Who Pays the Ferryman

by Michael J Bird

  'It's a nasty wound. But the doctor says he'll be all right. He's sleeping at the moment.'

  The Major nodded and then began to walk slowly round the room taking in every detail of it. 'I have just returned from Dhafnai,' he said. 'It is a beautiful place, don't you agree?'

  Haldane watched him as he continued his perambulation. 'Perhaps,' he said. 'But I wouldn't recommend it as somewhere to visit.'

  'And the air in the mountains,' Krasakis continued 'So clean, so cool, so fragrant. Some say that it is the breath of God.' He paused and looked across at Haldane. 'Did you know that?'

  'No,' replied Haldane before adding bitterly. 'But I can tell you there was little of God in Dhafnai this morning.'

  The Major studied him thoughtfully and then said quietly, 'Air is air, Mr. Haldane. It is men who contaminate it.'

  He's right of course, thought Haldane. But, for God's sake, what kind of a policeman is he? None of those he'd ever met in England were much given to philosophising. He nodded. 'I take your point, Major,' he said.

  Krasakis slowly crossed to him. 'You are aware of the reason for this attack?' he asked.

  'Yes. I've been told. Some old feud.'

  'More than that,' the Major corrected him. 'A vendetta. '

  Haldane nodded. 'I gather that Mr Viglis' ancestors went in for sheep stealing among other things.'

  'Yes. But in that I doubt if they were different from most of their neighbours. Sheep stealing was a way of life for many in the mountains in those days. '

  'And murder?' said Haldane. 'Was that a way of life too?' Krasakis gave him a quizzical look. 'I understand that the Vigli killed two of the villagers.'

  'It was claimed that they did,' replied Krasakis, 'But there was never any real proof of their guilt and, unfortunately, by the time official enquiries were made the accused were not able to defend themselves.'

  'So I'm told.' muttered Haldane with disgust. 'Rough justice. '

  'If indeed it was any kind of justice,' the Major murmured.

  'And now the villagers are determined to stop Viglis burying his grandfather there,' exclaimed Haldane.

  Krasakis shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'I do not think so. I do not believe that, left to make the decision themselves, the majority of the people of Dhafnai would be opposed to that.'

  'Well they certainly fooled me,' Haldane said scathingly. 'And Tony Viglis will have a scar for the rest of his life to prove it.'

  'I said, if left to make the decision themselves,' reiterated the Major. He moved away from Haldane and began to examine the title of the books on the shelves. 'Sadly they have not been allowed that privilege,' he went on. 'by the eldest surviving member of the family who were the rivals of the Vigli. The family who finally declared vendetta on them. The family who saw to it that the alleged murderers were hanged without trial and then drove those others with the name of Viglis from their homes. The family which was powerful then in Dhafnai and which today is even more powerful.'

  'Just one family?' Haldane said in amazement.

  Krasakis had taken Haldane's copy of the Essays of Montaigne and was leafing through it. He nodded. 'The family which now owns the village and almost all the land around it,' he said. 'The beneficent family which built the new school and restored the old chapel. The family which collects the rents. The family to which almost all the villagers owe their livelihood and, because of that, their loyalty.' He closed the book and put it back on the shelf. 'But only because of that and out of fear of going against them do they collectively oppose the burial.'

  'Because they have been told to. Or else,' suggested Haldane.

  The major turned to him and nodded. 'Exactly,' he said. 'Even if less bluntly than that.'

  'Then it's not so much barbarism but some local Mafia Viglis is up against.'

  The major shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'Mafia is too strong a word. Merely a proud and powerful Cretan family. Or one important member of it at least.'

  'Who is afraid of a dead man,' Haldane snorted contemptuously.

  Krasakis sighed. 'Who is afraid of many things I think.' Haldane shook his head. 'And knowing this what can you do about it?'

  Krasakis moved on to study Haldane's collection of LPs. 'Little if anything,' he replied. 'Although, naturally, I will try. But while the pressure is there the people of Dhafnai will bend to it.' He held up a recording of the Saint Saens Organ Symphony and nodded his approval. 'They have been told that Kissandros Viglis is unwelcome in their cemetery. And if for no other reason than to protect themselves, they will go to any lengths to see that he is not buried there.' He put the record back into place. 'You already have proof of that.'

  'My God!' Haldane despaired vehemently. 'What kind of people are they?'

  Krasakis turned to him. 'The people they have always been,' he said quietly. 'Cretans. Proud, hospitable, independent, brave. My people. Your people from what I've heard of you. People whose good qualities you share. But tell me,' he went on, 'who of us in a lifetime and when tested is not sometimes meek, hostile, dependent.' He paused. 'And afraid? So that is the kind of people they are, Mr Haldane.' He shrugged. 'They are people.'

  Haldane regarded him intently. The man interested and intrigued him. 'So what do you recommend?'

  'That Mr Viglis buries his grandfather elsewhere on the island,' Krasakis replied. 'That is the simple solution.'

  'And if he refuses? What if he insists on Dhafnai?'

  The Major shook his head sadly. 'Then he will need a great deal of help and support. And I will give him what protection I can.' He went over to the front door. 'Meanwhile I will try to see to it that those who stoned you this morning are charged and brought before the court.'

  'Good,' said Haldane. 'That may help.'

  Krasakis opened the door and then turned to him. 'I doubt it,' he said. 'And frankly I do not think that I will be successful. The. villagers saw nothing and heard nothing. Certainly no one will identify any of your assailants.'

  Haldane frowned and then had an inspiration. 'There was someone with me. Mrs Zeferis. Do you know her?'

  The Major nodded. 'Yes, I know her.'

  'Well she comes from Dhafnai. She grew up there. She saw it all. She could identify them.'

  Krasakis gave him a faint, sardonic smile. 'Undoubtedly. But she will not do so,' he assured him.

  'Oh, why?' asked Haldane, surprised.

  'Mrs Zeferis was baptised Annika Matakis.' Haldane shrugged. 'So?'

  Krasakis saw from his expression that he would have to spell it out for him. 'It is the Matakis family which owns Dhafnai,' 'he explained. 'They are the family which claimed they were wronged by the Vigli. It is they who declared the vendetta. And it is Annika's mother, Katerina Matakis, who today keeps it alive. And now fans it into flames once more.' He studied Haldane and frowned. He could see that the Englishman was shocked by what he had just told him and hurt and angered by it. 'You are surprised?' he asked.

  Haldane nodded. 'Yes,' he said, tight-lipped. 'Very.

  Somehow that little detail got left out of the story I was told.'

  As the doctor had predicted, Tony Viglis had recovered sufficiently by late evening for him to insist on getting out of bed. He was pale and somewhat unsteady on his feet at first but after a stiff drink claimed that he felt much better, almost himself again.

  Haldane had been all for preparing a meal for them at home but the Australian had finally been able to persuade him that he was more than up to going out to eat and that, anyway, he could do with a breath of fresh air. So, together, they had strolled gently along to the Vassilakis' taverna.

  Haldane had noticed the look which had passed between Nikos and Elena when they entered the bar. They would both. of course, have heard what had happened at Dhafnai and Haldane realised that having the Australian as a customer could well create something of a quandary for Elena. But Nikos, at least. greeted them warmly enough and neither he nor Elena mentioned the incident.

  Nikos showed them to a table in a quiet co
rner of the patio and Haldane ordered a light dinner for them and a bottle of wine.

  As Viglis picked at his food, Haldane told him everything that Major Krasakis had said to him that afternoon. The Australian was as staggered by it as he had been.

  'But this is the bloody twentieth century,' he growled angrily.

  'Yes,' sighed Haldane, 'And it's barbaric. But even now. in parts of Crete. the vendetta is still a reality. There are some people who still cling to the old ways.' And then he asked. 'Didn't your grandfather ever say anything to you about what happened?'

  Viglis shook his head. 'Never a word. He was full of stories, mind. Some of 'em pretty wild and I've always had a feeling that he left here sort of on the run. But why, he didn't say. Not to me anyway.'

  'When did he leave?'

  'When he was around eighteen I think,' replied Viglis,

  'Which would have been what year?'

  The Australian worked it out in his mind. 'Let's see. He was seventy-nine when he died so that would have been ... ' He nodded. 'Nineteen sixteen. It fits.'

  'Well, now you know what the situation is what are you going to do about it?' said Haldane.

  'Do about it!' exclaimed Viglis. 'What in hell do you think? I'm going to see it through.'

  'Major Krasakis advises against that,' Haldane warned him.

  'Stuff him!' railed Viglis vehemently. 'And stuff all those bloody abos up in the mountains. No matter what,' he went on defiantly. 'My grand-dad's going to be buried where he bloody well chose to be. In a plot bought with the money he earned with a hell of a lot of sweat. That's what he wanted and that's what I'm going to see happens. Believe me.'

  Haldane saw the stubborn determination in his eyes. He nodded. 'Right,' he said quietly. 'I'm with you.'

  'Oh, come on now,' protested Viglis. 'Listen, Mr Haldane ... '

  'Alan,' Haldane interrupted.

  Viglis grinned. 'Right. Thanks. Well, listen Alan. You've been bloody good to me already. Getting me out of that place, calling in a doctor, letting me rest up in your house and all. But if there's going to be more trouble, and it looks like there is, I don't want to get you involved.'

  'I'm already involved. And in a way this is as much my fight as it is yours.'

  Viglis looked puzzled. 'Oh! How come?'

  'You could say it's a family matter,' Haldane said dismissively. He could see that Viglis was interested but he was not prepared to go into detail. 'The Major is right,' he went on, guiding him back on to the original track. 'You are going to need a lot of help. More than I can give you. We want someone on our side who carries a bit of weight around here.' He picked up his glass of wine. 'And I think I know the very man.'

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Haldane stood by the open window. The sounds of the traffic and of people gossiping in 25th August Street intruded into Babis Spiridakis' office along with the warm sunlight. The lawyer was sitting behind his desk with Tony Viglis seated opposite him.

  'After you telephoned me, Leandros,' Spiridakis was saying, 'I got in touch with Father Kaphatos. He made many excuses, none of which I would accept. And, finally, he said that it was not possible for the burial to take place in Dhafnai because there is no space in the cemetery. But this is a lie and I know it to be so. However, he clearly considers that to be the end of the matter.'

  'So what's our next move?' asked Haldane.

  Spiridakis looked across at Viglis. 'To reconsider, I think,' He said quietly.

  Viglis shook his head. 'No,' he insisted resolutely.

  The lawyer leaned forward, resting his forearms on his desk. 'Leandros brought you to me because I am his friend,' he said patiently. 'He trusts me. And he trusts my judgement. Will you not do the same?'

  'Not if you're saying that I should bury my grandfather somewhere else,’ replied Viglis with a scowl.

  'You are a stubborn man, Mr Viglis.'

  'Yes,’ acknowledged the Australian proudly.

  The lawyer sighed. 'Do you realise what may be the result of such obstinacy?'

  'Listen,’ protested Viglis angrily. 'I didn't come here to stir things up. Others have done that. And I'm not about to back away from them.'

  Spiridakis glanced across at Haldane, clearly seeking his support. 'Leandros?' he appealed.

  Haldane turned to him and shook his head. 'No, I'm with him. on this, Babis. I think he's right.'

  Spiridakis looked from Haldane to Viglis and then back at Haldane again. He gave a helpless shrug. 'Very well then,' he said. 'If you both insist.'

  'But Father Kaphatos says that the cemetery is full,' said Haldane. 'If he sticks to that story what can be done?'

  Spiridakis was in no doubt. 'Since I know that to be untrue,' he replied, 'as a lawyer I can only conclude that he is being deliberately obstructive to the rightful claims of the heir and executor of the estate of Kissandros Viglis. And without reasonable cause.' He looked at the Australian. 'In which case, as your representative, it is open to me to appeal to the Archbishop. I take it that your grandfather was not a heretic?'

  Viglis was shocked by this. 'Too bloody right,' he exclaimed.

  'And that he was in good standing with the Greek church?'

  Viglis nodded. 'Right again. He went to services regularly.'

  The lawyer shrugged. 'Then there can be no religious grounds on which to refuse him burial,' he went on formally. 'And in the place of his choosing. Once the Archbishop is in possession of all the facts he will have no alternative other than to order Father Kaphatos to proceed with the funeral and officiate at it.' He sighed again and shook his head sadly. 'But that will only be a piece of paper. An instruction. Only another influence can ensure that your grandfather finally rests in peace in Dhafnai.'

  'Katerina Matakis,' growled Haldane.

  Spiridakis nodded. 'It is she who opposes you,' he said to Viglis.

  Haldane moved away from the window and over to the desk. 'Speak to her, Babis,' he pleaded. 'You know her well. I think you're also her friend. Appeal to her.'

  Again the lawyer shook his head. 'She would not listen, Leandros. Even to me. I know that. It is a matter of pride to her and her ears would be closed to all entreaties. It would be useless.' He looked across at Viglis again. 'She is much like you,' he said. 'No one will sway her from what she feels deeply to be her duty.'

  'You are mistaken, Major,' Katerina Matakis retorted icily. 'The people of my village have acted in this way because of the outrage with which they feel themselves threatened. Not because of any claim which I or my family may have on them.'

  With Petros standing on the far side of the dimly lit sitting room, Krasakis and Katerina confronted one another.

  'Then if that is so ... ' Krasakis replied, and he would have gone on but Katerina flushed angrily and broke in on him. 'You doubt my word?, she demanded, challenging him to admit it.

  The Major studied her and his expression was answer enough. 'I would say only this, Kyria Matakis,' he said. 'Incitement to violence is a criminal offence.'

  'You came here to threaten me?' she flared.

  Krasakis shook his head. 'No,' he replied almost casually and still refusing to be drawn. 'Merely to acquaint you with that fact.' He smiled. 'It is as well for us all to know how we may place ourselves in jeopardy.'

  Katerina scowled. 'There has been no incitement,' she reiterated sharply. 'None was needed.'

  'But your interests are close to the hearts of the people of Dhafnai,' Krasakis insisted. 'As their interests are close to your heart.'

  Katerina regarded him warily. 'I have no cause to deny that. I am proud of our shared concern in all things.'

  'And you would wish to advise them well?' suggested the Major.

  'As I have always done,' Katerina replied with a nod, but still on her guard.

  'Then warn them. Tell them that if the Australian comes to Dhafnai again, for any reason, and if they go against him, then they will go against me.'

  'You would protect him?' Katerina sneered. 'A foreigner. From the a
nger of people of your own blood.'

  Krasakis shook his head. 'No. I do not protect him. The law does.'

  The old woman regarded him contemptuously. 'Man's law,' she snarled. There is no true justice there.'

  Krasakis held her gaze and then said quietly. 'If you call on justice, Kyria, then remember this. Justice is blind. She cannot tell a Cretan from a foreigner.' He put on his cap and saluted her. 'Kalimera,' Then he nodded to Matakis. Kyrie Petros.'

  'I'II see you to the door,' said Matakis.

  The Major followed him out of the room. Katerina sat down in one of the upright armchairs and stared broodingly into space.

  Matakis came back into the room and closed the door behind him. Then he crossed to her and stood beside her. 'He means what he says, mother,' he said emphatically. 'He will stand with Viglis. He must.'

  'Then let him,' Katerina threatened darkly. 'It changes nothing. Only that in standing with him the Major may also fall with him.'

  Matakis made a helpless gesture. 'Why?' he pleaded. 'For what? For a wrong that was avenged years ago? What is there to be gained from what you are doing? For anyone?'

  Slowly Katerina lifted her head to look at him. 'There have been times lately, Petros,' she informed him cruelly and in an acid voice, 'when if I did not still remember the agony of your birth, I would doubt that you were my son.' She shook her head despairingly. ‘And to think that I have placed the Englishman, Haldane, in your hands.’

  Spiridakis got up from his chair and moved around from behind the desk. 'Very well,’ he said. 'I will speak to the Archbishop. He will instruct Father Kaphatos. Of that I am certain.'

  Viglis got to his feet and shook hands with him. 'Thank you,' he said gratefully.

  The lawyer regarded him sadly, 'If it was only as easy as that. If I only believed that you had real cause for gratitude. But in doing that I am merely opening the gate. The path you have chosen is no less stony than before.' He sighed and then continued. 'Now, would you do something for me?'

  'Name it,' said Viglis.

  'I would like to speak to Leandros for a moment. Alone.'