Waggoner, Mavros thought. There was mention of his role in the battle on the Internet sites he’d trawled and in extracts from his books.
‘Kanellos realized from the start that it was a suicide mission, because the Germans had landed thousands of men by then. He tried to talk the gendarmes and the local citizens out of taking part, saying their efforts and their lives would be much more valuable in the future.’ The old Cretan blinked away tears. ‘He was right about that. The initial charge was a success, but within an hour they had all been cut down by Germans on the higher ground. Apart from a few wounded British at the rear, there were hardly any survivors. It was a tragedy and it is to Kanellos’s honour that he tried to avert it.’
‘Presumably Kanellos wasn’t his real name,’ Mavros said, his voice unsteady.
‘Of course not. The senior men all used aliases, even before the war.’
Mavros nodded. ‘And after that? Kanellos stayed throughout the occupation?’
‘Till the German surrender in Chania.’
Mavros looked across the space to the flat opposite, trying to keep calm. An old woman in a nightgown was playing listlessly with an overweight cat.
‘Did you ever hear of a hoard of silver that was found in a cave up in the mountains?’
Barba-Yannis gave him a sharp look. ‘How do you know about that, Mr Alex?’
Mavros gave him a shortened version of the story in Waggoner’s memoir.
‘Kanellos betrayed them?’ the old man said, his voice breaking. ‘Ridiculous. He would never have done a thing like that. He worked by persuasion, not betrayal. Some of those British agents were madmen,’ he continued. ‘Lambis — Waggoner — was one of the worst. He used to come down from the mountains and shoot Germans with the andartes. There were many reprisals.’
‘I thought the Cretans generally were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice to get rid of the Germans?’
Barba-Yannis looked at him thoughtfully. ‘You know, that’s the kind of bravado the mountain men still come out with. Of course, people were prepared to die for the cause of freedom. But not everyone agreed with old men and boys being put against a wall. That was Kanellos’s message: no sabotage unless it was a major target — most of those were so well guarded that you couldn’t get near them — and no civilian lives to be put at risk. Some of the British — Waggoner, especially — had different priorities.’
Mavros looked down. ‘Kanellos — describe him, will you?’
‘Medium height, thick black hair brushed back from his forehead, a hooked nose and a thick moustache.’ The old man raised a hand. ‘But most striking of all were his eyes — they were dark-blue and penetrating. You felt they could see all the way inside your soul. He was a wonderful man. I never saw him again after he left the island.’
Mavros’s phone chirruped. There was a message from the Fat Man asking him to call urgently. Mavros didn’t need to. He already knew Kanellos’s real name.
FOURTEEN
After the old caretaker had gone, Mavros called the Fat Man.
‘Kanellos was my father,’ he said, without any preamble.
‘How the hell did you. .’ Yiorgos broke off. ‘Oh, I get it. You do the work and get me to confirm it. That’s typ-’
‘Shut up!’ Mavros yelled. ‘Have you. . have you any idea what this means to me? I hardly knew my father before he died, none of us knew anything about what he did in the war. . or did you, Yiorgo?’
‘I swear on my mother’s grave I didn’t, Alex.’ The Fat Man’s tone was sombre now. ‘You know what the Party’s like about past operations. I only got a steer on Kanellos because someone owed me a very big favour.’
Mavros sat back in the armchair by the phone, his heart rate gradually slowing. He had been speaking to a man who had worked with his father, who had seen him when he was in his prime and who admired him. It was as if a familiar ghost that always kept its distance had suddenly come up behind him and whispered in his ear. The problem was, he couldn’t understand the words.
‘Alex? Are you all right?’
‘What do you think? My mind’s doing a passable imitation of a washing machine on spin cycle.’
‘What? Oh, I see. Look, I can try to find out more if you-’
‘Not now, Yiorgo. I’ve got enough to think about. I should really phone my mother, but that’ll have to wait. I need to talk to her in person.’
‘It isn’t bad news, Alex. From what I heard, Spyros did great work for the movement, like he did before and after the war. Your father was a hero, I’ve always told you that.’
‘A hero I didn’t know,’ Mavros muttered, ‘like my brother.’
‘Well, it seems you know him better now. Isn’t that a good thing?’
‘I need time to think about that. I’ll talk to you later.’ Mavros cut the connection and called Niki.
‘Hello, how are you?’ he asked.
She heard immediately that something had got to him. ‘What’s happened, Alex? Are you all right?’
‘Of course,’ he replied. He still wasn’t going to tell her anything about the men from Kornaria and the vendetta. ‘Tired, though. Listen, I might have to stay on a bit longer here. There are some more things I have to check out.’
Although Niki could be self-centred, she was good at picking up other people’s moods. ‘I thought you’d found the woman, Alex. Why don’t you come home? I’ll look after you, my love, I promise.’
Mavros was touched. ‘It won’t be long, I promise. Listen, I have to dash now. I’ll talk to you later.’
‘I love you,’ she said.
He repeated the words, with enough feeling to reassure her. He did love her, but he’d loved his father — the sad-eyed phantom — for much longer.
His mobile rang.
‘Do you want me to pick you up?’ Mikis asked. ‘I’m in the area.’
They arranged to meet at the corner of the street.
‘Christ and the Holy Mother, what’s happened to you?’ the young Cretan asked, as Mavros got into the Jeep.
‘Must have been something I ate.’
Mikis glanced at him dubiously before driving on. ‘Anything you feel like sharing?’
‘Not right now. Can you take me to the clinic?’
‘I’m heading there to check on the boys. I’ve talked the old man into letting me stick with you today. The film people are mostly over at the fake village they’ve built anyway.’
Mavros remembered the massacre scene that was due to be filmed. ‘Thanks. Maybe we’ll go there later.’ He kept silent for the rest of the short trip, trying to get his mind back on the Maria Kondos case.
There was a black Mercedes outside the clinic, with two bulky, besuited men inside, while the watchers’ Range Rover was in its usual place across the street. Mikis went over to talk to his friends.
Going up the stairs, Mavros knocked on the door of the private room. It was opened by Cara Parks.
‘Good morning, Alex,’ she said, the smile freezing on her lips. ‘What is it?’
‘Erm, some family news. Don’t worry, it won’t get in the way of anything.’
‘Well, you’re finished here, anyway,’ the actress said, extending an arm towards the patient, who was in a wheelchair. ‘Maria’s talking again and Dr Stavra. . Stavra. .’
‘Stavrakakis,’ he completed, with a weak smile.
‘Yes, he says that Maria can come back with me to the Heavenly Blue.’ Cara leaned over her assistant and kissed her on the forehead. ‘Not that she’s going to work, of course.’ She introduced Mavros and explained his role.
Maria Kondos nodded her thanks, though it was unclear if she recognized him, then turned to the actress. ‘I will work,’ she said, her voice surprisingly strong. ‘The only thing that’s wrong with me is my feet.’
‘Hold on a moment,’ Mavros said, stepping forwards. ‘What did the doctor say about your temporary inability to speak?’
Maria looked at Cara. ‘That it was shock-induced. Can we go now?’
Mavros was beginning to understand why the woman was disliked among the crew. She was haughty and brusque, clearly regarding him as a low-level servant.