‘I have no plans to visit Copenhagen at present, but if I do ever go, I shall remember your warning about the temperature.’
The young man from the embassy ignored Adam’s remark. He continued to polish the brass on his sleeves.
‘Not that Athens is much better,’ he said. ‘Choking in dust in summer, drowning in mud in winter.’
‘But surely proximity to the glory that was Greece is worth a bit of discomfort, Samways, is it not?’ Fields said, drily.
‘Not too sure about that, Professor.’ Samways tucked his handkerchief back into the top pocket of his blazer. ‘You may keep the glory that was Greece, in my humble opinion. Smacks too much of the classroom. Your natural habitat, of course. Myself, I can’t wait to get a posting to somewhere with a climate that agrees with me more.’
He smiled at Adam and the professor with a look of immense self-satisfaction on his face, as if he was expecting them to rush to agree with him that the glories of Greece were much overrated.
‘And where would you prefer to be posted, Mr Samways?’ Adam asked.
‘Ah, there you have me, old boy.’ Samways was still inspecting the gleaming brass buttons on his sleeves, moving his arms to admire the light flashing off them. ‘Paris is obviously out. Still surrounded by Bismarck’s bully-boys. No doubt the French will be at each other’s throats before long. Murdering one another in their beds and that kind of thing. As is their wont. I’m none too fond of any variety of jabbering foreigner, if truth be told, but Johnny Crapaud quite takes the biscuit, don’t he?’
Satisfied that his buttons were shining with sufficient brightness, the diplomat hauled another white cambric handkerchief from his trouser pocket and began to wipe beads of sweat from his brow. His thoughts were still running on his next posting. ‘Vienna? Berlin? Germany seems to be quite the coming place, don’t it? Wouldn’t mind going anywhere I shan’t have to deal with all these tourist pilgrims mooching about with a volume of Homer in one pocket and Byron’s verse in the other.’
‘I would have thought that tourists would be in short supply after the Dilessi affair,’ the professor said, doing little to disguise his low opinion of Samways. ‘Few things do so much to deter the average traveller as kidnap, murder and brigandage.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. Being captured by brigands isn’t all bad, you know,’ the diplomat said cheerfully, as if he was planning on being abducted himself in the near future if only he could find the time in his busy calendar. ‘Bags of fresh air to breathe and fresh game to eat. Set of picturesque rogues for company. Then, when family and friends get the money together for a ransom and aforementioned picturesque rogues release you, you’ve got a story to dine out on for years to come.’
‘The poor devils who were murdered at Dilessi would probably disagree with you,’ Fields said pointedly.
‘Oh, no doubt, no doubt.’ Samways waved a languid hand in the air. ‘Always exceptions to any rule. Poor Herbert and Vyner just had the most terrible bad luck. Problems with the ransom money and all that.’
‘And yet the countryside will still be dangerous for travellers.’
‘Safe enough for Englishmen, if you want my humble opinion. Despite all this Dilessi business. It’s not often a Greek’s going to take a potshot at you. For one thing, he’s aware of the fact that nine times out of ten either he’s going to miss or his gun won’t go off. Whereas, if you take a potshot back at him, the likelihood is the gun will go off and you won’t miss.’ Much to the irritation of both Adam and the professor, Samways continued to be fascinated by the buttons on his blue jacket and was still moving his arm back and forth as if to find the point at which they glinted most attractively in the sun. Fields glared at him like a schoolmaster about to rap a naughty pupil’s knuckles smartly with a wooden ruler. ‘Not to mention all the infernal fuss caused if an Englishman does get himself killed. Herbert and Vyner are shot and look what happens. People galloping like mad hither and yon. Arrests and beatings by the dozen. The game’s not worth the candle. As I say, those chaps were just damned unlucky.’
Fields, whose face had been turning a peculiar shade of red as he listened to Samways, looked likely to roar at the embassy man in reply. Adam, noticing the professor’s poorly suppressed rage, hastened to intervene.
‘Dilessi has undoubtedly been the scene of a tragedy,’ he said smoothly, ‘and yet it is not the subject we came here to discuss. If I understand the professor correctly, you are the one man in Athens who may be able to help us. In our quest for manuscripts. We need the help of someone like yourself who knows the town inside out.’
Adam’s flattery worked. Samways’s delight in being considered the one man in Athens capable of offering assistance was obvious. His self-regard, already enormous, visibly increased. He drew himself up to his full height and looked around the lobby of the embassy as if inviting the admiring glances of anyone who might be passing through it.
‘If I say so myself, I have become something of an authority on the place. I may not like the town but I’m here now. Representing queen and country and all that. So I reckon it’s my duty to learn all I can about it.’
Fields made a strange snorting noise. Adam was once more swift to speak.
‘Your knowledge of Athens and its inhabitants will doubtless prove invaluable to us. We are looking for someone to advise us on the sale of ancient manuscripts. A Greek, if possible. Perhaps someone from your large acquaintance in the city springs to mind?’
‘Been thinking about that since the prof first spoke to me the other day.’ Samways beamed at his two visitors. ‘It seems to me that the man you need is Alexander Rallis.’
Fields made a heroic attempt to control his temper. ‘And who is this Rallis?’ he demanded.
‘He’s a decent sort,’ Samways said. ‘About as close to a gentleman as you’re likely to get in Athens.’
‘We have certainly met very few gentlemen since we arrived in the city,’ Fields said, pointedly. ‘Either Greek or English.’
‘What more can you tell us about him?’ Adam asked, hurriedly.
‘Not a lot, old boy.’ Samways had entirely missed any hint of irritation or innuendo in the professor’s comment. ‘His father was a government minister back in the days of Good King Otto. Left politics after Otto was forced to abdicate and head back to Bavaria. Rallis senior retired to his estates outside Athens.’
‘And what of Rallis junior?’
‘He’s a lawyer. Greek lawyers usually cause nothing but trouble, but he don’t. Quite the reverse. He’s even helped us with some tricky business.’
‘Why should we have need of a Greek lawyer?’ Fields asked, the little patience he had been able to muster for their conversation with Samways ebbing away. ‘We have no intention of falling foul of the law while we are in Greece. We are here to investigate the country’s antiquities. As I told you, Samways, we are looking for manuscripts.’
‘Absolutely. That’s why Rallis is your man.’
‘We don’t want legal manuscripts.’ Fields raised his voice in his annoyance.
‘No need to get in a bait, Professor.’ Samways seemed to notice the older man’s simmering temper for the first time. ‘Alexander’s not just a lawyer. That’s the point. Did I not say? He’s a bit of a scholar as well. Has some connection with the university, although I’m never quite certain what it is exactly. If anyone knows where to find musty old parchments with Greek poetry and whatnot on them — and I understand that’s what you’re looking for — then Rallis does.’
Adam glanced at Fields. The professor’s intense irritation with the embassy man seemed to have rendered him unexpectedly speechless. His eyes spoke volumes but his lips were clamped shut. It was, Adam thought, best that they should remain so.