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retrieved Charmian’s bag, picked up the knife and dropped it into the well. ‘ Adios ,’ he said finally and walked back down the alley towards the main street.
    He found Charmian at the other end, standing in the middle of the road calling out his name. James waved and called back.
    ‘James, that was very reckless,’ said Charmian when she saw him. ‘That boy could have killed you.’
    ‘I know,’ said James. ‘I didn’t think. I got your bag back, though. Everything’s still in it, but you’ll need new straps.’
    ‘I should have been more careful,’ said Charmian. ‘I shall have to replace them with thin chains, then they’ll be harder to cut.’
    James saw Charmian’s eyes go suddenly wide and fearful. She had seen something behind him. He spun round to see Angel tearing out of the mouth of the alley, the knife once more in his hand.
    Hell. He should have checked. The well obviously wasn’t as deep as he had imagined.
    But the next moment there was a commotion as two burly men in suits grabbed hold of the boy. They both had moustaches and one was holding a pistol.
    Angel struggled, but the man pressed the pistol into his face and he calmed down. They said something quickly to him in Spanish; the only words James could understand were the boy’s name.
    The second man took the knife and snapped a pair of handcuffs on Angel.
    As the two men dragged him away they stopped briefly by Charmian and the one with the gun bowed.
    ‘Good afternoon, señora ,’ he said. ‘I am sorry about this unfortunate incident. The boy is known to us. We have been trying to catch him at his games for many weeks now. We lock him up, señora . You come in the morning to the police station and make a statement, yes?’
    ‘Yes, of course.’ Charmian smiled politely and watched as the men dragged the struggling boy away down the street.
    As they went, they had to push past a group of tourists, four Americans and a Japanese. They pointed at Angel.
    ‘Give ’em hell, kid,’ one of them shouted, a short slab of a man who was almost as wide as he was tall, with no neck and a big square head.
    ‘Whatzat?’ said one of the others, who was as bony as his friend was solid.
    ‘I said, “Give ’em hell.” ’ The squat man repeated loudly.
    ‘That’s right,’ said his friend, and they all laughed.
    All except the one woman who was with them, a beautiful blonde wearing a wide-brimmed hat.
    ‘Come along,’ said Charmian, taking James by the elbow. ‘I have no intention of going to make a statement in the morning. For one, I fully intend to be a hundred miles away by then and, for two, the less we have to do with the local police the better. I know that boy did try to rob me and probably tried to kill you, but I’m afraid I do feel rather sorry for him. The police do not have a good reputation.’
    Just then there was a rumble of thunder and the heavens fully opened, pouring down a torrent of rain into the dusty street.
    ‘We should hurry,’ Charmian yelled. ‘Or we shall be drowned.’
    In his haste to escape the rain James quickly forgot about Angel Corona and the five tourists.
    He could have had no idea what part they were all going to play in his life.

4
    A Broken Doll
     
    The Stones’ house stood alone on the west side of Tres Hermanas, on a high rise of land, looking out over the houses and the pink-tiled rooftop of the church of Santa Maria towards the sea. It had been built as a palace for a local aristocrat, and designed by an imported French architect in neoclassical style, with pillars and balconies and ornate carved stonework decorating every surface.
    ‘I met Jack Stone in Texas about ten years ago,’ Charmian shouted over the noise of the pounding rain. ‘At an air show. He was quite famous then. A war hero. Fighter pilot. Very dashing. I think you’ll like him.’
    A servant met James and Charmian at the wide, wrought-iron gate and led them up the gravel driveway. There was a huge avocado tree and a