Текст книги "The Silver Stain"

Автор книги: Paul Johnston

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 18 страниц)

EIGHTEEN

As it turned out, Niki didn’t give him a hard time.

‘Still busy?’ she asked pleasantly.

‘Even more than before,’ Mavros replied, fingering the dressing on his neck. When she saw that, he’d get several earfuls. ‘But I hope to be home in a day or two.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Niki said. ‘I’m busy too.’

‘Everything all right?’ he asked, remembering how disaffected she’d been.

‘Oh, the usual stuff, but I can cope. See you soon, my love.’

To his surprise, she rang off. He looked at the phone and tried to work out what lay beneath her strangely buoyant tone, then gave up. He swallowed a couple more of the painkillers, had a shower with a towel round his neck, and collapsed into a dreamless sleep. .

. . until the early dawn, when he heard the bell of a nearby church and found himself in the limbo between wakefulness and oblivion. Faces flickered before him – David Waggoner’s with its craggy features; Rudolf Kersten’s contorted death mask; Hildegard’s soft skin; and his father, eyes flashing and lips set in an unmoving smile. Then Waggoner reappeared, leaning forward avidly as he had been when he was with Tryfon Roufos in the taverna. Waggoner, that was what Spyros was telling him – concentrate on the SOE man, who spread lies about me. .

Mavros sat up with a start. Waggoner had told him he had a place in Chania. With the filming in progress, it seemed likely he would be staying there. Early morning would be the perfect time to catch him unawares. But how to find where he was? The obvious thing would have been to call Rosie Yellenberg, aka Tzannetaki, but he couldn’t trust her. There was one person on the production crew he thought was reliable.

‘Alice Quincy.’ The voice was faint and full of sleep.

‘Alex Mavros. Sorry it’s so early, but I really need to find David Waggoner.’

‘What?’ the young woman mumbled. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘You don’t have to understand, Alice. It’s to do with Maria Kondos going missing again. He may have seen her.’ Phrasing the untruth that way reduced his guilt.

‘Ah, right. Hang on.’ He heard her fingers fly across a keyboard.

‘Sarpaki Fourteen,’ she said. ‘Do you want the phone number?’

‘Yes.’ He entered it into his mobile’s memory. ‘Thanks, Alice. Could you do me a favour? My talking to him is a bit sensitive. Could you keep this between us?’

‘Oh. OK.’

He cut the connection before she could ask more, then dressed quickly, pulling on a classy striped shirt of his brother-in-law’s that flapped about his thin frame.

OdhosSarpaki was only a few minutes’ walk away. Mavros thought about calling Mikis in as back-up, but decided he could handle the old soldier on his own. He’d also borrowed one of Nondas’s kitchen knives, one with a worn handle but a very keen edge. He reconsidered ringing Waggoner first, but decided warning him wasn’t a good idea. Not for nothing did the police make house raids in the early morning – catch the bad people at their most befuddled.

A seagull took off from the deserted street when he turned the corner, leaving behind a partially consumed chicken carcass. The scent from the flowers on the plants hanging from the wooden balconies covered the whiff of decay. Mavros found number fourteen, which had Waggoner’s name neatly printed on a card, and pressed the bell for over half a minute. Then he started pounding on the door.

‘Who is it?’ came a shocked voice from behind the door, in Greek.

Mavros kept thumping away.

The door opened to reveal David Waggoner in a striped silk dressing gown and leather slippers.

‘Morning,’ Mavros said, brushing past him. ‘You and I need to have a chat.’

‘What do you mean coming-’

‘What do you mean consorting with known drug traffickers and antiquities thieves?’

That put a stop to the old man’s protestations.

‘You’d better come up,’ he said, heading for the wooden staircase.

The house contained floor tiles and ornate ceilings that suggested it was several hundred years old. On the first floor, a double door led into a large open space, furnished at one end as a saloniand the other as a dining room, both full of antique pieces. There were several vases of cut flowers.

‘Do you own this place?’

Waggoner nodded.

‘And the house at Kornaria? Your army pension must be very generous.’

The old man looked at him combatively. ‘I went into business after I left the forces.’

‘Yes, that’s one of the things I want to talk to you about.’

‘What makes you think I’ll take part in any conversation?’

‘This,’ Mavros said, pulling the knife out from under his shirt.

Alarm flashed across Waggoner’s face. ‘You. . you wouldn’t. .’

‘Strange you haven’t asked about this,’ Mavros said, pointing at the dressing on his neck.

‘What. . what happened?’

It was clear he was prevaricating. ‘You know exactly what your friend Tryfon Roufos ordered.’

Waggoner’s head dropped. ‘He’s not my friend.’

‘Business associate, then. You know how untrustworthy he is, don’t you?’

‘I. . I’ve heard things, yes.’

Mavros plunged the knife into the wooden table between them and left it vibrating to and fro. The former SOE man’s eyes followed it like those of a small jungle creature being hypnotized by a snake.

‘I’m not leaving till I find out what you’re doing,’ Mavros said, glancing at the knife. ‘If you don’t want your throat to end up with a deeper cut than mine, start talking. Now!’ His anger surprised him – the Cretan urge to violence had taken him over again. Then he remembered that Waggoner had killed many times in the past and watched him even more closely.

‘I. . Roufos made me a proposition.’ He hesitated, but continued when he saw the intensity in Mavros’s eyes.

‘He knew I had free access to the Heavenly Blue – and he found out what I thought about Rudolf Kersten.’

‘What was the proposition?’

‘That I – what’s the expression? – case the joint to see how Kersten’s coin collection could be stolen.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Mavros smiled tightly. ‘You know that Roufos was using Rudi Kersten’s grandson for the same purpose?’

Waggoner’s jaw headed floorwards. ‘What? I wasn’t aware there was a grandson.’

‘Oskar Mesner. He’s here in Chania. Coincidentally, he knows the neo-fascist shit-heads Roufos got to tickle my throat. In fact, your pal Roufos contributes to an organization of far-right headbangers who go around goose-stepping and giving Nazi salutes as they beat up immigrants. What do you feel about that?’

Waggoner was clearly taken aback. ‘I don’t know anything about it.’

‘I always find it’s a good idea to do basic research on people before you go into business with them.’ The words rung hollow in Mavros’s ears – he’d only recently discovered essential information about Luke Jannet and his sister. ‘Anyway, what was your interest? You’ve been blackmailing Kersten for years. Did you want to take every single thing of his, even via a bastard like Roufos?’

‘The man was a hypocrite and a murderer. He deserved to die on the street.’

‘As opposed to an orange grove not far from where you were watching the massacre shoot.’

Waggoner glared at him. ‘What are you implying? I had nothing to do with his death.’

‘Don’t worry, I saw where you were sitting. But maybe you got one of your bandits from Kornaria to do the deed.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ the Englishman blustered, but he lowered his gaze again.

‘Or maybe Roufos used your inside knowledge of the set to send one of his heavies in. I saw you speaking on your phone while you were on the platform.’

There were beads of sweat on Waggoner’s forehead. ‘That’s all speculation, Mavros. Kindly leave.’

‘I’m not finished. Besides, Inspector Margaritis will get to you and your phone records soon enough.’ Mavros doubted that, given the official feeling that it was suicide, but even imaginary leverage was useful.

‘Now,’ he continued, ‘let’s talk about Kornaria. I know you used the village as one of your bases during the war.’ He waited till the old man confirmed that with a nod. ‘So it’s perfectly reasonable that you built a house there – even if the money you used to do so resulted from blackmail, which is a crime even in Crete.’

‘Get to the point.’

Mavros smiled. ‘I was hoping youwould. No? Well, allow me.’ He leaned forward and pulled the knife from the table.

Waggoner stood up unsteadily. ‘Now look here, you can’t-’

‘I can!’ Mavros yelled, stepping round the table and pushing the old man on to the sofa. ‘I can do anything I fucking well like, you murdering, thieving, lying piece of empire detritus. You want to know something? The EAM man Kanellos you said betrayed you to the Germans, he was my father.’

‘What?’ Waggoner gasped. ‘Your father?’

‘And, as you know very well, he had nothing to do with the betrayal of your band. You executed that man yourself.’

Waggoner’s face was now slicked with sweat and his thick-veined hands were trembling. ‘Your father?’ he repeated. ‘How can that be?’

‘It’s a small country,’ Mavros replied. ‘Sooner or later, everyone knows everyone else.’ He raised the knife. ‘As you can imagine, I’m seriously pissed off about the lies you spread. There’s only one way I’m leaving this house with you still breathing – tell me everything I ask.’

‘I have nothing to say,’ the Englishman said, his lower jaw protruding like the bow of a battleship.

Eventually Mavros turned on his heel and left.

Mikis drove Mavros to the Heavenly Blue.

‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’ he asked. ‘They are your employers, after all. And mine.’

Mavros shrugged. ‘You can leave me at the gate if you want.’

‘What? Like they don’t know I was with you in Kornaria and in the fight afterwards? No, fuck ’em. I’m coming with you.’

‘Thanks.’ Mavros was relieved, but he would have gone through with his plan on his own. As they approached the resort, he made a call.

‘Hi, Cara, good morning.’

‘Same to you, Alex.’ The actress sounded like she was ready to take on the world. Then she remembered his raison d’etre. ‘Any news about Maria?’

‘I’m working on it. Can you do me a favour?’

‘Anything.’ She laughed. ‘Within reason.’

‘Let Luke Jannet and Rosie Yellenberg know that I need to talk to them in your suite.’

‘OK. When?’

‘Ten minutes?’

‘Consider it done. I’ll offer them breakfast. If that doesn’t work, I’ll threaten to stop working again.’

‘You’re good,’ he said, in admiration. ‘Really good.’

‘Why, thank you, sir.’

Mikis parked as near the hotel entrance as he could. ‘Am I bringing hardware?’

‘I don’t think that’ll be necessary.’

‘What about that knife you’re carrying?’

‘I may need to cut some fruit.’

As they crossed the reception area, Renzo Capaldi stepped forward from the door to the Kerstens’ apartment.

‘Mr Mavros,’ he said, smiling ingratiatingly. ‘Everything is fine. I had a man patrolling outside all night. I spoke to Mrs Kersten a few minutes ago.’

‘How is she?’

‘Calm, I would say.’

‘I’ll call in to see her soon.’ Mavros led Mikis to the stairs.

‘Race you,’ the Cretan said, disappearing round the first corner.

Mavros, worried about stretching the stitches in his neck, let him go and took the lift from the first floor. He found Mikis on the fifth with his chest expanding at a normal rate.

‘Is that natural fitness or do you work out?’

‘Both.’

‘Arrogant Cretan shit,’ Mavros said, nodding at the gorilla outside Cara’s suite. They were allowed in.

‘Alex!’ the actress said, when she saw the dressing on his neck. ‘What happened to you?’

‘Yeah,’ Jannet added, from the armchair he was slouching in. ‘Cut yourself shaving?’

‘Something like that.’ Mavros looked around. Alice Quincy was sitting behind her boss, but there was no sign of the producer.

‘Don’t worry,’ Cara said, giving him a cup of coffee, ‘Rosie’s on her way. Who’s your friend?’

‘Mikis Tsifakis,’ the Cretan said. ‘Driver.’

‘You brought the hired help?’ Jannet asked contemptuously.

‘Why not?’ Mavros replied. ‘That’s what Iam, isn’t it?’

Mikis smiled and went over to one of the windows. Shortly afterwards, the external door opened and Rosie Yellenberg came down the hall. She looked at Mavros, but made no comment. He watched as she cast an expressionless glance at her brother and then caught Cara’s eye.

‘What’s this about? Some of us have got work to do.’

‘Aw, chill out, will you, Rosie?’ Jannet said, looking up from his phone.

‘Was she always like this?’ Mavros asked. ‘I mean when you were kids.’

There was silence while people exchanged surprised looks.

‘Well, lookee here,’ the director said, his eyes narrowing. ‘We’ve got ourselves a dick who knows how to dig.’

Mavros wondered if that was a reference to what he had put Oskar Mesner and Roufos’s skinhead through last night. It seemed unlikely as even Waggoner hadn’t seemed to know about it.

‘You and Rosie are brother and sister?’ Cara said, in astonishment.

The producer directed an icy glare at her. ‘Something wrong with that?’

‘Well, yes, actually,’ the actress replied. ‘Like why you’ve kept it secret.’

Jannet looked at his sister. ‘Any reason why we shouldn’t? That is, any reason we have to share personal stuff with you?’

‘It’s weird,’ Cara said.

‘Like everything else in the movie business isn’t?’ the director returned.

‘It’s more than weird,’ Mavros said. ‘What they’ve also failed to mention is that their father, Eugene Tzannetakis, came from the notorious drug-producing village of Kornaria and that he was jailed for drug trafficking in the States.’

‘Kornaria?’ the actress said. ‘That’s where Maria was held, isn’t it?’ She moved towards Jannet. ‘What have you done to her, you animal?’ she demanded, her voice rising.

‘Whoah.’ The director raised his arms. ‘I haven’t done anything to that bitch.’

Cara kicked him on the shin. Given that she was wearing pointed boots, he must have been in pain, but his face didn’t show it.

‘Sit down,’ Rosie said, with authority. ‘And calm down as well.’

Mavros took Cara back to her place at the end of the sofa. ‘Leave this to me,’ he said quietly. He went back to centre of the room. ‘Let’s be clear about this, Mr Jannet,’ he said formally. ‘When you hired me, did you or your sister know where Maria Kondos was?’

The siblings exchanged glances.

‘No,’ they said, in unison. The effect was reasonably convincing.

‘OK,’ Mavros continued. ‘Are either of you involved in the drugs business?’

Again, they looked at each other.

‘Not exactly,’ Jannet said.

‘What the hell does that mean?’

‘Cool it, man,’ the director said, with a wry smile. ‘Here’s how it is. Yes, our old man was sent down for trafficking. That’s one reason why I changed my name – as well as the fact that no fucker could pronounce the full version.’ He looked around but received only stony stares. ‘Anyway, when we came to Crete, we decided to keep away from the village in case any weasel journalist picked up a scent.’

‘If you’re not involved in anything illegal, why would that have been a problem?’ Mavros asked.

‘Now your naivety is showing like a pole dancer’s tits,’ Jannet said. ‘You any idea how hard it is to raise money for pictures these days, especially ones with foreign locations? Tell him, Rosie.’

The producer nodded. ‘Everything in Hollywood is about surface appearance, from Cara’s pretty face and beautiful. . chest, to the people with the money. As long as investors can say to their shareholders that everything looks all right, we can do business.’

‘Obviously you knew that Maria Kondos’s father was a mobster,’ Mavros said, glancing at Cara.

‘What?’ she shrieked. ‘What the fuck is going on here?’

‘Michael “the Bat” Kondoyannis,’ Jannet said. ‘He’s some piece of work. I heard he had a snitch sliced up in front of the guy’s wife and kids. They never went to the cops.’

Cara was staring at him, her eyes damp. ‘I don’t understand any of this,’ she said, with a sob. ‘Are you saying Maria’s some kind of criminal?’

‘Oh yeah,’ the director confirmed.

‘We weren’t sure what she was doing,’ Rosie Yellenberg put in, ‘but in the first week here we saw her with a man we later discovered was the mayor of Kornaria. Then she disappeared.’

Mavros held up a hand. ‘Hang on. If she was tied to the village, maybe as her father’s representative, why was she held captive there? And where is she now?’

‘Fucked if I know,’ the director said. ‘You still on the job or what?’

Mavros walked over to him and let the knife handle appear between the flaps of his shirt. ‘I told you at the beginning that I’ve never failed to find a missing person and I don’t plan on letting you screw up that record. Why didn’t you tell me all this upfront?’

Luke Jannet smiled. ‘Would you have come running, even at that fee? Anyway, you managed to get her back the first time.’

‘At the risk of her life and my friend’s here, let alone my own. Before I try again, is there anything else you’d like to tell me?’

The director looked at his sister.

‘Let me make one thing crystal clear,’ Cara Parks interjected. ‘You can forget about me working until Maria’s back. Capisce?’

Rosie Yellenberg rolled her eyes. ‘Mr Mavros, you see the urgency of the situation. The only other thing I know is that Maria has a cousin living in Galatsi. Naturally, we checked she wasn’t there before calling you in.’

‘And have you checked again this time?’

‘No. That’s your job.’

‘You don’t really want her back, do you?’ he said, stepping towards the producer. ‘Except Cara’s made that impossible for you now.’

‘I don’t know what Maria’s doing, but if she’s involved with the drugs trade, she could screw this project into the ground,’ Rosie said.

‘Give me the cousin’s name and address,’ Mavros said, taking the piece of paper she scribbled on. ‘All right, Miki, let’s get out of here. The stink of bullshit is really getting to me.’

Cara came with them to the door. ‘I can’t believe this,’ she said.

‘I know those unlikely siblings are holding out on us,’ Mavros told her. ‘Don’t believe anything until further notice.’

‘Except that you’ll find her, won’t you, Alex?’ Cara put her hand on his arm.

‘I’ll find her,’ he repeated.

She kissed him on the cheek, not far from his lips.

Mikis got them to Galatsi in a few minutes. The cousin, Yiota Prevelaki, lived on the main street, a short distance from the square, in which there was a marble statue of an ancient goddess cradling a dead soldier in her arms.

‘There was a hell of a battle during the war,’ Mikis said.

‘I know. My father was here.’

The Cretan almost drove into a tree. ‘What?’

‘He was in EAM. He tried to convince the locals not to take part in the charge.’ Mavros told him what else he had found out about Kanellos.

‘Good for him. Dozens of them were killed.’ Mikis glanced at Mavros before he drove on. ‘Those Hollywood assholes aren’t the only people who’ve been keeping secrets.’

‘Sorry, I’ve been struggling to come to terms with it. You see, I didn’t know anything about what he did in Crete until a few days ago, and then there were Waggoner’s lies.’

‘Yes, that must be tough.’ Mikis stopped outside a small but neatly maintained house, the garden out front full of flowers. ‘Uh-oh.’

Mavros followed his gaze. There was a wheelchair lying on its side at the bottom of the steps that led to the terrace around the house.

NINETEEN

Mavros looked up and down the main street. There were cars parked on both sides, including a large black pickup with tinted windows.

‘You’d better get your pistol,’ he said to Mikis. ‘And your meat cleaver.’

The Cretan came back with the weapons covered by a jacket. ‘How do you want to do this?’

‘Let’s get up to the terrace. You go left and I’ll go right.’

‘Thought your old man was a Commie.’

Mavros smiled as the adrenaline began to flow. They went up the steps as quietly as they could, obscured from view by tall bushes. When Mikis moved away, Mavros took out the kitchen knife and put his ear against the bright blue door. Nothing. He walked to the nearest window and slowly put his head round. He saw a tidy sitting room, but there was no one in it. Then he heard a high-pitched wail that could have been a cat, but he was sure was human. It came from the rear of the building. Stepping less cautiously, he rounded the corner and went along the side wall. A window towards the rear showed the kitchen. There was a pair of bare legs lying inside, while the rest of the person was on the back terrace.

By the time he got there, Mikis was crouching over a women in a short skirt and white blouse, who was on her front. There was blood on her arms.

Mavros joined him and they rolled the woman on to her side. Blood came from her mouth, as well as a couple of teeth.

‘Bastards,’ Mikis hissed.

The woman moaned and opened her eyes, looking at them blearily as she spat out more blood.

‘Yiota?’ Mavros asked. ‘Yiota Prevelaki?’

‘Yes,’ she said weakly.

‘Where’s Maria?’

The woman tried to focus. ‘Maria? She’s. . she’s inside.’

‘Shit,’ Mikis said. ‘Stay with her.’ He stepped over her legs and headed inside. A few seconds later, there was a loud crash and the sound of subdued male voices.

‘Stay on your side,’ Mavros said, getting up and going into the kitchen.

By the time he made it to the hall, the front door was open. Mikis was lying motionless a metre inside. Two men in black, caps drawn low over their faces, were carrying a woman out of the gate, her long black hair hanging down.

‘Stop!’ Mavros said, looking for Mikis’s pistol. It was nowhere to be seen. He ran down the steps, brandishing the kitchen knife. ‘Stop thieves!’ He hoped that would attract attention from passers-by.

The men were pulling shut the doors of the pickup when he got to the street. The engine roared and it veered out into the street, provoking vigorous horn blowing from an old man in an ancient Fiat. Mavros squinted into the late morning sun and tried unsuccessfully to make out the number plate. He cursed himself for not taking it earlier – the vehicle was the kind that men from Kornaria drove.

Running back to the house, he turned Mikis on to his side and made sure his airway was clear. There was a nasty wound on the side of his temple, blood welling from it.

Mavros called for an ambulance as he headed back to the woman. She had pulled herself up and was sitting against the doorframe, her head back.

‘Did you recognize the men, Yiota?’ he asked, checking that she was breathing without obstruction.

‘No. . one. . one of them knocked on the door and they. . they just pushed in, grabbed me by the hair. I managed. . to pull away and run this way, but one of the pigs caught up with me and punched me. .’

He found a cloth and soaked it in water. ‘Here, hold this against your mouth.’

He looked back at Mikis. He hadn’t changed position, but his chest was moving.

The paramedics arrived quickly and looked the casualties over. One of them led Yiota to the ambulance and then returned to help his colleague with the still unconscious Mikis.

‘I don’t like the look of that wound,’ he said, turning to Mavros. ‘What happened?’

‘He was hit, I don’t know what with. Maybe a pistol butt.’

The men exchanged glances and started to move Mikis on to a stretcher.

‘Take them to the West Crete Clinic, please,’ he said, slipping the Cretan’s phone and car keys out of his pocket. His large knife must have been removed along with the Colt.

Before he went to the Jeep, Mavros scrolled down the phone book and found the entry for ‘Dad’. Inhaling deeply, he called Mr Tsifakis and explained what had happened.

‘We’ll see you at the clinic,’ Mikis’s father said, with impressive composure. ‘Don’t call the police.’

I wasn’t thinking of it, Mavros said to himself, as he walked past the overturned wheelchair.

But the police, in the form of Inspector Margaritis and a bull-chested sidekick, were waiting for him at the clinic.

‘Alex Mavro,’ the inspector said, with a thin smile. ‘You’ve been poking your nose in all sorts of places.’ He pointed at the dressing on Mavros’s neck. ‘You should be more careful.’

‘You should be looking for Rudolf Kersten’s killer.’

‘Rudolf Kersten killed Rudolf Kersten,’ was Margaritis’s riposte. ‘The forensic examiner’s report is in.’

‘That was very quick.’

‘We don’t have as many suspicious deaths as you do in the big city.’

Mavros made to move past them. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to see how my friend is.’

‘This won’t take a minute,’ the inspector said, grabbing his arm and pressing long nails through Mavros’s shirt. ‘Get off the island, you meddling piece of shit. There’s nothing to keep you here.’

Mavros said nothing about Maria Kondos’s abduction. ‘You’re not the first person to say that. Who’s paying you?’ He leaned close to the thin man’s sparsely covered head. In the background he saw a large man with grey hair and a face that was a heavier version of Mikis’s. The woman next to him was almost as bulky and her face was set hard as she looked at the policemen. He reckoned he could go put the boot in. ‘Waggoner? Roufos? Or the wankers up in Kornaria?’

Margaritis dropped his arm like it was a piece of carrion. ‘You-’

‘ Youfuck off,’ Mavros said, glaring. ‘If you want to arrest me, go ahead.’ The inspector stood motionless. ‘Thought not.’

‘What happened to the woman and young Tsifakis?’

‘Slipped on a step.’

Margaritis snorted. ‘Both of them? Anyway, that’s not what we heard. There was another woman.’

Some citizen of Galatsi had obviously become suspicious when Maria was carried out of the house.

Mikis’s parents came over.

‘What’s going on, Inspector?’ his father demanded.

‘Nothing,’ Margaritis said, with an unctuous bow. ‘We’re finished.’ He departed.

‘Haris Tsifakis,’ the big man said, extending a thick-fingered hand. ‘My wife, Eleni. Pleased to finally meet you, Mr Mavro.’

‘Alex, please.’ Mavros shook their hands. ‘I’m very sorry about-’

‘No need for that,’ Tsifakis said brusquely. ‘Mikis can look after himself.’

‘Not this time,’ his wife said, looking into Mavros’s eyes. ‘We know you and Mikis have put yourselves up against some of the island’s most dangerous people. That shows courage. But tell me that you didn’t lead my son into unnecessary danger.’

‘To be honest, he’s been the one leading me most of the time,’ Mavros said, provoking a grin from Mikis’s father.

‘That’s my boy. Let’s go and see how he is.’

Mavros led them to the lifts and they went up to the fourth floor.

‘You again,’ said Doctor Stavrakakis to Mavros. ‘Do you like this place so much you’re going to take up residence?’

‘How is my son?’ Eleni put in.

‘Excuse me, Mrs Tsifaki.’ The family was obviously well known. ‘I’m afraid he’s still unconscious. We’re carrying out various tests, but there’s little I can tell you now.’ He glanced at Mavros. ‘As our Athenian friend knows, head wounds are unpredictable. How is Ms Kondos?’

‘She was kidnapped this morning.’

The neurologist looked less taken aback than he might have done.

‘The woman that came in with Mikis, how is she?’

‘Mrs Prevelaki? I checked her. There’s no significant head trauma, though she’ll have to be wary of concussion. She’s downstairs having her lip stitched. I think you know the way. You might take the opportunity to have that dressing changed.’

The doctor nodded to Mikis’s parents and walked away.

‘This is connected with those drug-dealing bastards in Kornaria, isn’t it?’ Haris said. ‘Don’t worry about the vendetta. We can come back at them with plenty of firepower.’

His wife nodded avidly, making Mavros glad he was on their side.

‘In the meantime, we’ll stay to see how Mikis gets on,’ she said. ‘Let us know when you need help.’

Mavros nodded and walked to the stairs, noting that she had said ‘when’ rather than ‘if’. That didn’t make him feel great, though he appreciated their support. He’d much rather have had the gun-wielding Mikis by his side.

Yiota Prevelaki was sitting outside the treatment room on the ground floor, with a dressing around her mouth.

Mavros took the seat next to her. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘They gave me a local anaesthetic,’ she said, lisping. ‘I’ll be all right until it wears off.’

‘Then you just take painkillers.’

The woman looked at him. ‘Maria told me about you. How you saved her from those animals in Kornaria.’

‘That was my friend upstairs more than me.’

‘There was something about a rock in an armed man’s face?’

‘Ah, that. I got lucky.’

She smiled with difficulty. ‘You’re too modest, Mr Mavro.’

‘Alex, please. Are you waiting for someone?’

‘No, my husband’s on a ship in the Pacific. I was summoning up strength to call a taxi.’

‘I’ll take you home.’

When they were in the Jeep, Mavros made a mess of engaging first gear.

‘Your friend’s a driver, isn’t he?’ Yiota said. ‘The Tsifakis family is an important one in Chania.’

He nodded. ‘I hope he pulls through.’

‘So do I. What are you going to do now? Maria must be back in Kornaria now. You can’t go up there. They’ll use you for target practice.’

‘I’ll deal with that when I have to. First, I need to know more about your cousin.’ He pulled on to the main road heading west.

‘I can’t tell you much-ow!’

‘Careful,’ Mavros said, touching his own dressing, which he’d forgotten to get changed. ‘That spray will be wearing off.’

Yiota nodded slowly. ‘There isn’t much I can tell you about Maria, Alex. We exchange emails from time to time, but we’ve never been close. I didn’t even see her when the film crew arrived – until she called me yesterday afternoon.’

‘Did you go to pick her up from the Heavenly Blue?’

‘I don’t drive. No, she came in a taxi – not one of the Tsifakis cars. She got the driver to pick her up from the back of the hotel.’

‘So she told you she’d been in Kornaria.’

‘Yes, she said she’d gone for a walk outside the resort on Sunday evening – something about being sick of being cooped up – and that a car stopped and the driver offered her a lift.’

‘Did she know the driver – was it a man or a woman?’

‘A man, I think, but she didn’t say whether she knew him. Someone was hiding in the back seat and suddenly a hood was over her head and a rope round her neck. She was pushed forward so that she was out of sight.’

‘Sounds like the guys who grabbed her today – or equally proficient hard men.’

Yiota Prevelaki turned to him. ‘Not everyone in our family is worthy of approbation, Alex.’ She stared at his expression. ‘What? A village woman isn’t allowed to use learned vocabulary? I trained as a teacher, but my husband’s family doesn’t allow me to work.’ There was a weight of pain in her voice.