Giorgos’ fertile brain was back, working at full throttle. ‘We need to get someone who’s a whiz with computers to take this further and follow the trail.’
James was on the same wavelength. ‘A hacker. I know just the guy. I’ve known him for a few years now and I’ve used him before. He’s your man.’
‘Great. That’s settled then.’ Giorgos rubbed his palms together with glee at the appetising prospect of following through the discovery and its implications. He could not wait to get stuck in, grab the baton and run with it to its logical and, hopefully, as envisaged conclusion.
Silence descended before James stirred.
‘There was another theft, a few months ago. It was an artefact from the museum’s Cypriot collection. I had not thought about it before now, but I believe that the two thefts could be connected.’
‘What was taken on that occasion?’
‘Oh, it was a Byzantine icon depicting the Emperor Justinian and his Empress Theodora. It was a valuable icon, but it seemed insignificant at the time, as it was such a minor item in the museum’s collection and not on display. We have so little display space and so many works that we have to be very selective. I don’t know, not just when, but, if, any of the works we have in storage, apart from a selected few, will ever see the light of day whether exhibited permanently here at the museum or as part of a touring exhibition.
‘Anyway, the theft was never reported, and as we had no leads, the case was closed. The icon was taken from the museum’s storage vaults deep underground. Security down there is not as tight as it is in the exhibition halls and the displays above ground, apart from the basement restoration rooms which are also well protected and monitored. And I’m afraid we do not have any security footage of the thief.’
‘Why do you think the thefts may be connected?’ Giorgos asked.
‘Well, when I checked about the other icon that contained the ring, I thought I would do a background check on the other one that was stolen as well. And guess what. Both icons were donated at the same time by the same anonymous person.’
‘We urgently need to put a name and face to that person. And assuming that they are still alive, warn them that their life may be in danger. We need to get whatever information they may be able to provide us with soon, in case whoever is after these icons gets to them.’
‘I agree. I’ll get that hacker guy onto it right away. Now, Giorgos, when are you going back to Athens?’
‘Well, I would need to be back at work in three days.’
‘Would …?’
‘You know what? Now things have changed. I need to study that icon and the ring, so I’ll stick around for a while. I’ll call the University and get a few more days off. They owe me plenty already, anyway, and I’m not missing this opportunity. It’s what I’ve been waiting for for some time now, since …’
Giorgos paused, almost becoming too emotional, and there was only the slightest hint of the great struggle taking place inside him to hide his emotions. He fell deep in thought.
None of the other two men dared break the silence and invade Giorgos’ thoughts that seemed before their eyes to transform from emotional strife to inspired flow.
When Giorgos looked up at James and continued his eyes were shining brighter than the Northern Star. ‘I will need to get funding.’
‘Funding? You mean …?’
‘Yes, I’m going back to the dig in Cappadocia. I want to restart the excavation. This discovery changes everything.’
‘I’ll make a few phone calls and see if I can help you with that, but it may take some time which I gather you cannot afford. I can see you are in a rush to get back and I agree with you that it should be sooner rather than later.’
The thefts were a sign. Giorgos was now more determined than ever. He knew he was onto something. He knew continuing with this project could be dangerous, but when had that stopped him before? James beat him to it and put Giorgos’ thoughts into words.
‘It’s going to be dangerous.’
‘I know. If somebody goes to all that trouble to steal something so specific and not the most valuable item in your treasure trove of a place here, then what this person is after is worth risking jail or death for. We are going ahead with the project. Now I’m more sure of it than ever.’
James got out three small glasses and a bottle of rum. He poured them all a drink and raising his glass, proposed a toast.
‘To the bitter end.’
‘To the bitter end.’ Echoed the others.
* * *
James’ first call was to Iraklios Symitzis. They had known each other for a few years now and James was aware of Iraklios’ interest in all matters pertaining to Byzantine history. James was also aware of the Symitzis’ family’s prominent private art collection and their huge financial support of archaeological expeditions and of museums and galleries housing Byzantine and Greek related collections.
He only wished he had thought of contacting them before now and bringing to their attention Giorgos’ Cappadocian expedition back when his funding had dried up. Unfortunately at the time James was caught up in too many projects that came all at once, almost drowning him, and clouding his mind.
* * *
Iraklios knocked on the door of Elli’s office. She called him inside and gestured to him to sit and wait until she ended her phone call. Five minutes later she gave him her full attention.
‘What’s on your mind?’
‘I received a call from the deputy director of the Metropolitan. It is a request for funding for an archaeological expedition in Cappadocia led by a young archaeologist from Athens. One of my reasons for wanting to fund this is that I would like to control the information flowing out of the expedition, away from the world’s critical eye. I thought this expedition may interest you.’
‘Why’s that? What’s so special about this expedition to make it stand out from so many others?’
‘Apparently they already found something there last year, a chapel dating from 1453 and a sarcophagus which appears to be Byzantine with Imperial insignia.’
‘Has it been dated? And what was inside?’
‘Their funding dried up and they had to stop any further examination. The sarcophagus remained unopened and the tomb sealed. I only wish we knew about it then. I would have stepped in and paid for them to continue.’
‘Iraklios, what do you think they will find? Do you know more about this than you’ve told me so far?
‘I need to tell you a story that I’ve guarded for many years, a story entrusted to me by our mother.’
‘Whatever it is, why was I not told?’
‘I don’t know, but it’s time for you to know. It goes back to the fall of Constantinople on 29th May 1453.’
CHAPTER 18
Athens, Greece
Present day
When Giorgos got back to Athens, a letter was waiting for him. It was from James Calvell. He had found a sponsor for the expedition who wished to remain anonymous.
Giorgos was elated. His apartment could not contain his excitement. He immediately went out to breathe some fresh air and think.
He could not believe he had got another chance. He had a lot to do. He swiftly spurred into action. He had a major expedition to organise, permits to obtain from the Turkish authorities and make arrangements to get a sabbatical and, possibly eventually, leave his job at the University.
He thought he had forgotten what organising an expedition felt like, but it was a great feeling.
He felt like a kid again, dreaming about great excavations and great discoveries and treasures to be found. It was as if a memory, something deep inside him, had been awakened.
He became a pre-programmed machine that was switched on. He didn’t even have to really think of what to do, because it came to him naturally, like riding a bike. He liked this Giorgos who had been hibernating for so long, but no more.
The old team was back in business again. Everyone was stunned when he called them and
they all accepted his offer on the spot. How could they resist this chance of a lifetime? He half-expected that would be their reaction, but still he was prepared with an arsenal of weapons - guile, charm and brains – but, eventually, none was required to be deployed. That was a very pleasant surprise.
They landed in Istanbul and took a train to Cappadocia. They set up the sterile laboratory and got down to work. They were back home at last. However, this time they had the money to pay for tight security on the site as well. It was a good start.
* * *
When they opened the sarcophagus they came face to face with an embalmed woman’s naked mutilated body. They were horrified. Their faces became white masks and they felt guilty that they were desecrating this body, disturbing its sleep. In silence they mourned the dead person released from its home.
Eventually they carefully lifted the body and below it uncovered a plaque with indecipherable writing on it.
* * *
The new discovery changed everything. This excavation indeed seemed bigger than he had imagined. Giorgos took indefinite leave from his job at the University in Athens. He would need to spend a lot more time on their dig in Cappadocia. Who knew what else they would discover, where this discovery would lead them?
It was an exciting prospect and Giorgos relished the challenge. He could feel there was more, a lot more, to this story and prepared himself to be surprised further.
CHAPTER 19
Limassol, Cyprus
Present day
Katerina was standing on the balcony overlooking the old harbour. She was lost in thought. She felt the tremor alright. If she had wanted a ride like that, she would have gone to the theme park down the road or into the washing machine for a few minutes.
The shake lasted for only a couple of minutes, but it was strong and it felt longer than that. Looking out at the city it was not a pretty sight. Her gaze kept turning to the great church of Ayia Napa that for those couple of minutes stirred as if some mysterious mischievous force had breathed life into it, as if it was put inside a giant blender by some cook eager to show his culinary skills.
She was suddenly frightened for her family and for anyone that may have fallen victim to the earthquake’s angry force. She tried to call her loved ones, but the lines were down.
She could not stay there. She had to find out that they were alright. And she wanted to go out and see what she could do to help others.
* * *
The hit was devastating. It spread across the island like a set up of dominoes had been triggered, like a ‘Mexican wave’. It was as if a dark blanket had in a couple of minutes being thrown over the island and being pressed down until everything under it was crushed.
Whole sections of towns flattened in the quake’s wake, whole villages wiped out, countless lives shattered. A toothless army of empty shells and empty eyes. A nameless army of ghosts, an army of the living dead, inhabiting temporary camps with no personal belongings or mementoes, no soul, a sea of memories being the only barrier between them and insanity.
Katerina was the daughter of Andros Markantaskis, a businessman and amateur archaeologist. Her brother, Giorgos, had got the archaeology bug and, when not based in Athens, was off on one dig or other.
The Markantaskis family immediately put their considerable financial resources in the service of their fellow citizens. They became part of a huge effort to mobilise the country in the relief effort. Katerina and her mother hit the ground running to contribute in this effort, organising medical care and food preparation and caring for the orphan children and the widowed and all those who had lost loved ones.
All around them were acts of extreme bravery and extraordinary humanity. At least it was a relief to see that in times of crisis, amidst all the chaos and the upheaval, people knew where their heart lay, what really mattered and tried to keep some perspective and help others to do so too. It was not easy.
Elli lost no time in mobilising her own family and the resources of the Valchern Corporation to help her people and her country recover from the disaster that befell them.
It was during one of Katerina’s visits to one of the camps that she met Aristo. She did not notice any feelings stirring in her then. She was just too exhausted from all the backbreaking work to bother with joy and any thoughts of personal fulfilment had been pushed from her mind.
There was simply too much to do. She caught up on sleep at all times, whether leaning on a wall, sitting in a chair or lying under a tree. The unbearable heat made the work of the volunteers harder. The camps were a miserable place, with ashen, empty faces wherever you looked, the cries of babies, the weeping and screaming of men and women often breaking through an ominous silence, and the dust, that seemingly harmless dust that had become a curse and that had enveloped everything and everyone, draining the life out of them, eating them alive and once finished spitting them out.
Yet there were happy cries of children playing with whatever was at hand, oblivious to the unfolding tragedy around them. Katerina and her mother cried often in their private moments. They could hardly speak to each other when this tear-filled face-melting glory took over.
* * *
It was a few months later that Katerina and Aristo started to pay attention to their feelings for each other. Aristo knew he was hooked the moment he first saw her in her dirty overalls sweeping the floor in the camp.
He knew she was special before he had even spoken to her. When a semblance of normality returned to their lives, he asked her out to dinner and surprisingly she accepted straight away.
* * *
Katerina had good teachers, a mother and father that set a great example for her and her brother to follow. Katerina’s mother, Anna, was an industrious and indomitable woman. Her cool, inscrutable exterior belied her passion for life, for creativity, for business and for caring and helping others. She gave a lot of herself and was devoted to any one of the many projects she had going at any one time.
In the destruction of Smyrna in 1922 by Kemal’s armies, her family, the Paresterises, had lost everything, one of the most prominent families in Smyrna reduced to poverty. On top of that, loved ones were killed and others disappeared and were still missing, their fate unknown.
It was a tragedy she would never forget, was not allowed to forget by her grandmother who happily regaled her with stories of the charmed life of Smyrna. Even though she had never seen it, through her grandmother’s stories, through her grandmother’s eyes, she felt she knew the city intimately, as if she had lived there. The city or the snapshot of it in 1922 became part of her.
Her mother tried on the one hand to shield her as much as she could from the harsh realities of life, but she also taught her how she could cope outside her privileged environment, so that by being aware of her position she would help those who were less privileged.
Her journey to learn to hug those in need with a vengeance started at home, then the next house, then down the road, then down the slope and into the world and the mixed up humanity of the world below.
Her mother gave her the unique perspective of the value of life. She opened Katerina’s eyes to the real world and its possibilities and the value of being creative in work and outside it; those were, certainly, not bad values to accompany you in life. Not for her the idleness of many of her class who led a spoiled life from mighty fake towers and gilded prisons above the humid crowd.
Her mother felt a slight pinch of guilt at setting such a burden of her family’s history on Katerina’s shoulders, with a little help from her own mother, but that history was important if Katerina’s generation were not to waste the future.
Katerina had the ruthlessness required in business and compassion to remain a member of the human race, a member of the society, and not the charmed circle, she was born into. She only wished the new generation had the guts to rise above the vortex of mediocrity and self-interest that characterised the majority of the political elite in Greece and in Cyprus, which had led to devastat
ing consequences throughout the history of these two countries the fate of which was inextricably linked to each other; this feeling was shared by both mother and daughter.
It was the defeatist attitude that Katerina fiercely hated and wanted to change. Katerina was determined to be a protagonist in doing her bit. She was made of steel, but still wore her big heart on her sleeve and opened it up to others with confidence and strength but with humility.
Katerina felt that the next few months and years would challenge the endurance of her and her loved ones. She had an impending sense of doom, a fear that events would hit them like a maelstrom and, as if in tandem with the mayhem around them, shatter the picture of an otherwise idyllic family life and dispel any illusions of a peaceful life filled with the welcome boredom of routine, and the occasional exhilaration.
CHAPTER 20
Limassol, Cyprus
Present day
Aristo had decided that it was time for his mother and Katerina to meet. Today was the big day that he was to introduce her to his mother. It would be Katerina’s first visit to the famous mansion on the peak and a meeting with the legendary Elli Symitzis. The meeting was arranged three days earlier to slot into Elli’s hectic schedule.
Aristo and Katerina were now standing outside his mother’s home, the house in which Aristo grew up in, the house that was firmly lodged in the deepest regions of his heart. Katerina was rooted to the spot enthralled by the house she had heard so much about. None of what she had heard did the house justice and that was just the outside first impression.
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