The charts I’d used the day before lay where I’d left them on the table and next to them was one of the journals I’d been looking at. I saw the gap on the shelf where it came from and suddenly I was certain that I’d put it back there. It was open at the final page, dated September the year before. A typical entry describing a fruitless, and it appeared final, dive to search for the wreck of the Antounnetta.
When I went back on deck the air was soft and warm, absolutely still. By the light of the moon the hills around the harbour were silhouetted against the sky. The landscape was unfamiliar, the water black as oil. I tried to convince myself that I had disturbed some opportune thief but I felt uneasy, adrift in an alien environment.
PART TWO
TEN
I was up early in the morning. I hadn’t slept much with everything that had been spinning around in my head. When Irene came down I was sitting on the terrace applying some ointment I’d found in her cupboard. When she saw my shins she was horrified. Overnight they had turned the colour of an aubergine.
‘Robert, what happened? Did you have an accident?’
‘Not exactly.’ I told her about my late-night trip to the marina and about the intruder I’d disturbed on the Swallow.
‘He did this to you? Do you need to see a doctor?’
‘Actually I think it looks worse than it is. Nothing’s broken.’ I straightened up and winced from a sharp pain in my ribs.
‘Are you sure?’ Irene questioned doubtfully.
‘I’m OK. I took a bit of a knock when I fell down.’
‘I will phone Miros at once. We must report what happened. Did you see the man who did this?’
‘It was too dark.’ I hobbled after her as she went to the phone.
‘You may not believe it, Robert, but there was a time when such things would never happen on Ithaca. That somebody should do this on the day of your father’s funeral, it would have been unthinkable once.’
‘If it’s any consolation I don’t think anything was taken.’
‘I cannot imagine what this person hoped to find. There is nothing worth stealing on the boat. Certainly nothing that is worth this.’ She dialled a number and as I limped towards the kitchen for some juice I heard her speaking urgently on the phone. When I returned she told me that Theonas had asked that I go to the police station to make a report.
I was still thinking about what she’d said before. ‘So Dad never kept anything valuable on the boat?’
‘No. Can you get down the stairs?’
‘I think I can manage.’
‘Of course there is the radio and some other equipment.’
‘That hadn’t been touched. You’re sure there was nothing else? Something somebody might have known about? Money maybe?’
‘I am certain. Perhaps a few euros. Why do you ask?’
I described what I’d found. The cupboards all open and the contents taken out, but in an orderly, methodical fashion rather than simply rifled through. ‘Whoever it was had been there for a while before I arrived. If it was just some opportunist thief, why didn’t he grab the most obvious things first? Like the radio?’
Something flickered in Irene’s expression. It came and went in a split second but my question had sparked some thought in her. ‘I do not know.’ She turned away from me and went towards the door. ‘We should go now, Robert. Miros is expecting us.’
I went after her but when we reached the car I said, ‘You know something, don’t you?’
‘What do you mean?’ She tried to appear as if she really didn’t know what I was talking about.
‘I mean that don’t you think it’s time you told me what’s going on?’
She regarded me blankly, but I held her look. ‘I do not understand,’ she said.
‘Ever since I arrived I’ve had the sense that there’s something you haven’t told me. When you blamed yourself for Dad’s death, at first I thought it was guilt because you’d left him for Theonas. But it’s more than that isn’t it? The other day when you saw the newspaper clipping about the murdered tourist, that meant something to you. And now this.’
She resisted a moment longer but then she sighed heavily. ‘Yes, you are right. I kept something from you. But I did so because I loved your father, and because I have tried to believe that I was wrong.’
‘Wrong about what?’
‘Come and sit down, and I will tell you.’ She sat on the steps and I went over and joined her.
‘First, tell me this, Irene, do you believe Dad’s death was an accident?’
‘I do not know what I believe.’
‘When he said that somebody tried to kill him, you think he was serious don’t you? It wasn’t his medication or some ploy to get you back.’
She looked surprised at my second suggestion. ‘Of course not. Your father knew that I still loved him. But yes, now I think he was serious. I tried not to believe it. But I cannot pretend any longer.’
‘Why?’
‘Because of something that happened a year ago. It was before I left Johnny. Things were bad between us, but I had not yet reached the point where I could not take any more.’ She smiled, but it was a crooked, ironic smile. ‘It is strange how fate works. It was because of what happened that I went to see Miros Theonas. He was sympathetic. I told him more than I had intended and he listened … I never imagined what would happen. We had known each other for many years, but only as friends.’
I begrudged Theonas his relationship with Irene. It seemed to me that he had taken advantage of the situation in a way which was unethical in the circumstances. Perhaps he’d long harboured romantic feelings toward her and suddenly he had found his opportunity.
‘What was it that you went to see him about?’
‘A man approached your father. He was a Frenchman I think. He was visiting the islands. A wealthy collector of antiquities. He asked Johnny to sell him some of the pieces in the museum.’
‘But Dad didn’t own them did he?’
‘No. They are owned by the Greek government. It is illegal to transport antiquities out of the country. In the past so much of this country’s history has been stolen by foreigners and placed in museums in other countries.’
‘Like the Elgin Marbles?’ I said. ‘I’ve read that the Greek government is campaigning to get the frieze back from the British Museum.’
‘Yes. Johnny was approached many times over the years. Of course he always refused such offers.’
‘But not this time, is that what you’re saying?’
‘No, of course he did refuse. But not at first. To begin with he asked me why he should not sell some of his collection. Though it did not legally belong to him, he had discovered everything in the museum himself. He said that at least he would have something to show for all of the years he had spent digging in the stony ground of Ithaca. Of course he did not really mean it. He was drunk.’
‘But you must have wondered,’ I said, guessing at the truth. ‘That’s why you went to Theonas.’
‘Perhaps,’ she admitted.
‘So what happened?’
‘Nothing. By the time I spoke to Miros, the French collector had left. But Johnny mentioned the subject once or twice afterwards. It was always when he had been drinking of course. I did not take him seriously, but one day I read an article in a magazine about something that had happened in Athens. A man had become involved with a gang who were planning to smuggle some antiquities out of the country. He was the curator of a museum. He let them into the building at night but something went wrong with the plan and he was killed. I showed it to Johnny.’
‘To warn him?’
‘Yes.’
‘And now you think he may not have listened. Is that it?’
‘It is possible,’ she confessed, though it was clear she didn’t want to believe it. ‘After Johnny told me he thought somebody had tried to kill him I was worried about the way he was behaving. I remembered this French collector and I asked him if he had become involved in something
illegal. He denied it. But I was never sure.’
‘And now?’
‘When you found the newspaper cutting about the murdered tourist and I saw the date I remembered it was the same day that Johnny came home from the hospital.’
‘You think there’s a connection?’ It made sense. If he was somehow involved with the murdered man it explained why he kept the clipping and why he’d suddenly insisted on leaving hospital. It also explained why he hadn’t told Irene the truth.
‘Perhaps.’
‘And you think the person I disturbed on the boat last night could have been involved too?’
‘It is only a possibility,’ she insisted.
‘But if he wasn’t simply an opportunist thief, it makes sense, doesn’t it? He was looking for something specific,’ I reasoned.
Irene didn’t answer. Instead she looked sadly out across the harbour, and I knew this was exactly what she thought, or perhaps feared, might be true.
Far below us the water was changing from dark green to blue as the sun rose higher above the hills. The sails of a yacht flashed white as it slid out to sea looking like a pretty toy. On the Perahori road a truck laden with rocks for repairing the walls in the terraced olive groves chugged steadily upwards. Everything appeared normal and yet the tranquillity was deceptive. I understood why Irene hadn’t said anything until now. It wasn’t simply that what she suspected my dad of doing was illegal, but rather that she hadn’t wanted to face the possibility that the man she had loved for so long had in the end betrayed the people of the island he had made his home. Including her.
The question was, if all this were true, what had my father planned to sell that somebody had thought was worth killing for?
On the way into town we discussed what we would say to Theonas. Now that Irene’s suspicions were out in the open she was reluctant to accept that she may have been right.
‘I still cannot believe Johnny would do this,’ she said, though she sounded as if she was trying to convince herself more than me.
‘Let’s see what Theonas has to say.’
The police station in Vathy was a squat, single-storey building shielded from the road by a high wall, the entrance guarded by wrought-iron gates that, judging from the overgrown weeds, were permanently open. Inside, Irene spoke to a bored-looking policeman who fetched Theonas. He greeted Irene warmly and took us to his office at the rear of the building.
I went over what had happened on the boat and then reminded him of the French collector that Irene had spoken to him about the previous year. He glanced at her and I knew immediately that he had guessed all along why she was concerned about my father’s death.
‘You believe that your father was involved in illegal smuggling, Mr French?’ he said.
‘From what Irene says it fits.’
‘And the attack on you last night, this is connected to your father’s activities?’
‘Nothing was taken. I think whoever was on the boat was looking for something.’
‘And what do you think that might be?’
I detected a faint note of polite scepticism in Theonas’s questions though I wasn’t sure why. ‘I have no idea,’ I said. ‘But on the way here something did occur to me. You’re aware that my dad spent part of every summer looking for the wreck of the Antounnetta?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘He recorded it all in a set of journals, one for each year. I was looking at them when I was on the boat the other day. Last night I found one open on the chart table, but I know I put them all back on the shelf.’
Theonas looked puzzled, and so did Irene for that matter. ‘I think whoever attacked me was reading it,’ I explained. ‘It was open to the last entry he made, dated last year. He wrote that he hadn’t found anything. But that doesn’t fit with what he said in the bar the night of his heart attack.’
‘Johnny said that he had found the Panaghia,’ Irene said. ‘Is that what you mean?’
‘Yes. And if he had found the Panaghia that means he must have found the Antounnetta.’
‘Your father had been drinking heavily that night, Mr French. It was not the first time that he had talked of returning the Panaghia. Many times over the years he claimed that he was close to finding the wreck. And if it was true, why did he not write it in his journal?’ Theonas reasoned.
‘Maybe he did. What if there’s another journal? The most recent one on the boat is for last year.’
‘And you are suggesting that the person you disturbed was looking for this journal?’
‘He was looking for something. I know the Panaghia isn’t valuable, but the Germans had a history of looting valuables and works of art during the war. Isn’t that how the artefacts which Dracoulis found ended up in Switzerland? So it’s reasonable enough to assume there might have been something else on the Antounnetta other than a religious statue.’
Theonas regarded me impassively while he considered this, then he said, ‘There is no evidence to support this theory, Mr French. It is pure conjecture.’
I appealed to Irene. ‘Did he mention the Antounnetta to you after you first saw him in hospital?’
She thought hard but then shook her head. ‘No. I am certain of it.’
‘All right. It’s conjecture, but what about the tourist who was killed?’ I said to Theonas. ‘Why did Dad keep the news clipping I found?’
‘Murder is almost unheard of on Ithaca. Perhaps your father was simply interested in the case because of this.’
‘And maybe Dad knew who he was. Didn’t you say yourself the taxi driver said he spoke with a foreign accent? He might have been a collector like the Frenchman who was here last year.’
‘Again, Mr French, this is mere speculation.’
It dawned on me that no matter what I said Theonas would never be convinced. ‘You don’t want to take this seriously do you?’
‘On the contrary, I can assure you that I take the matter very seriously,’ he countered stiffly.
‘What Miros says is true, Robert. There is no evidence for any of this,’ Irene said.
‘There’s no smoking gun if that’s what you mean. But there’s at least enough to investigate. I suppose it wouldn’t look good though would it? The captain of the police having an affair with the wife of a murdered antiquities smuggler.’
I had gone too far. Irene was stunned into silence while Theonas regarded me with a cold stare. ‘There is no evidence whatsoever to indicate that your father’s death was anything other than an accident,’ he said. ‘Nor that he was intending to smuggle anything. In fact I have never believed that he was capable of such a thing, as I told Irene when she came to me last year.’
I saw from her expression that what he said was true. Theonas rose from behind his desk. ‘Of course I do not deny that my relationship with Irene placed me in a difficult position with regard to your father. However, I always regarded him with the greatest respect. It is for this reason more than any other that I find it difficult to accept your theory.’ He fixed me with a withering look. ‘I am not so ready as you are, it would seem, to accuse a man who is unable to defend himself.’
‘What the hell does that mean?’
‘It is no secret that you did not get on with your father. Your theory relies on the assumption that he was engaged in illegal activities. Perhaps you wish to see wrongdoing where in fact there was none.’
‘Are you serious?’ I said. ‘You think I’m making it all up because I have a grudge against my father?’
Theonas said nothing, which was answer enough.
‘What about Irene?’ I said, turning towards her. ‘You’ve always suspected something like this.’
Irene regarded us both uncertainly, unwilling to commit. It occurred to me that Irene’s suspicions had always been at war with her desire to continue to believe in my father.
Theonas rose and opened the door to signal that the meeting was over. I got to my feet angrily, but Irene hesitated and asked me to go ahead. I went outside to wait and
when she emerged a few minutes later she wore a troubled expression.
‘You should not have accused Miros,’ she said. ‘He is a good man.’
‘Good men make mistakes like everybody else,’ I pointed out.
‘Yes,’ she agreed, and regarded me in a way that seemed to imply that I should take note of my own words.
When we arrived back at the house I told Irene that I was going to go with Alex to visit Alkimos Kounidis. I thought that if my father’s death had anything to do with the Antounnetta then Kounidis would be a good person to talk to anyway, and there was obviously no point expecting Theonas to do anything further.
Irene drew me a map to show me how to find his house and when I picked Alex up I explained everything that had happened.
‘What will you do?’ she asked when I had finished.
‘Talk to Kounidis. Find out if he knows whether the Antounnetta could have been carrying something that somebody was prepared to kill for. After that I’m not sure. Try to find the missing journal I suppose.’
‘Then you don’t think the man who attacked you found it?’
‘No. I would’ve noticed if he was carrying anything and I know he searched the boat pretty thoroughly. But just to make sure I want to take another look.’
I drove to the marina and pulled up near the Swallow. Nothing had been disturbed since the night before. Together we went over the entire boat from one end to the other, but after a couple of hours I was convinced the journal wasn’t there.
After we left, we drove north to Stavros and from there took the road to the eastern coast across a broad valley where the land was fertile and more cultivated than in other parts of the island. We passed vegetable patches and fruit orchards with lemons and oranges ripening on the trees. A sign pointed to Platrithias and in the distance a church tower crowned a low hill. I remembered going there as a boy, to a site my father had excavated where graves and the ruins of buildings dating from the Mycenaean period had been discovered. It was one of the possible locations for Aphrodite’s Temple, though nothing had ever been found.
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