‘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 willwork,’ 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.
He turned to the actress. ‘I’d like to ask your assistant some questions. I’m still unclear about what happened in the village.’
‘I can’t remember,’ Maria Kondos said firmly. ‘The police inspector was here this morning. He didn’t ask many questions.’
‘Margaritis?’
Cara Parks nodded.
Mavros wondered about that. Then again, the police hadn’t been told about the fight on the road, so his interest in a forbidding woman who remembered nothing about her disappearance wouldn’t have been huge.
‘Do you speak Greek?’ he asked, trying another angle.
‘A bit,’ Maria replied. ‘My parents spoke it at home, but I lost most of it when I went to the West Coast. Why?’
‘I was wondering if you’d heard anything when you were in Kornaria.’
‘I told you, I can’t remember a thing.’
‘Even why you walked out of the resort on your own on Sunday evening?’
‘I imagine I wanted some fresh air.’
Mavros kept on at her. ‘Someone called your mobile from a phone registered to Vasilios Dhrakakis in Kornaria on Sunday evening, not long before you left the Heavenly Blue. Have you no recollection of that?’
‘The name means nothing to me,’ Maria replied, her eyes meeting his.
Mistake, he thought. She thought she could take him on, but he had too much experience of liars. He let it go for the time being and turned the heat up another way.
‘Are you aware that the driver who helped me get you away from the men who were pursuing you is now involved in a vendetta? As am I.’
‘Alex!’ the actress said, shocked. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Not your problem. Besides, what could you do?’
She glared at him. ‘Get the production’s lawyers involved, the American consul.’
‘Yeah, that’s going to help.’
‘All right, if it’s money you need, I’ll give you it.’ She glanced at the other woman. ‘After all, you saved my precious Maria.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll sort it out,’ Mavros said, with considerably more bluster than he felt. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be on set?’
‘This afternoon,’ Cara said. ‘Now I’m going to take Maria back to the hotel.’
‘Let me escort you down.’
‘No, that’s not your job,’ the actress said, calling her bodyguards on her phone.
Mavros looked at Maria Kondos. Why wasn’t she talking? Was she protecting someone in Kornaria? Or could it be that she was less of a victim than she appeared?
He didn’t have a clue.
Mavros watched as one of the gorillas loaded the wheelchair into the boot of the Mercedes, while the other helped Maria into the back seat.
As Mikis was on the way across the street, Mavros’s mobile rang.
‘This is Hildegard Kersten, Alex. I really need your help.’ The old woman sounded close to panic.
‘What’s happened?’
‘It’s Rudi. He’s slipped away from the resort. Don’t worry, it’s not like that woman. I know where he’s heading — to that damned massacre set. But he won’t answer his phone and I don’t know who’s driving him.’
Mavros moved to the Jeep, beckoning to Mikis to follow.
‘I’ll check with the car-hire company while we’re on our way to the set. I’ll let you know as soon as I see him.’
‘Thank you,’ Hildegard said. ‘I’m going over there now myself.’
‘Are you sure that’s a good idea? Your husband presumably wants to be there without you.’
There was a pause. ‘Very well. You are correct. I will stay in the apartment. Goodbye.’
Mavros addressed Mikis. ‘Can you ask your old man if any of your drivers is taking Rudolf Kersten to the massacre set?’
‘My mother’s in charge of dispatch,’ Mikis said. It took him under a minute to confirm that Yerasimos had been hailed by Kersten outside the hotel. He had advised that they were at the Black Bird.
‘The Black Bird?’ Mavros said. ‘What’s that?’
‘The German paratroopers’ memorial on the way to Maleme. It was put up during the war.’
‘And it’s still there?’ Mavros asked, amazed.
‘Yes. People left it as a memorial of Cretan suffering, I think, even though some call it the Evil Bird. The only thing they did was knock off the swastika the bird was holding.’
Mikis answered his phone and spoke briefly. ‘That was Yerasimos. They’re on the move again, heading west.’
Mavros considered calling Kersten, but he had the feeling the old man had reasons of his own for attending the filming and he didn’t think it was his place to interfere. He wanted to see the shoot himself, and he was also interested to see if David Waggoner would be present. He wasn’t going to tell him that Kanellos was his father, but he might be able to get more information about Spyros’s activities on Crete, even from a biased participant. He rang Hildegard Kersten and said that her husband was in a Tsifakis company car and being well looked after. She didn’t sound happy, but she was grateful for the news.
Mikis’s phone rang again several minutes later.
‘Yerasimos again,’ he said, after cutting the connection. ‘Mr Kersten is at Makrymari.’
‘The real massacre village?’
‘Correct. Do you want me to head there?’
‘If you can get us there without him seeing me.’
‘Done.’ Mikis took the next left off the main road and followed a narrow track through the orange trees. ‘This takes us round the back of the village.’
The leaves filtered the bright sunlight and the temperature was suddenly lower. It was a bucolic scene, the plump oranges weighing down the branches and the ground beneath covered with dark-red dust. Mavros thought of the early days of the war, when the paratroopers had been caught in the foliage and killed before they could untangle themselves. In the midst of beauty had been death. And his father. .
Makrymari was a small village, the white houses shaded by vines and oleanders. The buildings were all in good condition. A few hens clucked to their chicks.
‘There isn’t much to see here,’ Mikis said, pulling in behind a bulky pickup. ‘Only the memorial.’
Mavros walked forward slowly, taking in a curved wall in the middle of the fourth, open side of the square. Rudolf Kersten was on his knees in front of it, his head bowed. Mavros retreated behind a eucalyptus tree and waited until the old man had got up unsteadily and left a small bunch of wild flowers on the ground in front of the wall. The German then went back to the Mercedes at the far end of the square and got in, Yerasimos holding the rear door open.
When the car had turned and disappeared, Mavros walked through the uncut grass, past the spot where Kersten’s knees had crushed it, to the rough stone wall. Looking along, he realized what it represented. There were names at chest height every metre or so. Beneath them were dates of birth and death, the latter all being June 3rd 1941.
‘It’s the line of the executed,’ Mikis said.
‘I got that.’ Mavros looked at the name above the flowers — poppies that were already wilting, crown daisies and a couple of gladioli — and got a shock. ‘Aikaterini tou Pavlou Alivizaki,’ he read. A woman.