Chapter 78
At five o’clock the next morning, Demos arrived in Patra to join them.
He’d gone back to the ferries office in Athens as commanded, had shown Christoforou’s photograph to the secretary and had been told ‘Yes, that’s Kyriacou’.”
This was as close confirmation as they could get, without spending weeks or breaking into the ferries office in the dead of night.
Meanwhile, Ashby was awake. Over a coffee, he and Stefanides decided that there was nothing to lose by taking a quick walk around the Poseidon IV when it docked at the harbour terminal.
Nikos had also woken up and insisted on joining them.
“You’re still in a bad way, Nikos,” said Ashby. “We don’t even know if Christoforou is going to be on the ship. Maybe it would be better if you stayed in the hotel.”
“I could keep a lookout for you. And do you know your way around a ship ? I do, I used to be a sailor.”
“Alright, come with us down to the quay and we’ll see what happens from there.”
“And don’t try and play the hero,” his wife said when he told her he was going with the others.
Before they left, they sketched out a plan of the ferry.
Nikos said that the crew’s quarters were likely to be at the stern of the ship, above deck. When the ferry docked at the quay, a small number of the crew would be organising the unloading of trucks and cars from the hold. Some of them would be clearing out the galley and restaurant after the passengers had finished breakfast or cleaning the cabins when everyone had left the ship. Most of the crew would be eager to go ashore to see their families after two days at sea. The captain or the chief officer would be on the bridge or inspecting each of the decks to make sure everything was safely stowed and secured and that the hold was empty. As Christoforou had been a captain himself, he might be supervising this.
As they walked down the hill to the waterfront, the Poseidon IV was just tying up at the quay. Demos had a small telescope and was observing the activity on the decks.
On the upper companionway, near the bridge, a large imposing figure with a bald head could be seen talking to one of the other crewmen.
“There, on the bridge, that looks like him. Have a look,” said Demos, as he handed the telescope to Stefanides.
“I can’t see him. Where did you say ?”
“The upper deck leading to the bridge.”
“The ferry’s turning now so it’s difficult to see,” said Ashby. “Why do you think it was him ?”
“The man I saw looked like the police photo – tall, fat, bald, glasses – and in an officer’s uniform.”
“How many of the crew would look like that ?” asked Stefanides. “I wouldn’t expect him to be working as a deck hand, would you ? Why don’t we take a closer look. Come on, let’s go on board. If anyone asks, we’re there to see the Captain on company business.”
No-one did ask and they walked straight into the almost empty hold, such had been the urgency of the truck and car drivers to get off the ship.
They climbed up a steep set of steel stairs onto one of the lower decks and then another two sets of stairs until they reached the main deck on the port side which faced away from the centre of town.
All the activity of arrival was happening through the up-ended stern facing the quay as the passengers disembarked down escalators and lifts to exits adjacent to the hold at ground level.
On the main deck, none of the crew were around. The galley, restaurant and inner deck with bars and shops were deserted.
“Let’s go down this way,” said Nikos, “to the rear deck. The crew’s cabins are probably there.”
On the way, they encountered no-one, as if the ferry was empty. Down a long corridor which had doors on both sides, they eventually arrived at a cabin whose door was wide open with bedsheets thrown on the floor and a vacuum cleaner whining incessantly from within.
Stefanides looked inside the cabin and asked in Greek where the crew’s quarters were located.
“Straight on, turn left, along that corridor,” came the answer. “Who are you looking for ?” asked the cleaner.
“Kyriacou.”
“I’ll show you which cabin it is – you probably won’t find it otherwise.”
“Thanks but we don’t want to hold you up in your work.”
“No trouble at all.”
As they walked along, the cleaner spoke to Stefanides.
“Why do you want to see Kyriacou ?”
“We’re friends of his. We wanted to take him for a drink.”
“Maybe my friends and I can join you,” suggested the cleaner.
By now they were half way down the artificially-lit corridor of cabins, at the end of which stood three men who appeared to be part of the crew.
“Which one is Kyriacou’s cabin ?” asked Stefanides.
“None of them. And you’re not going anywhere except off the ship,” said the cleaner who had halted, turned around and was facing them at the head of the three men obstructing their way. “This lot are busy-bodies, looking for Kyriacou,” the cleaner told the other crewmen in Greek. One of them said, “You’d better leave the ship now while you’re in one piece.”
Evidently, Christoforou’s crew-mates knew his real identity and wanted to shield him from outsiders asking questions.
“We came here to see Kyriacou and we’re not going until we do.”
“You must be mistaken. There’s no-one here of that name, so on your way.”
“And if we won’t go ?”
“We’ll throw all of you over the side, now move.”
Just as the confrontation was about to erupt, a man dressed in a blue cap and blazer with brass buttons and gold braided stripes came down the corridor behind Ashby and the others.
“What’s going on ?” he said with the air of authority of either the first officer or the Captain of the ship.
“Nothing, sir,” said the cleaner. “These men have lost their way and were just leaving.”
“Are you the Captain ?” said Ashby in English.
“Yes, I am the Captain.”
“We’re looking for one of your officers or crew – Kyriacou.”
“Who are you and what are you doing on my ship ?”
“Captain, we need to speak to you on a very important matter. Can we talk privately somewhere ?”
By now, the Captain had guessed that the trouble he’d dreaded had finally arrived and there was no way of avoiding it. He could see from the cut of Ashby’s Burberry jacket that some sort of officialdom was involved. Stefanides’ business-like attitude backed that up.
“Alright, come with me. And you others,” he said addressing the crew, “get on with your work. We have a quick turn-around today and have to be out of the port by six o’clock.”
He led them back to the restaurant area and said “We are alone. Now tell me, who are you and why are you here ?”
“I’m Robert Ashby and I am an insurer from London. Here is my card. I’m here to find a member of your crew – Kyriacou.”
At first, the Captain thought he could threaten his way out of the enquiries and said “I don’t care who you are. You just can’t come onto my ship like this. You will have to leave.”
“One moment, Captain. We wanted to talk to you first before we alerted the Ital-Grec Line in Athens.”
“I am the law on this ship. Tell me – what is all this about ? What do you want ? Why are you here ?”
“We think you know already,” said Ashby. “Firstly, you do have a man in your crew called Kyriacou, don’t you ?”
“Please state your business, Mr Ashby.”
“You may know already that his real name is not Kyriacou but Christoforou – Constantinos Christoforou – he was once a ship’s master, like you.”
The Captain said nothing and waited for Ashby to say more.
“Christoforou was the master of a ship which sank off the coast of Portugal around two years ago – the Captain S
tratos.”
Again, the Captain said nothing and was waiting to see what the connection was between Kyriacou, Christoforou and Ashby.
“Did you know about this, Captain ?”
Yet again, the Captain remained silent and looked away from them.
“Well, Captain ? We are ready to bring in the police and Interpol, then questions will be asked.”
“Police ? Please – I have asked you to explain to me what this has to do with.....” and looking at Ashby’s card, he read, “Plantation Reinsurance of London.”
Ashby then described the background to the marine policy taken out by Hellas Global and the loss of the Captain Stratos, its cargo and crew – and its master.
“In London, the court has ordered us to pay a very large amount of money to the shipowners, Hellas Global of Athens. The claim is a criminal fraud. Hellas Global arranged for Christoforou to sink their ship and then for him to disappear. We know that Captain Christoforou and the Chief Engineer did not die when the ship went down. The Chief Engineer is at this moment working on an oil tanker travelling between Rotterdam and the Persian Gulf. We traced Christoforou to your ship from information we received and in fact, he came to my hotel room in Athens two weeks ago and threatened me. We know he’s here. He didn’t tell you anything about the Captain Stratos, did he ? So, where is he ?”
“Alright.....you are correct. He did not tell me anything. He said he wanted a job and that he’d lost his master’s ticket. I said I would help him. But I didn’t know that he was a criminal.”
“What else did he tell you, Captain ? Were you surprised to see him in such a bad way ?”
“Yes, very surprised. He was a master mariner, after all, like myself. He suddenly appeared one day out of nowhere, about six months ago, looking for work. He said he’d run out of money, that he was waiting for a big investment to pay out and that he’d been travelling. He looked untidy and his clothes were worn out. I felt sorry for him so I agreed to help him get back on his feet again. But I didn’t expect.....what you have told me.”
“Did he say where he’d been or what he’d been doing before that ?”
“No but he seemed to be glad he was home again in Greece and that wherever he’d been, had not been very hospitable.”
“Where is his cabin ?”
“This way – but he might have gone ashore already.”
The Captain led them onto the main deck and one of the outer cabins where he knocked on the door. After some moments, they knew there was no-one inside. The Captain took out a set of keys and was able to unlock the door. Inside, the cabin was a complete mess. All of the drawers and cupboards had nothing in them. There were only discarded clothes and other personal items of rubbish in the room along with empty beer and wine bottles, odd bits of packaging, ripped up paper, old magazines and newspapers.
“What a pigsty. How can anyone live like this ?” said Nikos.
“It looks like he’s gone,” said Stefanides.
“Has he left the ship, Captain ?” asked Ashby.
The Captain said Christoforou probably had shore leave that day and may have taken a week’s break owing to him.
“Do you know where he would have gone ? Is he sailing with the ship tonight ? The police will want to speak with you and that may hold up your departure from Patra on time.”
“If he is sailing with us tonight, he would have to be back on board by four o’clock to help get the ship ready to leave on the tide at six o’clock. I don’t know where he usually goes in Patra.”
“He must have given you an address where he lived when he first joined your ship,” said Stefanides.
“He did – it’s in the Purser’s Office.”
While they had been talking with the Captain, Demos had noticed some rubbish which had been burned in the waste paper bin. He tipped out the ashes on the floor and began sifting through it. Not everything had caught alight as it was done in a rush. Too much smoke would have set off the sprinkler system in the cabins.
Carefully, Demos removed one or two pieces of charred and burned paper on which some words were barely legible in handwritten Greek.
After placing them above the light from a desk lamp, he read the words “Lagos..... Lyons.....Rome.....” from one of the fragments. The rest were lists of numbers, parking tickets and old receipts.
Let’s go with the Captain,” said Stefanides. “There is nothing here of any use. We may be able to get him if he comes back at four.”
“Perhaps you and Demos could go,” said Ashby. “Nikos and I will take a closer look around here and we’ll join you in ten minutes.”
After having a dig around in the disorder left by Christoforou in his cabin, Ashby and Nikos found their way to the Purser’s Office where the ship’s records were kept.
Stefanides and Demos had been given two addresses where they might find Christoforou. The Captain agreed that if Christoforou came back to the ship at four that afternoon, he would call the police to arrest him.
After thanking the Captain for his help, they left the ferry the way they had come – through the hold.
“I know that Captain,” said Nikos. “I remember him but he doesn’t remember me. I sailed with him ten years ago – and he’s still the same. Don’t trust him. He is probably getting a crewman right now to tip off Christoforou that you’re onto him. He just wants the problem off his ship and to be away on time tonight.”
“I expected that,” said Ashby. “It’s just as likely that Hellas Global sent a message to Christoforou when the ferry docked in Bari that we were looking for him. He may have jumped over the side when he was in Italy yesterday. But somehow, I think he’ll turn up again very soon.”
Plantation A Legal Thriller Page 78