Comrade Rybacek said that he and his two senior assistants had been just about to sit down to their midday meal, and he would be delighted if Comrade Sebesta and Witold would join them. It then emerged that the mythical Comrade Zdenek, for whom Stephanie had enquired, was not one of the group and that Comrade Rybacek did not recall his name as that of one of the hundred-odd passengers who had sailed in the Bratislava but, no doubt, he was in one of the other islands.
Stephanie, having introduced Robbie as a Pole, protected him from discovery, through his accent, that he was not a Czech. He readily accepted Comrade Rybacek's invitation and they spent the next hour very pleasantly with the three Czech engineers in a little house which for many generations had been occupied by a Greek family of modest means.
During the meal, Stephanie kept up her role as Krajcir's principal assistant by mentioning Havelka, Najedly and Barak with the respect due to Party bosses, but implying that she was well acquainted with them. She then asked innocently how the work was going.
It was Rybacek who replied: 'As well as can be expected, Comrade, since we are working with an entirely new type of machinery. But, no doubt, our scientists know what they are up to and we shall strike oil in due course.'
From his answer it was impossible to guess if he really believed that his group was prospecting for oil by some new process, or if he was in the confidence of his superiors and blandly maintaining their cover plan. However, both on their way into the house and out of it, Robbie and Stephanie had ample opportunity for a good look around.
The plant being used was exactly similar to that at Pirgos: a single, hollow pylon formed of steel struts, inside it the big screw piercing the earth, nearby a crane for hoisting the weighty sections of screw into position and a powerful engine for driving down the screw; a light railway with tip trucks to run the excavated earth into the sea, and a pile of fifty or more as yet unused screw sections. At these Robbie was able to get a closer look than at those at Pirgos and he saw that, instead of being solid screws, they were more like drainpipes with spirals on their outside. The six-foot lengths were about a foot in diameter, and of that foot eight inches were hollow.
Having said good-bye to their hosts, they saw, as they walked back to their car, that another car had drawn up behind it and that a young man was talking to Tino. In that lonely spot, so difficult of access except by sea, they naturally supposed that he belonged to the Czech group working there; but as they approached, he hailed them cheerfully in English, with a strong American accent.
'Hullo, folks! What goes on around here?'
Robbie, who had constantly to remind himself that he was supposed to be a Swiss, tried to make his voice as guttural as he could, and replied: 'I understand they prospect for oil.'
'Is that so, now,' the American smiled. He looked about thirty, was tallish, loose-limbed and had crew-cut fair hair. Extending a muscular hand, he added: 'Let me introduce myself. My name is Mahogany Brown—Henry Mahogany Brown.'
As he caught the flicker of surprise in Robbie's eyes, his smile broadened to a grin and he went on: 'Funny name, Mahogany, isn't it? Just a quirk of humour on the part of my old Dad. I've two brothers and he called them Elliot Walnut Brown and James Satinwood Brown. I got Mahogany, but I'm Henry to my friends.'
Robbie shook the outstretched hand, gave his name as Max Th£vanaz and introduced Stephanie as his wife. Mr. Mahogany Brown jerked a thumb in the direction of the castle far above them and asked: 'Been up to the top?'
'Yes,' Stephanie replied. 'The view is marvellous, isn't it? And all this wild, unspoilt country is absolutely beautiful.'
'It certainly is,' he agreed, 'and, if I may be allowed to say so, Mr. Thevanaz, it's made just that bit more beautiful by the presence of your lady.'
That was just the sort of compliment Robbie was always wanting to pay Stephanie, yet never managed to, and it annoyed him that a complete stranger should get away with it so glibly. But he hid his feelings with a smile as the American went on: 'It's all the more pity that these vandals here should be allowed to spoil the bay with their pylon, though it doesn't look to me the sort of gear that's used for drilling oil.'
'They are using, I think, a new process,' Robbie informed him.
For some minutes they continued talking. Apparently Mr. Mahogany Brown had seen the Czech working site from the ruined castle, and idle curiosity had brought him down to find out what was going on. It then transpired that he, too, was staying at the Hotel des Roses; so when he left them to go back to his car, he gave a cheery wave and cried: 'I'll be seeing you.'
Slowly the two cars made their way back up the narrow, stony track, then the American put on speed and left the other car behind. Tino, still determined to show his passengers as much of his lovely country as he could, drove them back by a different route, via Petaloudes, so that they might see the famous Valley of Butterflies. It was a delightful glen with several waterfalls and, as they walked through it, there rose a pinkish-grey cloud, formed by the myriads of butterflies that breed there year after year.
Soon after they got back to the hotel Robbie wrote to Luke, describing as exactly as possible all that he had seen on the Czech site. He then added a final paragraph:
By this time, you will have seen from the papers that the police are looking for me. Although they have not so far disclosed it, I have good reason to believe that, if they catch me, they may bring a very serious charge against me. For this reason, I am staying here under the name of Max Thevanaz. The fact is that 1 have landed myself in a very dangerous situation and about my only hope of getting out of it is if it can be proved that the Czechs activities are some form of preparation for a war against the West. There are two ways in which you can help me in this. The first is that, should the particulars I have listed above give you any idea what the Czechs may be doing, you lei me know immediately as I will then do my best to check up on it. It is in the hope that you will have some idea that I can work on that I mean to keep my freedom as long as possible. The other thing is that you should pass on such information as I have secured to the police and persuade them to start an investigation. With this threat of war, there is every possible justification for their doing so; and if they do find out that the Czechs are up to no good, that would let me out. I really am in a bad spot and shall be eternally grateful for anything you can do to help.
In his letter he purposely refrained from telling Luke what had actually happened, so that it could not be said later that he had known both that Robbie was wanted by the police for having killed Cepicka and Robbie's whereabouts, yet had failed to inform the police. Stephanie knew how much Robbie wanted to pour out the whole story to his friend but, on reading through the letter, she agreed that it would not be right to compromise him. Having sealed the letter and marked it 'Private', Robbie took it down to the Post Office himself, to make certain that it would catch the air mail for Athens next morning and, when it reached the capital, go by express delivery.
That evening after dinner Mr. Mahogany Brown, dressed in a smart tuxedo, came up to their table, asked Stephanie if she would like to dance and, on her replying that she would, suggested that they all move into the ballroom. The two hours that followed were miserable ones for Robbie. The American danced with practised ease and Stephanie obviously enjoyed partnering him. Robbie knew only too well that he could not compete. He felt, too, that it was one thing to flounder cheerfully round a little night-club in Patras, and quite another to make an exhibition of himself in a ballroom, with several score of sophisticated people looking on. Even when, having danced twice with the slim, loose-limbed Mr. Brown, Stephanie asked him if he wouldn't like to dance, he said that he preferred to watch. Yet he could not altogether dislike their new acquaintance and when Stephanie, to get herself half an hour to undress, suggested that the two men have a last drink together, he found that the American had a seemingly endless repertoire of funny stories.