Stolen Heritage: Gripping Crime Thriller (Private Detective Heinrich Muller Crime Thriller Book 3)
Page 11
He got to the intersection and bolted to the right.
Then stopped.
The lane ended within a few yards, with half-ruined houses on all three sides. Doorways stood open on all sides, but he saw no sign of Thalia.
“Thalia!” he called as loudly as he dared.
No response.
And no time to dawdle. The right-hand house led upslope. Bad choice. The one to the left looked small. A dead end?
He went for the house straight ahead.
Beyond the doorway lay a small room, shadowed from the sun by the high walls but still much too exposed for Heinrich’s liking. A doorway on the right of the far wall led somewhere out of sight, while a fallen portion of the same wall on the left-hand side allowed for another exit.
Heinrich decided to choose that, as it was the less likely way for Thalia to have gone. Thus, she had probably chosen it to shake her pursuers.
He clambered over the crumbling brick, wincing as one clattered to the ground, and ducked through a gap in another wall to his left.
Now he found himself in a nearly complete building. The faded fresco of a grim monk studied him from high up one wall. The monk’s mouth formed a disapproving line from behind a long gray beard.
“Thalia,” Heinrich whispered.
No response.
Footsteps from somewhere behind him told him he had to get going. Two doorways opened in the direction he needed to go. He picked the first and was stopped by a heap of rubble. He returned to the room with the fresco.
He froze. The sound of footsteps had been replaced by silence.
Why had they stopped? Had they come to the dead end lane with the three houses? Where they trying to figure out which way to go, like he had?
He crept to the other door only to find that it opened onto a zigzagged heap of ruins and waist-high sections of wall.
Heinrich bit his lip. Moving through that could get noisy, but he didn’t dare move back the way he’d come.
Two sounds met his ears, one following so close on the heels of the other as to sound almost simultaneous.
Footsteps somewhere behind him and the clatter of a small stone somewhere in that maze of ruins ahead of him.
Neither sound had been loud. If he hadn’t been standing stock-still in this otherwise abandoned ghost town, Heinrich wouldn’t have heard the sounds at all.
He crept forward, watching each step and placing his feet carefully. Bricks and loose stones lay everywhere, ready to trip him up or make some noise.
He peered around, not seeing anyone.
Damn it, where was Thalia? She’d panicked and gotten too far ahead. Now she had landed herself in more trouble than she’d been in before.
All right, if I were frightened, where would I hide?
Well, I am frightened. What place looks safest?
He moved to the right, skirting a wall that stood about four feet high. He’d rather be on the back side of it, putting yet another barrier between himself and his pursuers, but the wall had fallen downslope. Walking on that side would make so much noise, they’d hear him all the way back in Sparti.
The wall led Heinrich around a corner and into a little courtyard. Arched doorways opened on three sides. Whatever lay beyond was in deep shadow. The way he had come was more open, exposed. He had to get out of sight.
But which way? Thalia knew which direction to head, but Heinrich was moving blind. He had to find her. He didn’t want to picture what those thugs might do if they caught up with her.
The sound of a stone being displaced somewhere in the tangle of ruins behind him spurred him on. He took the path straight ahead.
The arched doorway led to a large room that led to another, smaller room from which there was only one exit. This opened into a lane and ruined buildings all around. It was far too exposed. A flitting shadow uphill, quickly gone, warned him that to go out there would mean getting spotted. Thalia wouldn’t still be uphill. She must be far ahead by now—maybe, with any luck, even down at the caretaker’s office.
He turned back, intending to return to the courtyard and take the left-hand archway.
However, as soon as he got to the main room, Heinrich withdrew to the shadows. The sound of at least two people entering the courtyard was loud and clear in his ears.
Two? And someone uphill? Had the guy he hit with the rocks recovered so quickly? Or were more people after them now?
Then they appeared, Unibrow and the other one. Both clambered over the rough area through which Heinrich had entered the courtyard. Each gripped a knife that gleamed in the bright sunlight.
Heinrich drew back farther, not daring to breathe. If he heard them coming this way, he’d have to run for it. They’d hear him but maybe he’d make it to the caretaker’s place before they did.
But then what? The thieves would be exposed, and they’d be forced to kill the old ticket seller as well as Heinrich.
They talked in low tones, too softly for Heinrich to pick out the words. Then he heard their footsteps moving forward.
Moving in his direction.
A call from downhill made them stop. A scream followed it.
A woman’s scream.
Heinrich heard them running away.
Shit.
He peeked out from the archway but didn’t see them. He heard them, though. They had taken the other archway, the one that led downhill.
Grabbing a brick to use as a crude weapon, he followed.
There was a call in Greek, and a quick response. Another female scream, cut short. He heard the footsteps ahead grow quicker, and he hurried to follow.
Heinrich tried to keep as close to them as possible without revealing himself. They made no more attempts to hide their movements. Instead, they called out to their companion to find their way to him through the labyrinth of ruins and empty buildings. Once Heinrich spotted them, two hulking figures going around a far corner, but they did not look back. They seemed to have lost all interest in finding him.
That’s because if they have Thalia, they know I’m helpless.
He heard a babble of voices up ahead, down the end of a narrow alley between two buildings that still stood up to the second story, their roofs collapsed, their empty shells open to the sky.
Hefting his brick, Heinrich crept to the end of the alley and peeked around the corner.
Unibrow and the other ex-soldier stood not far off. Both still held their knives. A third man, one of the nondescript guys from the fight in the back of the van, gripped Thalia. He held one arm around her waist and the other clamped over her mouth.
That didn’t stop her from fighting. She stamped on his foot, clawed at his face, and tried to knee him in the crotch. The guy swung her around, trying to keep her off balance, but he was getting the worst of it. In another minute or two she’d break free.
The two thugs found all this terribly amusing. They laughed and encouraged Thalia.
She finally connected with that knee. Groaning and swearing, the guy let go. Thalia tried to run, but Unibrow snatched her and put the knife to her throat.
The archaeologist froze.
“Let’s go,” said the other soldier.
Heinrich ducked out of sight as they turned back in the direction of the alley. He heard their footsteps approach and raised his brick. Three against one, and two of them had knives.
Worst of all, they had Thalia.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The first guy around the corner was the heavy whom Heinrich didn’t recognize. He got an 800-year-old Byzantine brick on the temple. The soldier dropped like a stone, and the brick crumbled in Heinrich’s hand. Briefly he wondered if that counted as damaging a historic site.
Heinrich dropped, scooped up the guy’s knife, and backpedaled.
Just in time. Unibrow had shoved Thalia aside and lunged for him. They ended up a few feet apart, sizing each other up.
“It’s about time we had a rematch,” Heinrich said in English. He didn’t know the Greek word for “rematch.”
He never had enough time to study on these little trips.
“I’ve been looking forward to it,” Unibrow replied in English.
“Fistfight or knives?”
“You might win a fistfight. You’re a good boxer. But I bet you’ve never had knife training.”
“Um…”
Unibrow snaked forward, the knife creating a glittering pattern before Heinrich’s eyes.
Heinrich had no choice but to retreat, keeping his own knife up in a guard position as best he could. He’d never fought with a knife, and he knew that it was only a matter of time before he was cut. After that happened, it would be only seconds before he’d be gutted.
The first cut came a moment later. Heinrich stumbled over a loose cobblestone in the medieval alley and Unibrow dove in. Heinrich tried to block, and got a slight gash on his forearm. It wasn’t deep, but the shock of the contact made him lose his grip.
His knife clattered to the ground. Unibrow grinned and went in for the kill.
A gunshot cracked through the alley’s narrow confines.
Thalia stood at the entrance to the alley, a pistol raised above her head. She had fired into the air, not daring to try and hit Unibrow for fear of hitting Heinrich. A little behind her, the man with whom she had struggled lay curled up on the ground, clutching his groin.
“Put up your hands,” Thalia demanded.
Unibrow didn’t put up his hands. Instead he leaped for her. Thalia lowered the pistol, covering him with an unsteady aim.
Heinrich rushed up behind Unibrow and gave him a kidney punch that sent him to his knees. A hammerfist to his wrist made him drop the knife. Heinrich kicked it away.
He moved over to Thalia and was just reaching to take the gun from her when the man she had kneed in the balls struggled to his feet.
Thalia turned and shot him in the foot, sending him back down again.
“Was that necessary?” Heinrich asked, taking the gun from her.
“He grabbed my breasts.”
“Fair enough. Want to shoot him again?”
Thalia let out a great gust of air. “I think I’ve had enough of guns.”
A movement at the corner of his eye made Heinrich turn, gun leveled. Unibrow had gotten into a crouch, ready to pounce. He froze as the gun was trained on him.
“Maybe I should shoot you in the foot,” Heinrich told him.
The ex-soldier grinned and got back on his knees, putting his hands on his head, fingers interlaced. His companion, hair dusty with brick powder, groaned and turned over.
Heinrich searched him, then the man with the shot foot. He retrieved their wallets and a set of car keys but no other weapons. With Unibrow he took more care, forcing his mouth open and shoving the muzzle inside while Thalia searched him. This guy was stronger and faster and better trained; Heinrich wasn’t going to take any chances.
It was good that he searched because he found another knife on him.
By now the man whom Heinrich had hit with the brick was conscious enough to help Unibrow with their shot companion, who hopped between them. Thalia led them to the main avenue that ran downhill to the ticket booth.
They found the old geezer standing outside, staring up the main street, no doubt wondering what all the shooting was about.
“Call the police,” Thalia called to him as they came into view.
The ticket seller ran into his stall.
When they got to it, they found him talking a mile a minute into a landline. Heinrich checked his own phone. Still no signal. At least someone had phone service in this place.
Heinrich turned to Unibrow. He and his friend had set down the wounded man. Heinrich and Thalia kept several feet away from them. The man whom Henrich had struck with the brick sat down, cradling his head in his hands.
“How many others are up here?” Heinrich asked.
“Fuck off,” Unibrow shot back.
Heinrich shrugged. He hadn’t really expected an answer from someone this hard.
He glanced at the castle, wondering about the figure he had seen up there. From far in the valley below came the distant wail of a police siren.
“You’re getting a murder charge,” Heinrich told Unibrow. “Not to mention kidnapping, attempted murder, weapons charges, and who knows what else. I don’t know about here, but back in the States that would get you life with a minimum of twenty years. You can probably shave off a few years if you cooperate. Where’s your boss, the guy in the suit with the sob story about his childhood?”
“Fuck off,” Unibrow repeated.
The sirens drew closer.
“Now!”
A shout from Unibrow and the two ex-soldiers sprang into action. The one on the ground had, unseen by Heinrich and Thalia, grabbed a handful of pebbles. He tossed them at Heinrich’s face.
Blinded for half a second, Heinrich fired, blinking his eyes clear just as Unibrow struck his wrist and made the pistol clatter to the ground. Heinrich swung with his left, the arm still smarting from his knife wound. He landed a decent hook on the side of Unibrow’s head.
The soldier returned the punch, which Heinrich dodged. They ended up just outside each other’s reach. Out of the corner of his eye, Heinrich saw Thalia and the other mug dive for the gun. He also saw a streak of blood on Unibrow’s side. That wild shot had hit him, though it didn’t look like much damage had been.
That was all he had time to see. Unibrow rushed forward, leading with his left and sending a powerful right cross at Heinrich’s face.
He managed to dance out of the way, but his own counterattack was too slow to catch the Greek soldier.
They circled, bobbing, wary of each other. Heinrich heard a scrabbling and the thud of fists on flesh from the direction of the gun.
He didn’t dare look. He didn’t dare take his eyes off his opponent for an instant.
Unibrow rushed him again. Heinrich ducked a massive hook and landed a jab straight into the guy’s bullet wound.
His opponent grunted and curled up.
Finally, I’m getting a response from this guy.
Heinrich followed with a right cross that connected well enough to send Unibrow staggering back. However, when Heinrich moved in to finish him off, the former soldier blocked his punch and lashed out with a kick to the shin.
Put off balance, Heinrich was barely able to block Unibrow’s punch.
A shot rang out. Both Heinrich and his opponent flinched.
Neither looked in the direction of the shot. Seeing each other unhurt, they both dove back into their own fight.
Heinrich took a jab to the jaw that sent him reeling, but not before he had lashed out with a one-two that, while not connecting properly, slowed down Unibrow enough for Heinrich to slide away and recover.
Not that he had long. The antiquities thief was back on him again…
…and was dumb enough to fall for the same trick twice. When he saw a hook coming at him, Heinrich ducked and slammed his right into the guy’s bullet graze.
He got more force into it this time. Unibrow cried out in pain.
The killer was helpless as Heinrich threw an uppercut to the point of his jaw, sending his head snapping back. Unibrow fell flat on his back, unconscious.
Heinrich swung around, ducking, anticipating a shot.
He found Thalia holding the gun, shivering from head to foot as the other ex-soldier lay gasping in a pool of his own blood, his shirt a bloody mass.
Heinrich put an arm around Thalia, gently taking the gun. After a few minutes, the police arrived. The old caretaker emerged from hiding to greet them with a panicked monologue about bloodthirsty tourists. Heinrich and Thalia almost got cuffed before Thalia managed to explain what was going on and to convince them to call Athens police. Adonis proved that he was still on the team by getting on the line and explaining things before getting cut off by his boss, who told them the same thing with more authority. A long series of questions followed. An ambulance arrived and treated everyone’s wounds, including Heinrich’s kn
ife graze. Thalia seemed relieved that neither of the men she had shot would die. More police cars came, and some officers were sent up to the castle. They returned an hour later with the caretaker under arrest. They had found evidence of illegal digging up there. They had also found evidence that several men had been staying in one of the towers, but the men had bolted.
“We’ll track them down,” the officer in charge reassured them.
Heinrich was not reassured.
During all this time, Heinrich had been struggling with his phone signal. For a minute it connected, but it was so slowed down with updates and downloading data that he didn’t have a chance to look up anything important, like news from Jan or Biniam. Half an hour later he got another tenuous connection and enough time to check his email. A message from the halfway house informed him that they still hadn’t found Jan. Heinrich snarled and kicked a stone against the wall of the ticket booth. When the police gave him a guarded look, he forced himself to calm down.
After another hour of questioning, searches around the site, and impatient pacing, Heinrich’s phone buzzed. He whipped it out of his pocket and saw a message from Biniam.
“That hacker had accessed the Ministry of Antiquities database from the same Internet cafe in Sparti as before. He’s there right now.”
The message was dated fifteen minutes earlier. It had just gotten through.
Heinrich didn’t even think. He grabbed Thalia, rushed to their car, and got them both inside, with Heinrich behind the wheel. One of the police came after them, raising his hands for them to stop.
“Give me the keys; they’re at the Internet cafe!” Heinrich said.
Thalia, to her credit, didn’t bat an eye. She shoved the keys into his hands and locked the doors before the cop had time to open them.
Heinrich started the car and turned it around, taking care not to hit the cop, then slammed on the gas.
As they hurtled downhill, Thalia said, “Do you know how suspicious it looks to flee the scene of a shooting?”