The Greek Key

'And have you ever heard a whisper as to who might have removed Andreas' body?'

The priest pulled at his beard, his eyes avoided Newman's. 'It is a mystery,' he eventually replied. 'And now I must return if you will excuse me.'

'The whole business is peculiar,' Newman responded.

He stared round the scrub-covered platform. Very little cover for a raiding party which must have relied on the mist to reach the shelter of the mountain. Doubtless Andreas had known ways of penetrating the fastness. Marler was walking towards them at a jaunty pace, rifle propped over his shoulder, as Newman stared once again upwards. What a life – confined most of your days inside that fortress-like complex perched half-way to the sky. A large bird, probably an eagle, drifted off a tongue of rock and circled them high up.

'Can you take me back to Athens in that car?' Christina asked Newman. 'My cousins drove me up here in an old Cadillac. I have been abandoned.'

'All the way to Athens?' Newman queried in surprise.

'I'm not going back to the Devil's Valley – to where Petros is waiting to beat hell out of me. I've finished with that life.' She moved closer to him, her eyes enormous. 'I will pay for my passage. The last ferry leaves in two hours. You will take me? Please.'

'And how will you pay me?' Newman enquired ironically, expecting a certain answer. She had lowered her voice so only he could hear her.

'With information. About Harry Masterson.'

'You just bought yourself a one-way ticket.'

Marler arrived, brushed dirt off his jacket, grinned at Christina. 'You get around, little lady.'

She walked slowly up to him, a half-smile on her face. 'We met earlier, you may recall…'

'How could I forget?' He smiled sardonically.

'I do not forget either. I have something for you, Marler. A keepsake. Is that not the right word?'

She was still smiling when her right hand whipped up, palm open, and hit him with all her considerable force across the face. The blow jerked his head sideways. She smiled again, watching the red weal which had appeared across his cheek,

'Now we are quits. Is that not the right phrase?' She turned to Newman. 'Now, I am ready when you are.'

The priest had lingered with Spyros a few yards away, as though reluctant to leave. His expression was a study in indecision. He seemed to make up his mind suddenly and walked to within a few feet of Newman. He took a deep breath before he uttered the words and then walked rapidly away towards the mountain.

'The disappearance of that body. There was something else on the island when it vanished, I suggest you look in that direction. I refer to the Greek Key.'

18

Nick drove the Mercedes back along the far side of the mountain, much to Newman's relief when he saw the ground beyond the brink sloped away gradually. It had been his idea to use this route after talking with Christina.

Those two hard cases, Dimitrios and Constantine,' he pointed out to Marler before they started back, 'will travel in their Cadillac to Siros port. Then they'll ditch the car and fly back in their chopper. They landed on open ground just outside Siros according to Christina. They came here in that machine which overflew our ferry.'

'What's the plan?' Marler demanded.

'If we can catch up with that Cadillac I'd like a few words with them – and I guess you would. This time with our fists, Petros has to be discouraged from sending his jackals after us. I don't want to spend the rest of our time in

Greece looking over our shoulders. When we get back to Athens I want a quiet talk with Christina on her own, I'm sure she has more information.'

'Why not me? I've known the girl a bit longer…'

'Oh, yes!' Newman's tone was ironical. 'You got to know her so well she pasted you one.'

'It was the only way I could hope to get her to talk…'

'It was the only way you thought you could get her to talk – and she didn't.'

'It's just possible you could be right,' Marler admitted reluctantly. He felt his face. 'She's a beauty bat she packs a rare punch…'

'Which you richly deserved. Let's get over to the car.'

'May I enquire what is the next object of the exercise with her?'

'Christina met Harry Masterson in London, probably pointed him to Exmoor and those three ex-commandos, Why? Only she can tell me. So, old boy,' Newman went on, mimicking Marler, 'I'd appreciate it if from now on you leave the beauty to me. And on the way back we'd better assume those two thugs may be waiting to ambush us.'

They arranged the seating to anticipate the worst. Marler, loaded rifle across his lap, sat in front next to Nick. In the rear they placed Newman, Christina – sitting in the middle – and Spyros occupied the other corner. The hunchback was apologetic as Nick drove away from the plateau, heading for the far side of the mountain.

'I was not a great help to you, Mr Newman. The priest told you everything.'

'Everything? Are you sure about that? Who took away Andreas' body? And what is the Greek Key?'

'Don't ask me that.' The hunchback shuddered, clasped his veined hands tightly. 'I know nothing about such things.'

'But I do.' Christina pressed her shoulder against Newman, turned and gazed at him. 'Maybe later, when we are alone, the two of us should talk.'

'I'd welcome that.' Newman stared back at her. 'You speak very good English.'

'That was my mother's doing. I was lucky enough to be well-educated. And sometimes I think that is why my cousins – and Petros – hate me. They are still men of the soil. They think like peasants, behave like them. My mother was left money by a distant relative. She banked it secretly. Petros was furious. One night she packed me off to Zurich. To a school. I found I was good at languages. As well as Greek I speak German and English. I took a law degree. Then I made a mistake.'

'Which was?'

'I came back for my mother's funeral. Petros insisted I must pay my respects by staying in Devil's Valley for a time. Like a fool I agreed. Time went by. They all made me think their way. Now I have had enough of them for two lifetimes. We will talk later.'

Spyros had produced something from under his floppy jacket. Newman heard a strange sound, glanced across Christina. Spyros was clicking a length of black worry beads. His expression was anxious. Newman looked out of the window. The view was spectacular: a vast panorama stretching all the way down across the island to the sickle-shaped harbour.

There was tension inside the car. As they approached each bend Marler leaned forward, gripping his rifle, alert for any sign of the Gavalas brothers. He had warned Nick to be ready for an emergency stop at any second. Nick kept wiping a hand dry, then grasping the wheel tightly, staring ahead while he crawled round the bends.

The worry beads stopped clicking. Newman remained quite still. Spyros leaned forward, staring in his direction. Newman went on gazing out of the window as the car continued its steep and tortuous descent. Now he could pick out individual boats berthed in Siros harbour.

'My cousin, Sarantis, is an archaeologist,' Spyros began. 'Is that the right word?'

'He goes on excavations – digging up ancient sites. A lot of them round the Plaka district in Athens,' Newman encouraged him.

'That is so. But Sarantis likes places where there are few of his kind. Like Cape Sounion. The Temple of Poseidon.'

'Sensible chap.' Newman forced himself to stay relaxed. 'So what about Sarantis?'

'He is very old. Like me. But he has a wonderful memory for faces. He was near Cape Sounion when the Englishman, Masterson, was thrown from the cliff not many weeks past.'

'He saw it happen?'

'No. But he did see the two men who went to the temple shortly before the killing.'

Two men? You are sure? You did say he was very old,' Newman reminded him gently.