of the deeper jungle； was a farmhouse。 A black man in dungarees stood there watching the thing that had e from the sky。 That didn't happen often on Coquina。
Moore turned onto the airstrip and pulled up alongside the plane。 Some sort of symbol was painted on the craft's side； a white circle with the letters JHF in white at its center。 He could see movement in the cockpit； a figure in a tan jumpsuit pulled at a duffel bag wedged between two seats。 Moore climbed out of the truck and approached the open cockpit door。 〃Can I give you a hand？〃
〃Yes；〃 the pilot said； working the bag free and hefting it over the side to Moore。 〃Take this bloody thing。 But be careful； there's expensive camera gear inside。〃
Moore caught the heavy bag； but stood braced at the cockpit doorway staring。
The pilot was a young woman； her hair pinned up in a cap but a single curl of gold showing at the neck。 He had just caught a glimpse of her profile as she turned to give him the bag。 She lifted a suitcase and very carefully laid it outside the cockpit as Moore stepped back to give her room。 She glanced up； appraising him with her clear gray eyes； and offered her hand。 〃Jana Thornton；〃 she said； Moore shook her hand and started to speak； but she turned away again for a smaller suitcase on the co…pilot's seat。 She put it down on the ground and went on； 〃I wasn't expecting a weling party。 I couldn't raise a wireless signal； but if I've plotted correctly this has to be Coquina。〃
〃It is。〃
〃Then I'm where I want to be。〃 She turned to look down the rutted； pot…holed airstrip。 〃I don't expect you have many mercial flights here； do you？〃
〃No；〃 Moore agreed。 〃We're not exactly a tourist mecca。〃
She nodded thoughtfully； returning to the cockpit and emerging again with a few bricks； which she placed as stops against the plane's tires。 Moore carried the bags to his truck and then turned back to her。 〃What's the JHF stand for？〃
〃Jamaica Historic Foundation；〃 she said； straightening up。 She closed the cockpit door and locked it。 〃Will my plane be safe out here？〃
〃We haven't lost any so far。〃
〃I really didn't expect anyone to be meeting me；〃 she laughed as they climbed into the truck's cab。 〃But I appreciate the ride； Mr。…？〃
〃David Moore。〃 He started the engine and they began to move along the strip。 〃You would have had a long hike into the village。〃
He glanced across at her as they reached the jungle road。 It had been a long time since he'd seen a white woman as attractive as she was。 She wore very little makeup and didn't really need any； she was a natural beauty with high cheekbones and forehead and a striking facial structure； she was perhaps in her late twenties。 Her hair was tucked underneath the cap； of course； but he envisioned it as falling to just about shoulder length。 Her skin was deeply tanned； as if she spent a lot of time outdoors； the sun had deepened laugh…lines around her eyes and mouth。 She had the hands of a man； toughened and callused。 There was a simple gold chain around her neck； and she wore no rings。 Moore had seen a look of energy and intelligence； perhaps also of caution in her eyes。 They were calm now； and steady； but Moore thought they could probably cut like a heated scalpel when she was angry。
〃Where have you e from？〃 he asked her。 〃Kingston？〃
〃That's right。〃
〃Isn't it dangerous flying alone like that？〃
She smiled slightly； as if the question was one she heard often。 〃Not if you know what you're doing。 And I do。 There's an interesting reef out beyond your harbor。 Do you know anything about those two steamer wrecks to the south？〃
〃I've dived them；〃 he said。 〃They're in about sixty feet； but only the stern's left of one and the keel of the other。〃 Moore paused for a few seconds。 〃You're pretty good to recognize them as steamers from the air。〃
〃I know that type of wreck；〃 she said。 〃And there are objects lying near them that could only be broken steamship funnels。〃
〃What are you doing on Coquina？〃 Moore asked； fascinated with his passenger。 〃And what's your Foundation do； anyway？〃
〃I'm here to find the island's constable。 As to the Foundation； we're a research group in alliance with the British Museum。〃
〃I see。 Then you're here because of the U…boat。〃
She glanced over at him and nodded。 〃Let's say I'm here to investigate something the Foundation doesn't understand。 There was a story in the Jamaica Daily Gleaner about a submarine hulk surfacing。 We contacted the man who reported it…a mail…boat captain…who turned out to be sixty…eight years old and somewhat less than an expert。 I'm reserving judgment as to whether what's surfaced off your island actually is an authentic World War II relic。〃
Moore looked at her and noticed her eyes were suspicious and questing； like a cat's。 〃You can see for yourself。〃
〃I plan to。〃
They came off the jungle road； turned on Back Street； and drove toward the center of the village。 The Square was now pletely deserted； and Moore saw that Kip's jeep was still gone from its usual place in front of his office。
〃I don't think the constable's in right now；〃 he said。 He motioned toward the grocery store。 〃There's a café over there if you'd like something to eat while you wait。〃
〃I can do with some lunch；〃 she acknowledged； and Moore pulled the truck to the curb。
Everybody's Grocers and Cafe was a small stucco building painted a bright mustard yellow； the store was at the front； the cafe was a scattering of tables near a kitchen at the rear。 When they sat down； the rotund cook protested that she was leaving soon to go home； but Moore talked her into making lunch for them。 He asked for two orders of seafood bouillabaisse and coffee。
〃Is it Miss or Mrs。 Thornton？〃 he asked her casually after they'd seated themselves。
She extracted a cigarette from a pack of Players and lit it without waiting for him to find a match。 〃It's Dr。 Thornton；〃 she said coolly。
〃Oh？ A doctor of what？〃
〃A professor；〃 she corrected。 〃I'm a marine archaeologist； specializing in the study of sunken wrecks。〃
〃Sounds interesting。〃
〃It is。〃 She tapped ash off her cigarette。 She looked up； examining his eyes for a few seconds。 She could see intensity in this man's tanned； weather…lined face。 The eyes were strange； very blue； warm and yet distant at the same time。 There was curiosity and strength； but something dark and disturbing as well； lying deep inside。 Then she saw it vanish like the briefest of passing shadows。
〃What about you？〃 she asked； at last。 〃What are you doing here？〃
〃I own the Indigo Inn。 The hotel at the top of the hill。〃
〃Ah； yes。 I saw it from the air。〃 She tilted her chin and exhaled smoke。 〃I wouldn't think you would attract many guests。〃
〃Not during hurricane season； no。 But when the good breezes are blowing we get a few yachtsmen passing through。 And I enjoy the life。 It's not a bad way to pass the time。〃
〃I want to know abo