The Green Lady Read online

  ‘Screw that. He can take whatever’s coming to him.’

  The policeman shook his head, then fired three shots. The bullets ricocheted away with loud zings.

  ‘That did it,’ Mavros said, pushing open the gate.

  ‘Stick that Hades-worshipping piece of shit in there,’ Bitsos said, glaring at Akis. ‘Have you got any water?’

  The Fat Man handed a small bottle to him. ‘Half of that’s for Alex,’ he said, with a growl.

  ‘This is a police operation, Mr Bitso,’ Xanthakos said. ‘Kindly follow instructions.’

  As they walked back up from the depths, Akis Exarchos in tow, Mavros told the others what he and the journalist had witnessed in the temple.

  ‘Paschos Poulos?’ the deputy commissioner said in amazement. ‘And the fugitive Tryfon Roufos? What kind of conspiracy is this?’

  ‘One involving underage girls.’ Mavros turned to the fisherman. ‘What do you know about that?’

  Akis hung his head. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Mavros shouted. ‘Where’s Ourania?’

  ‘I don’t know. Honestly. You’ll have to ask Lykos.’

  Mavros explained to Xanthakos about Lia Poulou and her link to the abused girl from Paradheisos as they came up into the temple.

  ‘Hold on,’ the policeman said, glancing at the Fat Man and Akis. ‘Make sure he doesn’t make a sound.’ Yiorgos duly covered the fisherman’s mouth with his fleshy hand.

  Xanthakos crept forward, gun in two hands, swivelling from side to side. He reached the front of the ancient building and looked down the track, then returned to the others.

  ‘All clear. What now?’

  ‘Give me your phone, please,’ Mavros said. He pressed out Niki’s mobile number. It was answered immediately.

  ‘Alex!’ his ex-lover exclaimed. ‘What’s going on? I’m at your sister’s. We’ve got your mother here too.’

  Mavros sighed in relief. Niki had done more than he’d imagined she would – then again, she had been through alarms in the past.

  ‘Thank you . . . thank you for doing that. I really appreciate it. Can you get Anna and Nondas – not my mother – around a speaker phone and call me back in a couple of minutes?’ Niki agreed and he cut the connection.

  Mavros took Xanthakos by the arm and steered him away from the others. ‘I think my family’s under threat from the Son. You haven’t seen anyone like him down here tonight?’

  The policeman shook his head.

  ‘I think he’s in Athens.’

  ‘Should we call Brigadier Kriaras?’

  ‘Bad idea, Telemache. For a start, he hasn’t been in touch with me since I was filmed on the blockade. We have mutual history with the Son, but he isn’t curious to find out what I’m doing? That’s suspicious in itself. He’s in with Poulos, I’m sure of that – maybe not as a Hades worshipper, but as Public Order Ministry official or even Olympic security committee facilitator.’

  ‘These are deep waters, Alex. I should tell my chief.’

  ‘Another bad idea.’

  The phone rang and Mavros heard the voices of his sister and brother-in-law asking if he was OK. He confirmed that he was.

  ‘Listen,’ he continued, ‘a particularly nasty killer known as the Son may be after one or all of you. The problem is, we can’t bring the police in. What do you want to do?’

  ‘Stay here,’ Nondas said. He was a solid Cretan businessman. ‘I’ve already secured the house – you know how thick the shutters are.’ He laughed. ‘Plus, I’ve got several things that go bang.’

  Mavros raised his eyes to the sooty ceiling. ‘Anna, what do you think?’

  ‘Better here than risk an ambush outside. What’s happening, Alex?’

  ‘I’m not exactly clear yet, but the main shit’s going down in Viotia, not in the big city, so you may be out of it anyway. If the worst happens, call the ordinary cops. Whatever you do, don’t get in touch with Brigadier Kriaras. He’s involved in some way. Look, I have to go. Use this number, not mine – it’s been taken. Talk to you all later. Oh, and Niki? Kill the speaker phone.’

  ‘What is it, Alex? she asked, after a click.

  ‘I . . . when this is all finished, I need to talk to you. Face to face.’

  ‘All right,’ his former lover said, her voice wistful. ‘I’d like that.’ Then her voice hardened. ‘I can’t believe you’ve got us into another shooting match, Alex. Now do you understand why I left you?’

  ‘That’s not why you left,’ he said, turning away from Xanthakos. ‘Listen, I’m standing under a statue of Persephone. She was all her mother Demeter cared about. I understand that now. Do you get my drift?’

  ‘I . . . yes, I do. All right, we’ll talk. Just make sure you come back without any extra holes in your sorry carcass.’ Niki terminated the call.

  ‘Shit,’ the policeman said, from the temple entrance. ‘We’re about to have company.’

  The Fat Man stepped forward, hand on Akis’s nape. ‘Oh, good,’ he said, with a wide grin.

  The Son was sitting in the Fiat outside Niki Glezou’s apartment block in Palaio Faliro in southern Athens. There were no lights on and he couldn’t be sure whether she was in and asleep, or out. It didn’t matter. He would wait for as long as it took. He could survive for days without sleep, having trained himself with the help of the Bulgarian – the latter recommended amphetamines, but the Son avoided drugs. Instead, he swallowed a laugh. His body was a temple, but not one to Demeter, Persephone or Hades. The idiocies of his fellow Greeks no longer surprised him, but worshipping the Olympian gods was seriously ridiculous. Even the Father’s ancestor worship hadn’t gone that far.

  Then his phone rang. He straightened his back in the uncomfortable seat.

  ‘Find a public phone and call me NOW!’

  The Son would normally have walked in case he lost the parking space, but the bandages on his wounds would attract attention. He drove down the street and headed for the suburb’s centre. There was a phone outside some shops, deserted at this time of night. He rang the number he had memorised.

  ‘Where the fuck are you?’ Brigadier Kriaras demanded. ‘I told you to get in touch after you’d finished at the hospital.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me Alex Mavros was involved,’ the Son said stonily.

  ‘Mavros?’

  ‘Don’t play dumb. Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘I . . . thought it would distract you.’

  The Son gave a hollow laugh. ‘Did you? Thanks for the vote of confidence. You know what? You can stuff the second half of my payment up your haemorroidal arse. I’m otherwise engaged.’

  ‘Wait!’ There was panic in the brigadier’s voice. ‘For God’s sake, wait. All right, I agree I should have told you about him. I only found out when I saw him on TV a couple of days ago.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, things are complicated. I would have told you later.’

  ‘Later? That wouldn’t have been much use if I’d come up against the fucker. He and his friends almost killed me and the Father the last time I saw him.’

  ‘What if I offer an increased fee?’

  ‘What if I find out your home address?’

  There was a protracted silence.

  ‘Ten per cent,’ Kriaras said.

  ‘Fifty.’

  ‘Twenty-five. On the balance only.’

  ‘I’ll soon know where you live.’

  ‘Very well, thirty. On the whole fee’

  ‘On condition that I do what I like with Mavros, anyone with him and anyone in his family.’

  ‘I can’t give you immunity from—’

  ‘I’m coming to visit . . .’

  ‘All right! Try not to turn it into a total slaughter. As for now – here’s what you have to do.’

  The Son listened carefully, concentrating on the salient points, and then hung up. Mavros’s girlfriend was temporarily off the hook. He would deal with her when he came back from Viotia.

  ‘Back down the tunnel
!’ Telemachos Xanthakos ordered.

  ‘Bugger that,’ the Fat Man and Lambis Bitsos said, in unison.

  ‘How many vehicles?’ Mavros asked.

  ‘Just one.’

  ‘We should be able to handle them, even if there are four or five heavies. Yiorgo, gag the fisherman. Then put out the torches and take cover. Telemache, you hide behind Hades, I’ll get behind Persephone. Lambi, you and the Fat Man go to the beginning of the tunnel. We’ll let them come towards you, then surround them.’

  ‘They’ll probably have guns,’ Bitsos said, realising what he’d got himself into.

  ‘Well, we’d better relieve the tossers of them,’ Mavros said, taking one of the still hot torches. ‘These should help.’

  They waited in the darkness, aware that the smoke from the brands would make it obvious people had been present, at least until very recently. The vehicle revved hard as it came up the final slope. Then cautious footsteps sounded on the marble steps. A high-power electric torch was shone round the interior of the temple.

  ‘Any of the worshippers been up here again?’ Kloutsis asked.

  ‘Dunno. D’you want me to call?’

  ‘No, forget it.’

  ‘You don’t think those wankers in the cage could have got out?’ said a third man.

  ‘We’d better check,’ Kloutsis said, shining his beam on the walls. ‘Someone’s taken the torches.’

  ‘Maybe there are rescuers down the tunnel,’ said the second man. They seemed to be three in total – unless more were waiting outside.

  ‘Rescuers?’ Kloutsis scoffed, leading them forward. ‘Who could have found them?’

  ‘Hades himself,’ said Mavros, in a deep voice, as he swung the brand at the lead villain.

  Kloutsis screamed as the hot tar hit his face. Xanthakos rammed his pistol into the rear man’s back, making him drop his own weapon. At the same time, Lambis Bitsos ran forward and drove his unlit torch into the second man’s belly. There was a squeal when he grabbed the pitch with both hands. Mavros picked up his gun and electric torch, along with those Kloutsis had been carrying. Then he went to the entrance of the temple and looked out carefully. There was no one else by the Japanese 4x4.

  ‘Right,’ he said, ‘we’re in the clear, at least for now. Let’s get these tossers down to the cage.’

  ‘What about the lock I blew apart?’ the policeman asked.

  ‘Good point. All right, we’ll shred their clothes and tie them up out of sight down the tunnel.’

  ‘Gag them, too,’ the Fat Man said, with relish.

  The three men all wore belts, so securing their legs was easy. Their arms were lashed behind their backs with strips of their shirts, the remains of which were balled up and rammed into their mouths. Finally, they were tied together, making it almost impossible for them to crawl.

  When they were back in the temple, Bitsos indicated the already silenced fisherman and asked, ‘What about him?’

  ‘You and Yiorgos go back with him to Kypseli on the boat,’ Mavros said. ‘Deputy Commissioner Xanthakos and I are going to find Poulos and the Bekaki.’

  ‘Shouldn’t we stick together?’ the Fat Man asked.

  ‘The boat isn’t big enough for all of us. Besides, we need a reserve team. If Telemachos and I don’t reappear, get Lykos to call his aunt. She’ll mobilize the Party.’

  Yiorgos raised an eyebrow but went along with that. Mavros gave him and Bitsos a pistol each, keeping one for himself. Now they were all armed.

  ‘Good luck,’ the Fat Man said, embracing Mavros, who almost fainted in shock.

  Bitsos patted him on the shoulder. ‘Stay alive, Alex. This is going to be the story of the decade.’

  Mavros watched them head off around the hillside.

  ‘What’s the plan?’ the deputy commissioner asked.

  ‘We drive down to the plant and see if there are any flash cars in the vicinity. If so, we go in. You can wave your ID and arrest the bastards for abducting and imprisoning me and Bitsos. If the VIPs aren’t here, which I think is likely – look at the state of this hellhole – they’ll be in Paradheisos. Unless they’ve gone back to the big city, of course. We’ll drive around till we find Bekakos’s Porsche or any other rich man’s car. I haven’t noticed too many in the town.’

  ‘OK.’ Xanthakos took the radio from his belt.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘Calling for backup.’

  ‘Are you out of your mind? Your chief will hear of it and he’ll be straight on to Brigadier Kriaras.’

  The policeman shook his head. ‘I can’t believe a senior officer – let alone one on the Games security committee – is involved in this. You haven’t seen him here, have you?’

  ‘No, of course not. He keeps his hands clean.’ Mavros took the radio and switched it off. ‘If we find the VIPs, you can call for local help, all right?’

  ‘What the devil am I doing, taking orders from a private dick?’

  Mavros extended an arm and moved it over the reddened terrain and buildings below them. The lights cast eerie shadows from the chimney stacks and piles of ore.

  ‘This is the devil’s domain, my friend. If you clean it up, you’ll be on the fast track – not even Kriaras will be able to stop you. The place is killing people.’ Mavros dropped his arm. ‘But that’s not all. The shit heads who own and run it are doing something even worse.’ That made him think of his client. Taking Xanthakos’s phone again, he called her.

  ‘Mr Mavros,’ Angie Poulou lisped, the noise of a car engine in the background. ‘Thank God. I was beginning to think you had disappeared into thin air like Lia.’

  ‘Are you all right?’ Mavros asked.

  ‘A man attacked me.’

  ‘What? Who? Where?’

  ‘You’re confusing me. It happened in my home. I think . . . I think Paschos put him up to it.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I managed to see him off. I lost a lot of teeth, that’s why I can’t talk properly.’

  ‘Describe your assailant.’

  ‘A big man, not old, probably late twenties. Short blonde hair. Very self-assured. He tried to make it look as if I slashed my wrists in the bath. I . . . I cut off part of his ear.’

  ‘Christ. Are you on the way to hospital?

  ‘No, I’m coming to Paradheisos. I want to confront Paschos. I’m sure he knows where Lia is.’

  ‘We need to do that together. Where are you?’

  ‘Just past Thiva.’

  ‘All right, I’m with a policeman I trust. Call this number when you’ve gone through Dhistomo. We’ll arrange a meet.’ Mavros had a thought. ‘Where does your husband usually stay when he’s down here?’

  ‘There’s a guest house in the pink sector for senior management – at the far end of Isiodhou Street.’

  ‘I’ve been wanting to ask you something. Did Lia often come down to Paradheisos?’

  ‘Several times in the winter and early spring.’ Angie Poulou paused. ‘With Paschos. She said she was doing a geography project. Oh, God.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I have a terrible feeling about . . . about my husband and . . . and Lia.’

  Mavros confirmed the arrangements, extracting a promise from his client that she wouldn’t act alone. He turned to Xanthakos.

  ‘I think I know where they are.’ He gazed down at the infernal nightscape, and then glanced into the temple. ‘Screw the devil. We’re in Hades’ kingdom and we have to get out.’

  The policeman laughed harshly. ‘You know how many people managed that in the myths? Persephone doesn’t count as she was a goddess.’

  ‘Em, Heracles.’

  ‘Semi-divine.’

  ‘Orpheus.’

  ‘Ditto.’

  ‘I know,’ Mavros said, taking out the key he’d removed from Kloutsis and heading to the 4x4, ‘Theseus.’

  ‘True,’ Xanthakos said. ‘But he had to leave his friend Peirithoos behind for eternity.’

  ‘Great,’
Mavros said, as he started the engine. ‘We’ll toss for it.’

  The policeman raised an eyebrow and laughed, but not for long.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  The Fat Man was less than impressed. Not only had he scraped his knees several times on the way back to the boat, but a wind got up and he’d been drenched frequently by sea water on the voyage to Kypseli. Fortunately, the fight seemed to have gone out of Akis Exarchos and he sat glumly at the tiller. Then again, Bitsos was pointing a pistol at the fisherman’s belly. When they passed the mole and Akis cut the engine revs, Yiorgos raised his own pistol, aware that the approach to the pier would be the fisherman’s last opportunity to put one over them in his natural element. As it happened, Akis drew alongside smoothly and slipped a rope round a bollard compliantly enough.

  Bitsos looked across the square to the lights in the ecologists’ office. ‘They’re back,’ he said, swallowing a laugh as the Fat Man made an unsteady landing. He poked the pistol into the fisherman’s back. ‘Come on, you. Time to tell your friends you’re a rat.’

  The trio walked to the office. The shutters were closed, although lines of light came through the gaps in the slats.

  ‘They’ll be on edge about the Son,’ Bitsos said. ‘You’d better make friendly noises to the Party cadres.’

  Yiorgos nodded and knocked on the door, identifying himself with a line from Das Capital. ‘Akis is with us, too,’ he added.

  There was a rattle of bolts and the door opened. Lykos stood back to allow them entry, a long knife in one hand. One of the black-clad Communists was with him, holding a length of wood.

  ‘That smells good,’ the journalist said, glancing at the Fat Man, who was also sniffing the air.

  ‘Where’s Alex?’ Lykos asked, on his guard when he saw the gun in the fisherman’s back. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Your friend here sold us out,’ Bitsos said. ‘He took the HMC’s money. As a result, Mavros and I were imprisoned underground and left to die.’

  Another of the cadres appeared from the back room. He glanced at the new arrivals suspiciously. ‘The food’s ready,’ he said.

  Lykos went toe to toe with Akis. ‘You took their stinking money? Get the fuck out of here.’

  ‘No,’ Yiorgos said. ‘Not until Alex comes back safe and sound.’