“And what sort of help were you thinking might be called for at that hour?” the inspector asked casually.
The reply came at once with a suppressed grin: “Carrying a suitcase? All that yelling and screaming in the upper quarters, I thought someone might be going to do a runner, sir.” Getting back to his routine, Demetrios told how he had fed the cats in the rear scullery, waited for them to finish, and then cleared their dishes away. By then it was time to put the cats out into the night—the Lady wouldn’t have them inside the house after dark—and he’d started his tasks out at the back. Demetrios broke off to whisper hurriedly to Dorothea. She impatiently told him to just get on with his story.
Montacute was not a man to let anything slide by him and he gently enquired the reason for the boy’s hesitation. Dorothea shrugged and explained that the lad had got fond of the animals and was asking what would happen to them now the professor was no longer about to care for them. He wanted Miss Laetitia to know that he’d be very willing to take them home with him rather than kick them out into the city, where they’d starve.
Letty smiled and assured him that his offer was very generous and she’d certainly make sure the cats were not forgotten.
Her intervention was rewarded with a flashing grin and a whispered “Thank you, Mistress.”
Demetrios gathered himself and told how he’d watered all the tubs of flowers, then he’d come inside again and checked that all the windows at the rear were locked, the doors bolted. The Old Mistress was very insistent on all that … she checked up on him sometimes.
Letty interrupted to remark that he was quite new in his post. She remembered that the boy back in the spring when she’d last been here was called Thomas?
Dorothea hurried to answer for him. Thomas had given notice—and returned to his own village just a little way off, on the Eleusis road. His father had had an accident at work and the lad was needed back at home. Luckily, he’d been able to recommend the services of his younger cousin. And Demetrios had given excellent service. The professor had the shiniest shoes in Athens!
Encouraged by the praise, Demetrios told how he’d gone out through the front door to check all was well and was about to come back in and lock up when he saw a dark shape on the ground under the drawing room window. He’d thought it might be a tramp bedding down for the night and the Old Mistress would never have tolerated such a thing, so he’d gone over to advise him to move away. He’d discovered Lady Merriman. And she was still alive, he’d added with round eyes. She’d recognised him and been able to speak to him. She’d told him she’d been pushed through the window and he was to fetch Dorothea and call the police.
“She said this in English?” the inspector asked quietly.
“Yes,” replied the boy, and fell silent.
Dorothea clearly felt she ought to explain. “Demetrios is a bright lad! He wants to be a butler one day in a large household. That’s his ambition. And we all know you need to speak English for a post like that. He’s learning fast! I can’t teach him much but Miss Thetis finds the time. She’s been very good to him. Go on, Demetrios! Give the gentleman a sample!”
Shy but eager to please, the boy looked at them from under his eyebrows and said clearly: “May I take your hat, sir? And now the other foot, if you please. Will you come this way, madam? Her ladyship is expecting you …”
“There! And he understands a lot, too. He’s a good listener. If that’s what he says the mistress told him, I wouldn’t doubt it. She said as much again when I got there but she was fading fast and I could hardly make out what she was saying. She was muttering in English.”
The cook interrupted to ask a question that was on all their minds. There were other more important matters than raking over the events of last night. What about tomorrow? He wanted to know if he should at once start to look for a new post? Were they all to be turned away now the master and mistress were gone for good?
They should all stay in post for the time being, Montacute told them. Their wages would be paid until such time as the inheritors of the Merriman estate decided what was to be done with the house. It would most probably be sold by the English gentlemen who had inherited, but in the meantime Miss Laetitia or perhaps Miss Thetis would preside over the household, and Mr. Gunning would be on hand also.
A burst of muttering from Demetrios directed at Dorothea greeted this. The housekeeper, in some embarrassment, waved it away, telling them it was an indiscreet question and no business of his to ask it.
Inevitably, Montacute insisted on an explanation. Dorothea told him that the boy had been asking why the professor’s daughter couldn’t just take over the house and go on living in it.
“The professor’s daughter?” asked Montacute and Letty together in surprise.
A further passage in Greek amongst the staff reduced Dorothea to giggles. “I’m sorry, sir, but the boy’s only been here since June. You’ll have to forgive him! How was he to know? He’d just about managed to work out the relationship between Miss Thetis and the professor …” Dorothea blushed and the two other servants hissed under their breath and looked aside. “I mean Miss Thetis and her ladyship … when another young girl arrived. People had told him and he assumed from the way she behaved—obviously at home here where a room was always kept for her—the one at the back—we call it Miss Laetitia’s room—that Miss Letty was the professor’s daughter!”
Demetrios was looking acutely uncomfortable, sliding further under the table as the explanation progressed and regretting the gauche question that so amused the adults.
Montacute kicked Letty’s ankle and said calmly: “A very natural mistake. Miss Laetitia’s own father and Sir Andrew were very good friends and there was, of course, a closeness between Sir Richard’s daughter and his old friend, which De metrios, among many, has observed.” He directed a kindly nod at the boy. “But perhaps this might be the moment to announce some of the provisions Sir Andrew made in his will for his family and staff? Allay a little panic?”
Letty’s first concern was to halt the slide of the mortified child out of sight. He was far too young to be taking on his shoulders the concerns and now the melodramas of such a puzzling foreign household, and, she guessed, probably came in for quite a ribbing from the other servants.
“Well, I wish Sir Andrew had willed the house to me, Demetrios!” she said cheerfully. “I’d have kept the household together, cats and all! He has left me one of his properties but it’s too far away to be of use to any of us—somewhere up north near Salonika, though I’ve never been there. But the good news is—he didn’t just remember his family in his will, he remembered all of you as well. Mrs. Stephanopoulos is to receive a generous sum of money in gratitude for the many years she has worked for him, and the rest of you—Petros, Maria, and Demetrios—are to have twenty pounds each.”
A hubbub broke out, laced with smiles and exclamations. Dorothea produced a bottle of raki and a set of small glasses and poured out celebratory drinks for all. The first toast was to the professor with the wish that his soul might prosper, the second for the good news, and the third to Letty for bringing them the good news. They were embarking on a fourth round when Montacute and Letty took their leave.
As they climbed back upstairs, Montacute turned to Letty. “Miss Laetitia! Would you have any qualms about getting some information for me without any of the servants knowing?”
“Probably not,” she said. “Ask! What do you want to know?”
“I should like to find out the home address of the boot boy. Not Demetrios. His predecessor—Thomas, I think you said his name was?”
Chapter 26
Nothing simpler!” Letty answered. “Why don’t you go on upstairs to the library, Inspector? I’ll bring you what you want in a moment.”
She turned back to the staff room.
“Dorothea!” she said, poking her head around the door. “No, I don’t want to disturb you again—you’re all to take a half hour off. It occurs to me that while I’m down
here and standing in for Lady Merriman, I may as well initial the daybook.”
Dorothea, hiccupping gently, dabbed her lips with a lace handkerchief and raised a little finger in acknowledgement. “Of course, Mistress! She would have counted on doing it last night.”
She took down a ledger from a corner shelf by the fireplace and handed it to Letty.
Letty looked about her, taking in the scene, and tucked the book under her arm. “Carry on, all of you. I’ll take this upstairs with me. And take a moment to make a note of the … changed circumstances …” she added confidentially.
————
“There you are! The daybook.” Letty placed it on the desk in front of Montacute. “If you want to know what everyone ate for breakfast six weeks ago last Tuesday you’ll find it in here. Weekly grocery bills … the fishmonger … the milkman … guests … who came and went … the usual things. You’ll find what you’re looking for at the back. Staff records. Weekly payments. Deductions for breakages—Maud was tough on breakages—and the staff’s home addresses and personal details.”
The inspector pounced on the book and turned at once to the back pages.
“Montacute, what do you find so interesting about that young chap?” Gunning asked.
Letty replied for him. “Changes in routine. Appearances and disappearances. That’s what gets the inspector going.”
He smiled and nodded in agreement as he found the information he was searching for. “Immaculately kept records. And here we have the sudden appearance of young Demetrios. Third week in June. With an address for him on the fringes of the Plaka. Stadiou Adrianou. Family name: Volos. Father Vassilios and mother Kalliopi. Father is a taxi driver by trade. Dorothea has noted that he was introduced and vouched for by the previous employee, Thomas. They interviewed no others for the position.”
He riffled back through a few more pages and came upon: “Thomas. Clean record. She’s noted down Andrew’s testimonial for the boy. Sudden departure back home to Eleusis. Father suffered work injury and the son was needed to help out. Runs a garage. Unusual. Halfway to Corinth, they probably sell a good deal of petrol to passing tourists. Taxis? Cars? There may be a link …”
Montacute reached for the telephone and asked for a connection. “Probably all nonsense,” he said casually while he waited. “But if I’m going down a hole after something nasty, I like to know that all possible exits have been blocked. Saves a lot of effort. Ah! Philippos? Montacute here. Give me Harry, will you?… Sarge! Tell me what you’re busy with … Fine … Fine … Look, I want you to leave that for the moment. There’s something else I want you to do. Oh … inside two hours. And what’s more you’ll enjoy it! I want you to drive out on the Corinth road with a young lady and fill the car up with petrol. No, that’s all. Take one of the unmarked sedans. Your passenger will brief you. Pick her up … not here … um … in Academy Street. In front of the Schliemann mansion. She’ll be the young lady carrying a picnic hamper. In, let’s say, half an hour. You’re to come back with some information for me. You’ll be back in time for the meeting with the superintendent and the medics, don’t worry.”
“Well, I’d better start cutting the sandwiches, then,” said Letty dryly. “Does the sergeant like cheese or ham?”
“No need for that. Just grab an empty basket from the kitchen. It’s only window dressing. Now, here’s what you’re to do …”
A moment later he left the room to check on the taxi stand at the corner of the square, and Gunning and Letty sighed in irritation and relief.
“I’ll stroll round the corner with you and deliver you into the hands of the sergeant,” Gunning volunteered when they were alone. “I wonder if you’ve realised, Letty, that he’s playing a game of pass the parcel?” He spoke swiftly, an eye on the door.
“What do you mean? And—am I the parcel in question?”
“I think so. You said it yourself—what interests him is change … new actors making their entrance. And it’s not just Demetrios who’s wandered onto this scene. You have arrived. Thetis has arrived. Both of you with a motive for spiking poor old Andrew.”
“He’s asked me twice now if we knew each other in London,” said Letty doubtfully.
Gunning snorted. “Then he may suspect you’re working together—in some sort of awful Maenad rampage. You top Andrew—not quite sure why … jealousy? revenge for a betrayal of some sort? Woman scorned? He doesn’t know you as I do and what do we know of him, after all? The man may have some pretty primitive ideas about ‘wimmin’ and their emotions. He might well be not in the least surprised that a spurned woman should take it into her head to stab her lover in his faithless heart. I expect it happens every Saturday night in Beak Street, Soho. And, honestly, Letty, if what you report about Andrew is true, then it’s a wonder to me, let alone Montacute, that the man went unfilleted for so long! And then Thetis gives Maud a push. The plotters meet back at Mrs. Rose’s haven for young ladies to congratulate each other. But he’s broken up the conspiracy. Thetis he’s made safe under lock and key, but it’s my theory he’s giving you the illusion that you’re running loose. He’s even convinced you that you’re being of assistance to the forces of law and order.”
“But I am being of use. The inspector sees every advantage of sailing along in the lee of my charm and secure social position.” Letty grinned. “Don’t be concerned, William, I was not deceived! The man’s using me as a decoy duck, an innocent-looking lure, while he stands in the underbrush, shotgun at the ready.”
“And you’ll have realised that he’s holding you on the end of a longish leash, if I may pile up our sporting metaphors. If you’re not actually in his company, he’ll send you off with one of his sergeants riding guard.”
“Apart from the hours I spent at Mrs. Rose’s, I’ve been under undeclared police surveillance the whole time since Andrew died.”
“And perhaps even then …”
Letty shuddered. “You’re right.” She seized his hands and held them to her face. “I hate this! I wish they’d leave us alone! I just want to hug you and talk. I want to do the ordinary things we were planning—watching the sun set over the temple at Sounion, dabbling in the spring at Delphi, canoodling behind the gravestones in the Kerameikos. And Thetis has given me the address of a sweet little hotel in Vouliagmeni where they smile and ask no questions. William! We could just climb into a taxi while he’s got his back turned! Two minutes to fling a few things into a bag … What about it?”
“I think our romantic twosome would turn into a rather uncomfortable threesome before we’d signed the register. Don’t underrate the man. I’d guess he has tentacles spreading all over Greece.”
“Do you seriously think Montacute suspects me of stabbing Andrew to death?”
“Not sure. I think he’s behaving strangely. For a policeman, I mean. Oh, he does everything by the book, but … well, with the attitude of one who’s actually written the book. I expect him to tear it up and rewrite it to please himself at any moment. If we were on a ship I’d call him a loose cannon. Just try not to annoy him too much, Letty. I’ll be here. I won’t let him get away with any nonsense.”
He moved to the window. “Come and look! He’s back again. And what’s he up to now? The inspector seems to spend an awful lot of his time on his knees, don’t you think?”
Letty joined him and watched as Montacute, below the window, shuffled about on the pavings picking up something of interest and putting it in his pocket. He stood and dusted off his trousers and looked up. He smiled back at them as though he’d been aware of their presence, made a gesture, and went back a few paces towards the pepper tree. Then he was on his knees again, searching the grille and pocketing more objects. Finally he came towards the door, miming hand-washing, and disappeared inside.
He bounced into the room a minute or two later, smiling with satisfaction.
“Anything interesting down there?” Gunning couldn’t help asking.
“Oh, yes! The local taxi drivers would app
ear to be making a very good living out of their trade. They certainly do themselves proud in the tobacco department, if that’s any indication. Nothing but the best for them, it seems!”
He took a couple of cigarette stubs from his pocket and laid them in an ashtray. “What do you make of these?” he asked, and without waiting for an answer: “Turkish manufacture,” he said. “Look at the gold strip around the top, the quality of the tobacco. The very finest. And very expensive. Not what the taxi-driving fraternity usually smoke. And none of these has been smoked right down to the butt—we’re not contemplating a smoker who has to get every last drag from his cigarette. I noticed some of these around their stand down there on the corner. And then the same thing up here. Under the tree and right outside the front door. In piles. Someone’s been watching the house since the last street-sweeping was done. And, judging by the quantities buried under the grille, for many days before that. Lady Merriman, it seems, was right to be pulling the emergency cord! The house—or someone in it—was under surveillance. Any idea where the nearest tobacco outlet is, Miss Laetitia?”
“That would be in the café down there or—for more exotic brands—you’d have to go as far as the shop on the corner of Academy Street. I used to go there for Andrew’s tins of Lambert and Butler’s Navy Cut.”
Montacute looked at his watch. “We just have time,” he said, assuming they were following his thoughts. “Gunning—I expect you’ll want to escort Miss Laetitia as far as the Schliemann palace? I’ll come with you both as far as the tobacconist’s. “Picnic basket …?” He bellowed as he strode from the room.
“Nothing to do with him, he claims,” Montacute told them on leaving the shop. “Imported brand, possibly privately imported. Not generally on sale in Greece. He took a good look at the half-smoked one I offered and pronounced it top quality, luxury end of the market, and most likely sent straight for sale in a western capital—London … Paris … New York. Brought back into the country by a tourist perhaps?”
A Darker God Page 22