Then she flung the gun smack into Lucy's face, leapt down and sideways, coming up under the parasol. In seconds she had paralysed that arm and pulled the parasol away. Lucy Padrack's eyes went wild. She screamed horribly, then, cursing and screaming, ran out into the moonlight. April snatched up her gun and raced after her. She saw the howling mob of islanders before Lucy realized they were there.

Lucy ran headlong into them. They closed around her in a milling press, shovels and whips waving and flaying. Soon, a tattered doll that once was Lucy Padrack was thrown high above their heads — to fall, lifeless, and disappear.

April faced the approaching islanders, gun poised.

"Back — get back!" She fired at the ground in front of them.

The leaders halted, wide-eyed. The others slowed behind them.

"That's it," said April. "Quiet, now — stay there." A voice called: "Okay, Miss Dancer, they won't hurt you. They're on our side!"

"You could have fooled me. Hey! Is that you, Randy Kovac?"

The four of them came out of the darkness. The islanders slowly moved aside, very quiet now, almost ashamed. They left a trampled clearing on which sprawled the remains of Lucy Padrack.

Count Kazan said: "I would not care to be the judge who has to decide who holds the greater guilt. We are told she personally killed three islanders with a parasol. I do not understand how, but…"

"I know how," said April. "Why?"

Kazan shrugged. "They were happily married."

"Ah!" said April. "And she..."

"So the little Hiho has just told me."

April said: "Sama and Randy — go help Mark." They ran into the building as a group of men pounded from the rear of it, all armed, a white-coated figure leading them, a gun in each hand.

"Oh no!" April exclaimed. "Who asked you to get in on the act?"

"At your service, miss," said Chas. "We heard gunfire so we came running."

Kazan said: "You were nearly dead."

"Yes," said April. "You took a chance, Chas."

He moved across to the islanders. A number of them dropped to their knees. Chas spoke to them quietly. Then they gathered up Lucy Padrack and marched slowly away down the valley.

Chas said: "You have no authority on this island. It is under the magisterial jurisdiction of my father. I am a sworn officer of his court. You will please surrender your guns."

"Now, look, Chas — don't come the old blarney with me..."

Chas turned to his men. "If I am attacked — Shoot to kill." He came to April, held out his hand. "There'll be no more killing or shooting on Taradata, Miss Dancer." Then speaking more quietly in his cockney voice, continued:

"Don't be a flippin' mug, girlie — I can make what you've done all nice and legal. If I don't, them Palagas — and me old Daddy, bless him — will stick you and your mates in the clink and keep you there 'til your teeth fall out."

April sighed, handed over her gun. She smiled at Kazan.

"Mr. Fix-it — island style. Do as the gent says."

Kazan shrugged again. "You're the boss."

Chas took the guns. "Is she now? Well, well! Seems you're a more important girlie than I thought. I never fancied working for a woman."

April said sweetly: "No, not one — at least four or five."

"Nasty," said Chas. "Not nice. Let's not get personal. Now — what's going on in there?"

Soon after Chas entered the building, all the lights went out. Cheval tried to escape. Padrack did get clear, then suddenly fainted — possibly from loss of blood. Moonlight was now brilliant so the lighting was not really necessary. It came on after a while.

Mark thought he'd call Chas's bluff, even though April had accepted the position. Chas then produced a police card, showing him truly to be an officer of the court of jurisdiction. A strange man, full of strange twists, but a local power. All the islanders respected him. So did Chief Kuala, who marched in with his headmen. April, Mark and their companions fumed as Chas and the chief exchanged flowery greetings. Under cover of this long-winded powwow, Mark whispered an idea to April. They passed it on to the others. Chas's seamen had taken charge of the wounded Padrack, but had left only one man to guard Cheval.

April chatted up this seaman, asking him questions about the wonderful Chas and gushing over him, drawing the man farther away from Cheval. When he glanced around, Cheval had gone. So had Kazan and Lars Carlson.

"It's all right," said April, patting the man's shoulder. "Chas told us to take him to the ship. You'll be having a whoop-up tonight, huh? Lots of dancing, drinking — I come? You like me to come?" She beckoned Sama Paru, whispered: "Get going. Contact the launch. Rendezvous with it. Surface and take off Cheval. Then go full speed for Mr. Waverly. Hand Cheval over. The charge is complicity in murder, inciting a riot — anything you like — but break Cheval."

Sama and Randy departed.

Mark had wandered into the building. April followed him.

"They're all congratulating each other," said Mark. "Kuala's men are going to fire the workshops. April, me old darling — there's something we've missed out on. Why did we lose control? Even allowing for the Lucy fiasco, we could have handled it."

"Chas," said April. "That Chas! He had tabs on how things were going. Must have done. Then he shows up smack at the moment when he could say we weren't in control." She stormed through the laboratory, crunching broken glass, slamming aside chairs. She stood staring at the rifled filing cabinet, the clipboard with shreds of torn paper jammed under the metal. Then glared back at Mark.

"You?"

"No. I aimed to get in here, but couldn't leave Cheval and Padrack."

April looked through the window as flames streaked up in wild-searing tongues of fire. Kuala and his headmen and other islanders were gone. Chas was directing his seamen to carry Padrack to the ship. He told others to collect Lodori's body. All was quiet as he came to them, smiling. They smiled back at him.

"Kuala and his people will never forget what you have done," said Chas.

"I'm sure they won't." April still smiled.

Mark wandered about casually. "No more little boats — no more lush pickings, eh, Chas?"

Chas shrugged. "Money ain't everything, y'know. These are simple, happy people. They got a right to live their own lives."

"Oh, sure, sure!" Mark suddenly leapt from behind, pinioning Chas's arms and fixing a garotte hold on his throat. "Methinks you are a very crafty little man."

April sprang forward, searched with swift, expert actions, and pulled folded papers from inside Chas's shirt.

"How did you know they'd be there, Chas?" She flicked his nose with the papers.

Chas laughed in her face. A slightly strangled laugh. Mark eased his hold, then released Chas and stood back. Chas massaged his throat.

"You're the clever ones," he said. "You tell me. But don't forget I got a right to take anything I want as evidence."

April laughed softly. "Anything? With a whole row of files to choose from?" She glanced at the papers as she spoke. "You choose the latest and probably most important ones. The final analysis and the final tests."

Mark rattled a metal tray containing empty phials. "On these? Oh, Granny, what quick eyes you've got! They only arrived this morning."

"You ain't the only ones with a little brain," said Chas. "Very cocky, you youngsters these days."