By the time he got there, Mikis was crouching over a women in a short skirt and white blouse, who was on her front. There was blood on her arms.
Mavros joined him and they rolled the woman on to her side. Blood came from her mouth, as well as a couple of teeth.
‘Bastards,’ Mikis hissed.
The woman moaned and opened her eyes, looking at them blearily as she spat out more blood.
‘Yiota?’ Mavros asked. ‘Yiota Prevelaki?’
‘Yes,’ she said weakly.
‘Where’s Maria?’
The woman tried to focus. ‘Maria? She’s. . she’s inside.’
‘Shit,’ Mikis said. ‘Stay with her.’ He stepped over her legs and headed inside. A few seconds later, there was a loud crash and the sound of subdued male voices.
‘Stay on your side,’ Mavros said, getting up and going into the kitchen.
By the time he made it to the hall, the front door was open. Mikis was lying motionless a metre inside. Two men in black, caps drawn low over their faces, were carrying a woman out of the gate, her long black hair hanging down.
‘Stop!’ Mavros said, looking for Mikis’s pistol. It was nowhere to be seen. He ran down the steps, brandishing the kitchen knife. ‘Stop thieves!’ He hoped that would attract attention from passers-by.
The men were pulling shut the doors of the pickup when he got to the street. The engine roared and it veered out into the street, provoking vigorous horn blowing from an old man in an ancient Fiat. Mavros squinted into the late morning sun and tried unsuccessfully to make out the number plate. He cursed himself for not taking it earlier — the vehicle was the kind that men from Kornaria drove.
Running back to the house, he turned Mikis on to his side and made sure his airway was clear. There was a nasty wound on the side of his temple, blood welling from it.
Mavros called for an ambulance as he headed back to the woman. She had pulled herself up and was sitting against the doorframe, her head back.
‘Did you recognize the men, Yiota?’ he asked, checking that she was breathing without obstruction.
‘No. . one. . one of them knocked on the door and they. . they just pushed in, grabbed me by the hair. I managed. . to pull away and run this way, but one of the pigs caught up with me and punched me. .’
He found a cloth and soaked it in water. ‘Here, hold this against your mouth.’
He looked back at Mikis. He hadn’t changed position, but his chest was moving.
The paramedics arrived quickly and looked the casualties over. One of them led Yiota to the ambulance and then returned to help his colleague with the still unconscious Mikis.
‘I don’t like the look of that wound,’ he said, turning to Mavros. ‘What happened?’
‘He was hit, I don’t know what with. Maybe a pistol butt.’
The men exchanged glances and started to move Mikis on to a stretcher.
‘Take them to the West Crete Clinic, please,’ he said, slipping the Cretan’s phone and car keys out of his pocket. His large knife must have been removed along with the Colt.
Before he went to the Jeep, Mavros scrolled down the phone book and found the entry for ‘Dad’. Inhaling deeply, he called Mr Tsifakis and explained what had happened.
‘We’ll see you at the clinic,’ Mikis’s father said, with impressive composure. ‘Don’t call the police.’
I wasn’t thinking of it, Mavros said to himself, as he walked past the overturned wheelchair.
But the police, in the form of Inspector Margaritis and a bull-chested sidekick, were waiting for him at the clinic.
‘Alex Mavro,’ the inspector said, with a thin smile. ‘You’ve been poking your nose in all sorts of places.’ He pointed at the dressing on Mavros’s neck. ‘You should be more careful.’
‘You should be looking for Rudolf Kersten’s killer.’
‘Rudolf Kersten killed Rudolf Kersten,’ was Margaritis’s riposte. ‘The forensic examiner’s report is in.’
‘That was very quick.’
‘We don’t have as many suspicious deaths as you do in the big city.’
Mavros made to move past them. ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to see how my friend is.’
‘This won’t take a minute,’ the inspector said, grabbing his arm and pressing long nails through Mavros’s shirt. ‘Get off the island, you meddling piece of shit. There’s nothing to keep you here.’
Mavros said nothing about Maria Kondos’s abduction. ‘You’re not the first person to say that. Who’s paying you?’ He leaned close to the thin man’s sparsely covered head. In the background he saw a large man with grey hair and a face that was a heavier version of Mikis’s. The woman next to him was almost as bulky and her face was set hard as she looked at the policemen. He reckoned he could go put the boot in. ‘Waggoner? Roufos? Or the wankers up in Kornaria?’
Margaritis dropped his arm like it was a piece of carrion. ‘You-’
‘You fuck off,’ Mavros said, glaring. ‘If you want to arrest me, go ahead.’ The inspector stood motionless. ‘Thought not.’
‘What happened to the woman and young Tsifakis?’
‘Slipped on a step.’
Margaritis snorted. ‘Both of them? Anyway, that’s not what we heard. There was another woman.’
Some citizen of Galatsi had obviously become suspicious when Maria was carried out of the house.
Mikis’s parents came over.
‘What’s going on, Inspector?’ his father demanded.
‘Nothing,’ Margaritis said, with an unctuous bow. ‘We’re finished.’ He departed.
‘Haris Tsifakis,’ the big man said, extending a thick-fingered hand. ‘My wife, Eleni. Pleased to finally meet you, Mr Mavro.’
‘Alex, please.’ Mavros shook their hands. ‘I’m very sorry about-’
‘No need for that,’ Tsifakis said brusquely. ‘Mikis can look after himself.’
‘Not this time,’ his wife said, looking into Mavros’s eyes. ‘We know you and Mikis have put yourselves up against some of the island’s most dangerous people. That shows courage. But tell me that you didn’t lead my son into unnecessary danger.’
‘To be honest, he’s been the one leading me most of the time,’ Mavros said, provoking a grin from Mikis’s father.
‘That’s my boy. Let’s go and see how he is.’
Mavros led them to the lifts and they went up to the fourth floor.
‘You again,’ said Doctor Stavrakakis to Mavros. ‘Do you like this place so much you’re going to take up residence?’
‘How is my son?’ Eleni put in.
‘Excuse me, Mrs Tsifaki.’ The family was obviously well known. ‘I’m afraid he’s still unconscious. We’re carrying out various tests, but there’s little I can tell you now.’ He glanced at Mavros. ‘As our Athenian friend knows, head wounds are unpredictable. How is Ms Kondos?’
‘She was kidnapped this morning.’
The neurologist looked less taken aback than he might have done.
‘The woman that came in with Mikis, how is she?’
‘Mrs Prevelaki? I checked her. There’s no significant head trauma, though she’ll have to be wary of concussion. She’s downstairs having her lip stitched. I think you know the way. You might take the opportunity to have that dressing changed.’
The doctor nodded to Mikis’s parents and walked away.
‘This is connected with those drug-dealing bastards in Kornaria, isn’t it?’ Haris said. ‘Don’t worry about the vendetta. We can come back at them with plenty of firepower.’
His wife nodded avidly, making Mavros glad he was on their side.
‘In the meantime, we’ll stay to see how Mikis gets on,’ she said. ‘Let us know when you need help.’
Mavros nodded and walked to the stairs, noting that she had said ‘when’ rather than ‘if’. That didn’t make him feel great, though he appreciated their support. He’d much rather have had the gun-wielding Mikis by his side.
Yiota Prevelaki was
sitting outside the treatment room on the ground floor, with a dressing around her mouth.
Mavros took the seat next to her. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘They gave me a local anaesthetic,’ she said, lisping. ‘I’ll be all right until it wears off.’
‘Then you just take painkillers.’
The woman looked at him. ‘Maria told me about you. How you saved her from those animals in Kornaria.’
‘That was my friend upstairs more than me.’
‘There was something about a rock in an armed man’s face?’
‘Ah, that. I got lucky.’
She smiled with difficulty. ‘You’re too modest, Mr Mavro.’
‘Alex, please. Are you waiting for someone?’
‘No, my husband’s on a ship in the Pacific. I was summoning up strength to call a taxi.’
‘I’ll take you home.’
When they were in the Jeep, Mavros made a mess of engaging first gear.
‘Your friend’s a driver, isn’t he?’ Yiota said. ‘The Tsifakis family is an important one in Chania.’
He nodded. ‘I hope he pulls through.’
‘So do I. What are you going to do now? Maria must be back in Kornaria now. You can’t go up there. They’ll use you for target practice.’
‘I’ll deal with that when I have to. First, I need to know more about your cousin.’ He pulled on to the main road heading west.
‘I can’t tell you much-ow!’
‘Careful,’ Mavros said, touching his own dressing, which he’d forgotten to get changed. ‘That spray will be wearing off.’
Yiota nodded slowly. ‘There isn’t much I can tell you about Maria, Alex. We exchange emails from time to time, but we’ve never been close. I didn’t even see her when the film crew arrived — until she called me yesterday afternoon.’
‘Did you go to pick her up from the Heavenly Blue?’
‘I don’t drive. No, she came in a taxi — not one of the Tsifakis cars. She got the driver to pick her up from the back of the hotel.’
‘So she told you she’d been in Kornaria.’
‘Yes, she said she’d gone for a walk outside the resort on Sunday evening — something about being sick of being cooped up — and that a car stopped and the driver offered her a lift.’
‘Did she know the driver — was it a man or a woman?’
‘A man, I think, but she didn’t say whether she knew him. Someone was hiding in the back seat and suddenly a hood was over her head and a rope round her neck. She was pushed forward so that she was out of sight.’
‘Sounds like the guys who grabbed her today — or equally proficient hard men.’
Yiota Prevelaki turned to him. ‘Not everyone in our family is worthy of approbation, Alex.’ She stared at his expression. ‘What? A village woman isn’t allowed to use learned vocabulary? I trained as a teacher, but my husband’s family doesn’t allow me to work.’ There was a weight of pain in her voice.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, embarrassed both by underestimating her and at the plight of an educated woman in a Cretan village. ‘Don’t worry, I know about the Kondoyannis family in Florida and the delightful Michael “the Bat”.’
‘Oh,’ she said, surprised. ‘Well, I have nothing to do with them.’
They drove past the gate to the resort, which was now besieged by even more journalists and reporters.
‘Rudolf Kersten was a hero to many people here,’ Yiota said.
Mavros made no comment, still unsure what to believe about the old German’s activities.
‘I don’t know much about the film Maria is working on, though,’ Yiota said. ‘Have you met Cara Parks?’
‘I have.’
‘What’s she like? She doesn’t strike me as the most likely Cretan resistance hero.’
Mavros got the feeling she was leading the conversation in another direction.
‘Listen, Yiota, your cousin is in serious danger. I don’t know if she told you, but she didn’t say anything to us about what happened to her in Kornaria. If I’m going to have any chance of rescuing her again, I need to know everything about her.’
His passenger lowered her head. ‘I can’t, Alex. She’s family.’
‘She’ll be dead family soon!’ he shouted, making her jolt upright. ‘Is that what you want?’
Yiota Prevelaki was quiet until he drew up outside her house. Then she turned to him and spoke in a low voice.
‘The only thing Maria told me was that another Greek-American family has muscled in on the Kondoyannis business, including her father’s links with the Kornaria producers. They seem to think she has something to do with the drugs trade.’
‘And she doesn’t?’
‘No!’ Yiota exclaimed.
‘Are you sure of that?’
Her gaze dropped. ‘No,’ she answered.
Mavros got out and walked her to the front door.
‘Please try to get her back,’ the woman said softly.
‘I will,’ Mavros said, squeezing her hand.
As he walked back to the Jeep, he wondered if the other Greek-American family was that of Luke Jannet and Rosie Yellenberg. Despite their assurances that they had nothing to do with their father’s activities, had they been playing him for a fool from the start?
Cara Parks called as Mavros was approaching the Heavenly Blue. He told her he’d be with her shortly. First, he intended to talk to Hildegard Kersten. Though he had little to tell her, he had some questions.
The widow expressed shock when she saw his neck and was patently unconvinced when he said his razor had slipped. She welcomed him into the apartment, which was the same as it had been when her husband was alive, apart from orderly piles of paper on the desk. She brought coffee and sat down on the sofa next to him.
‘So, Alex, have you found anything out about my Rudi?’
‘I presume you’ve heard from the police that his death has been classified as suicide by the medical examiner?’
She nodded slowly, her lips tightly pressed together. ‘You know as well as I do how unreliable those people are. All they want is a quiet life.’
Don’t we all, Mavros thought, taking a deep breath. ‘Hildegard, I’m getting conflicting stories about your husband.’
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, eyebrows rising.
‘According to David Waggoner, Rudolf did take part in the massacre in Makrymari. A witness told him so.’
‘Waggoner!’ the widow scoffed. ‘You can’t believe anything that man says.’
‘If your husband didn’t shoot any civilians, why did he pay blackmail for all those years?’
Hildegard sighed and put down her cup. ‘Alex, you must understand. Coming to Crete to live in the Sixties was very difficult for us, but Rudi felt it was his duty to put back as much as he could into the local economy to make up for what happened during the war. As you can imagine, many people didn’t want us and they particularly didn’t want us to build the resort. Rudi eventually convinced the Cretans he was serious by funding village regeneration projects, by setting up scholarships for poor students and so on. But in order to get the permits to start building here, he had to be seen to be cleaner than clean.’
It struck Mavros that there were similarities between the appearance Kersten had to project and the appearances necessary to get funding in Hollywood that Rosie Yellenberg had described.
‘I still don’t understand why he felt he had to pay David Waggoner off.’
The widow looked beyond him towards the sea, which was a mid-afternoon pale-blue, only a few white horses whipped up by the breeze. ‘Alex, I can’t be sure what Rudi did at Makrymari. I’m not sure he knew himself, no matter what he wrote in his diary. He’d received a severe head wound. It may be that, deep down, he saw himself as a cold-blooded murderer of women, boys and old men.’
From what Mavros had seen of the soft-spoken Kersten with his life-worn eyes, that possibility couldn’t be ruled out. But he was sure there was more.
�
�What about Kornaria?’ he asked, his tone hardening.
Hildegard regarded him cautiously. ‘The drugs village? What about it?’
Mavros slumped back. ‘If you want me to find out what happened to Rudi — and I know it was murder — you’ll have to help me. Were the Kornariates blackmailing him too?’
‘No, no,’ the old woman said, her eyes holding his. ‘Waggoner was earning enough for all of them.’
‘What do you mean?’
She looked down. ‘The Englishman wasn’t simply blackmailing us because of Rudi’s wartime deeds, whether he took part in the massacre or not. He was extracting protection money. On this island, especially back in the Sixties, you needed someone to look after your property. I don’t think Kornaria was producing many drugs back then. The mountain men watched over us when the resort was being built. They invested those earnings in marijuana cultivation sheds, from what I’ve heard.’
‘And Waggoner was their intermediary?’
‘That’s right. When Rudi told him we had no more money, he started asking about the coin collection. Rudi couldn’t countenance him getting that and said so.’
‘When?’
‘More than once, but the last time was only a few days ago — on Saturday.’ Hildegard went over to the desk and took some papers from one of the piles. ‘I found these when I was going through the drawers here.’ She handed them to Mavros.
He ran his eyes down the sheets. They were copies of emails that Rudolf Kersten had sent to Waggoner in the days before his death. In them, he threatened to expose the former SOE man as a blackmailer if he didn’t leave him alone. They could certainly be construed as a motive for murder.
‘My God,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about these before?’
‘I only found them today.’ Hildegard looked at him gravely. ‘They mean he arranged for Rudi’s death, don’t they?’
‘It certainly looks that way. You have to give them to the police.’
She shook her head. ‘No. I told you, they are worthless. It wouldn’t surprise me if Inspector Margaritis was in the pay of Waggoner and the Kornariates — many of the local politicians and officials are.’
Mavros glanced around the room. ‘Where are the coins?’
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