The Silver Stain am-4 Page 24

  Mavros smiled. ‘In the middle of the city, nothing. Later, who knows?’

  ‘Put it this way,’ said the big man. ‘This pickup has enough arms to keep a small army at bay.’

  ‘Let’s hope we don’t need them,’ Mavros said, thinking of the mountain men who were on his case and realizing how small that hope was. ‘Listen, Yanni, give me your phone numbers and I’ll call you if I need you.’

  The Cretan looked in at the women again. ‘You sure you don’t want us to cover your. . backsides?’

  ‘Ha. Not right now.’ Mavros input the numbers into his mobile’s memory.

  ‘OK, happy travels,’ Yannis said, waving into the Jeep.

  ‘Who were those madmen?’ Niki asked, when they set off again.

  ‘Our guardian angels,’ Mavros said. ‘But we don’t need them now. It’s time for an early dinner.’ He headed into the centre of Chania, keeping an eye on his mirror. There were no macho-man pickups to be seen.

  Then his phone rang. He listened to what Hildegard Kersten had to say, struggling to make sense of it. ‘You mean your husband was doing business with Roufos?’

  ‘At least thinking about it. Alex, you must be very careful. Whatever you do, stay away from Kornaria.’

  ‘I’m working on that,’ he replied, not telling her that he was sure he’d have to go to the village to get to the bottom of Maria Kondos’s kidnapping and of her husband’s death.

  ‘If you see Oskar, tell him to stay away from Waggoner. And to come and visit me. I have things to tell him.’

  Mavros agreed to that and cut the connection. If he saw Oskar, it would probably be in the company of numerous unfriendly skinheads, and he had the feeling the Kerstens’ grandson would not have forgotten his humiliation in the orange groves.

  Then his phone rang again. It was Haris Tsifakis.

  ‘I’ve found Roufos.’

  ‘Wow, that was quick.’

  ‘You’d better get over there as soon as you can. My contact says he’s been looking jumpy.’

  ‘I’ll bet he has.’

  ‘Do you want Mikis’s friends to come along?’

  ‘No, thanks. I can handle that sleazy beanpole.’

  ‘What about your women?’

  Mavros hoped Niki didn’t hear that characterization of her and Cara. ‘You think I can get rid of them? Besides, they might distract the tosser.’

  The Cretan laughed. ‘Make sure they don’t distract you, my friend.’

  Mavros glanced at them. Cara was looking out of the side window, while Niki’s eyes were fixed straight ahead. For a second, he wished the Jeep was fitted with passenger ejector seats.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Mavros parked the Jeep as close as he could to the harbour and led the women down a narrow street.

  ‘Nice,’ Niki said. ‘I wish Athens was so quiet.’

  Mavros glanced at her. She seemed to be genuinely enjoying the surroundings — old walls, balconies, flourishing plants cascading to the paving stones. A kid on a bike came past like a rocket, honking his horn. Even that only raised a smile from her. For the umpteenth time, he was amazed how quickly her mood could swing.

  They came out on the restaurant-lined front with the dome at the eastern end and Cara drew her cap down lower. There weren’t many people around in the early evening, the sun sinking slowly and casting its reddening light on the island of Ayii Theodhori.

  ‘That’s the bastion of St Nicholas,’ the actress said, pointing to the low fortification on the long jetty that almost enclosed the harbour. The lighthouse that was a well-known local feature was at its end. ‘Venetian, but much of the other building work was carried out during the Ottoman Empire.’

  Niki looked at Cara in surprise. ‘You’ve been reading up on the city.’

  The actress laughed and stuck her chest out. ‘Not just a pretty pair of peaks.’

  Mavros had to bite his tongue. ‘Erm, right. Why don’t you two go to that cafe while I talk to Roufos?’

  ‘No,’ they said, laughing at their unintentionally perfect timing.

  ‘Forget it, Alex,’ Niki said. ‘I’ve come all the way to Athens to see you. Besides, we can guarantee your safety.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Cara agreed. ‘He’s hardly going to hold a Hollywood star at gunpoint, is he?’

  ‘Probably not,’ Mavros admitted, though he didn’t discount that Roufos might have other scumbags on hand to do his dirty work. ‘All right. But at the first sign of trouble, you do exactly what I say.’

  The women looked at him dubiously and then nodded.

  Mavros led them to the five-star Kydhonia Palace hotel at the far end of the front. It had been formed by knocking together several Venetian buildings that had escaped the German bombing and had a distinct look of opulence. The sunshade stands were painted gold and the chairs were several leagues above the arse-racking furniture of a kafeneion.

  A young woman in a figure-hugging dress that was someone’s idea of a Minoan priestess — without the breasts entirely bare — gave them a wide smile.

  ‘We’re here to see Mr Tryfon Roufos,’ Mavros said, carefully keeping his eyes level with her face, as Niki was right behind him.

  ‘Certainly, I’ll let him know, Mr. .?’

  Mavros gave what he hoped was a complicity-inducing smile. ‘The thing is, these ladies are a surprise for his birthday. Do you think you could send us up unannounced?’

  The receptionist gave Cara and Niki the once-over and then turned back to Mavros. ‘I understand. Mr Roufos often has. . lady friends.’ She gave a moue of distaste. ‘It’s suite 513 on the top floor.’

  Mavros nodded his thanks and headed for the stairs.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Niki said. ‘Some of us have been up since dawn. I’m taking the lift.’

  ‘See you up there,’ Cara said, setting off rapidly.

  In the lift, Niki gave Mavros a soft smile. ‘I like her. I even believe you haven’t laid a finger on her.’

  ‘Oh, thanks.’ He gave her a weak smile. ‘She’s way out of your, I mean, my league.’

  That earned him a kick on the shin, but he’d had worse.

  ‘Listen, Niki, it really isn’t a good idea, your being here. This could turn nasty any minute.’

  ‘All the more reason for me to protect my man,’ she said, taking his arm.

  ‘With what?’ he demanded. ‘Have you got an Uzi in your bag?’

  ‘Bastard.’ Her eyes filled with tears.

  ‘Oh, shit,’ he said, putting his arm around her. ‘I’m sorry.’ The previous year, they had been sprayed with machine-pistol fire by Athenian gangsters and Niki had ended up in hospital.

  There was a loud ping and the doors slid apart.

  Cara was leaning against the wall, her breath under control. ‘Sweet,’ she said, then noticed Niki’s eyes. ‘Hey, what’s up, hon?’ She gave Mavros a fierce look. ‘What have you done?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he said hastily, leading Niki out of the lift.

  After a moment, she came back to herself and smiled at Cara. ‘Don’t worry, I’m fine.’ It was clear that she appreciated the support. ‘Let’s go and sort this old pervert out.’

  Cara nodded, pulling down the zip of her top. Niki laughed and undid several of her buttons.

  Mavros stood, shaking his head. ‘Shall I undo my flies? The story is that Roufos will screw anything, though he prefers underage bodies.’

  ‘That’s all right,’ Cara said, stepping down the corridor. ‘I can do teen.’

  They got to 513 and Mavros knocked on the door, letting Cara stand in front of the spyhole. The chain rattled and then the door opened.

  ‘Oh, gross,’ the actress said, sidestepping Tryfon Roufos. She went into the room, found the TV handset and turned off the porn movie that was playing.

  The antiquities dealer was wearing nothing but a pair of sagging underpants. His thighs were skinny and his chest covered in thick white hair. He stared at Mavros after running a lascivious eye over the women.

  ‘A
lex Mavro,’ he said, focussing on the dressing on his neck. ‘What are you doing here?’

  The punch to the belly wasn’t particularly hard, but it doubled Roufos up and left him gasping. Mavros grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and hauled him over to a newspaper-strewn sofa.

  ‘What I’m doing is paying you back for what your goons did to me. Not that I’ve finished. But I’d also like the answers to some questions.’

  ‘Fuck. . off,’ Roufos said, arms cradling his belly. ‘It’ll only take one phone call for me to finish you for good.’

  ‘Careful,’ Mavros said. ‘There are witnesses.’

  Cara had taken off her cap. It was clear that the antiquities dealer recognized her. ‘You gonna have me finished too, tough guy?’ she asked, giving him a look that Bette Davis would have been proud of.

  ‘And me?’ Niki demanded, taking her hand out of her bag. She had slipped a key from her ring between each finger, the longest being that to her flat. It could easily put an eye out.

  Mavros was taken aback, both by the women’s lack of surprise at his resort to violence and by their apparent willingness to indulge in the same. It seemed Crete really did get to people, even within hours of their arrival. He went over and put the chain and double lock on the door, then looked around the suite. He didn’t find any weapons, but he did gather up three mobile phones, as well as a cardboard folder from a worn briefcase.

  ‘All right, you piece of shit,’ he said, sitting down beside Roufos. ‘Start talking, first about Rudolf Kersten’s coin collection.’

  ‘What about it?’

  Mavros slapped him on the cheek. He didn’t usually treat people like that, but he’d had dealings with the antiquities dealer in the past and he knew how devious he was.

  ‘You’ve been trying to steal it.’

  ‘You can’t prove that,’ Roufos muttered, head down to avoid more blows.

  Mavros laughed. ‘I don’t have to. I just have to go on hitting you till you come clean. Toss over those keys, will you, Niki?’ He caught them and threaded them through his fingers, then ran the metallic tips along the dealer’s balding head. ‘You sent Oskar Mesner to steal some coins in order to scare the Kerstens, after getting David Waggoner to case the building.’

  ‘I don’t know any Oskar Mesner,’ Roufos said sullenly.

  ‘Liar,’ Mavros said, pressing the keys harder into his skull.

  ‘All right, I admit I used him,’ the dealer said. ‘What of it? You and your heavy took the coins back.’

  ‘So then you got in touch with Kersten and got him to agree to sell you half the collection.’

  Tryfon Roufos raised his head and stared at Mavros. ‘How do you know that?’

  ‘Never mind.’ He opened the folder and started flicking through papers. ‘Oh, what’s this? A draft bill of sale for two-hundred-and-sixty coins, description as per addendum “A”, price four hundred thousand euros. Interesting. What are they really worth?’

  ‘What? I don’t know. It depends on specific market considerations and-’

  ‘Bullshit. You must have a sum in mind, a calculating snake like you.’ He drew the key points towards Roufos’s left eye.

  ‘I. . oh, all right. . at least a million.’ The dealer’s chin fell to his chest again.

  ‘A decent profit even in your dirty line. Then again, you could have the whole collection, couldn’t you?’

  The dealer stared at him. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Mrs Kersten is all on her own. No doubt you could bribe the security staff.’ Mavros wasn’t worried about putting Hildegard in danger because he trusted Renzo Capaldi to look after her. Telling Roufos that the collection had been removed would have guaranteed her safety, but he wanted to see how the dealer responded to the temptation.

  ‘Or you could use Oskar Mesner to slither his way in and sweet talk his grandmother.’

  Roufos was clearly trying to work out where Mavros was trying to go with this angle of attack, but he wasn’t allowed any more time.

  ‘David Waggoner. What’s the nature of your business with him?’

  ‘Waggoner?’ the dealer asked, making more of a mess of pronouncing the name than was necessary. ‘Who’s he?’

  ‘I saw you with him the other night in Tou Philippou, you lying shit.’ Mavros edged the longest key closer to Roufos’s eye. With a rapid movement, he dug the point into the side of his forehead. He heard Cara’s intake of breath, though Niki didn’t seem to be disturbed. ‘Last time. What are you scheming with Waggoner about?’

  ‘I. . we. . we have some interests in. . in Kornaria.’

  Mavros laughed. ‘What a surprise! They wouldn’t by any chance be illegal interests, would they? I seem to remember you deal in Byzantine icons. They wouldn’t be being packed up with drugs shipments to the US, would they?’

  Roufos’s failure to answer confirmed Mavros had hit the spot.

  ‘And Minoan remains?’ he added. ‘There aren’t so many at this end of Crete.’

  ‘A. . a few,’ the dealer confirmed.

  ‘Chania is built over a Minoan city called Kydhonia,’ Cara said, prompting a raised eyebrow from Niki.

  ‘Quite,’ said Mavros. ‘So you reckoned that scaring me off would give you a free run to infinite riches.’ He leaned closer. ‘Big mistake.’

  ‘You won’t leave the Great Island alive,’ Roufos said, closing his eyes as the keys moved closer. ‘The Kornariates have already beaten your driver into a coma. It’s only a matter of time till they catch up with you.’

  ‘Now that’s helpful,’ Mavros said. ‘You’ve moved the conversation on to my next topic. Why was Maria Kondos kidnapped?’

  ‘Maria who?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I mean Maria Kondoyanni. Daughter of Michael “the Bat”, that well known Florida mobster who I’m sure you’ve had dealings with.’

  ‘Haven’t,’ Roufos whispered.

  ‘Now I come to think of it, you’ve probably had dealings with Eugene Tzannetakis too.’

  ‘Who?’ The antiquities dealer’s voice was almost inaudible.

  ‘You heard. As it happens, he’s the father of Luke Tzannetakis, also known as Luke Jannet, director of Cara here’s movie.’ Mavros moved the key up to Roufos’s right eye and pressed it against the closed lid.

  ‘All right!’ the dealer squealed. ‘I’ve sent shipments to them both in containers, along with the drugs.’

  There was a loud knock at the door.

  Cara was up quickly and on her way to look through the spyhole. She stepped back with a wide smile on her face. ‘Speak of the devil,’ she said, in a loud whisper.

  ‘Jannet?’ Mavros returned. ‘Is he on his own?’

  ‘Looks like it.’

  ‘Let him in.’

  Cara undid the chain and lock, then pulled the door open. As Jannet entered, a slack smile on his face, she kneed him hard in the groin. He went down on one knee, then gradually hauled himself up.

  ‘What the fuck was that for, bitch?’ he asked, pulling a pistol from above his backside and pointing it in her face.

  ‘Behind the sofa!’ Mavros yelled at Niki, heaving Roufos up and using him as a shield.

  Stalemate.

  David Waggoner stood on the terrace of his house to the west of Kornaria and watched the last of the sun ebb away from the mountainsides into the distant sea. He had seen the same sight in his twenties, when his group of andartes came down from the high caves to stock up on supplies. There was always a glendi, a feast with sheep being killed and roasted, and barrels of wine broached. Scouts were posted on the almost impassable tracks, but the Germans knew better than to send patrols up there, especially at night. He took a sip of the raki that had been distilled from the stems of his own vines and tried to set what was left of his life in order.

  The former SOE man knew that he’d made several mistakes recently. The first of those was trusting Tryfon Roufos. Contacts in Athens had told him that the antiquities dealer was a snake with only his own interests at heart
, but the temptation to prise Rudolf Kersten’s precious coins from him was overwhelming. And the truth was that the coins should have been sent to Egypt by submarine and never fallen into the German’s hands after the war. He thought about the lies he had written in his memoirs. Why had he accused the EAM man known as Kanellos of betraying them? With hindsight, the reason didn’t make him proud, but he had always been headstrong. The idea of admitting in public that one of his own men had been a traitor was abhorrent, even though he had personally put a bullet in the bastard’s head and made sure his wife and children were driven from the village. He was an uncle of the Kondoyannis who was now in jail in Florida.

  Waggoner shook his head to dislodge those images. His second mistake had been to underestimate Alex Mavros. The same Athenian contacts had told him to be careful — the investigator had a reputation for doggedness. That was why he had approached the long-haired, unshaven man in Kersten’s hotel and told him not to trust the German. That scheme had backfired spectacularly. Now Mavros was trying to find out what happened to Kersten, even though the local authorities had been bribed to declare his death suicide. The reach of Kornaria was long and well established.

  ‘You are worried, my friend.’

  The Englishman looked down and saw the mayor, Dhrakakis, standing beneath the terrace. ‘Good evening to you, Vasili,’ he replied. ‘Worried, no. Concerned, of course.’

  When the black-clad figure had come up the steps, he handed him a glass of the spirit.

  ‘To our health,’ the mayor said. ‘Ours and Kornaria’s.’

  Waggoner led him to the table, where his housekeeper had laid out an array of mezedhes — small plates of cucumber, tomato, cheese and cured pork. Dhrakakis speared a piece of the latter with a toothpick and drained his glass.

  ‘You have been greedy,’ the Englishman said. ‘Establishing links with the Kondoyannis family in Florida was a bad move.’

  The mayor raised his heavy shoulders. ‘We made a lot of money. And what else were we to do with our products? They were far too much for the Greek market.’

  ‘Michael Kondoyannis has no self control,’ Waggoner countered. ‘You saw that when he came here. That poor girl almost died.’