074 Greek Odyssey (12 page)

“I haven’t made a decision yet,” Nancy said, holding up her hands.

“And I’m not rushing you,” Mick told her. He dropped a kiss on her cheek.

“Are we interrupting something?” Bess asked from behind them. Turning, Nancy saw Bess and Zoe climbing the closed stairway to the balcony.

“We brought these binoculars from the inn,” Zoe said, handing Nancy the glasses.

“We’re going to get ice cream,” Bess added. “Want us to bring you some?”

Nancy checked her watch. “George and Kevin will take over in ten minutes or so,” she said. “I think we can hold out till then.”

“Hey, look—he’s leaving the shop,” Mick whispered, nudging Nancy.

While Bess and Zoe ducked behind the balcony wall, Nancy peered over the top. Spiros was just locking up the shop. Then he climbed the stairs and entered the second-floor studio.

“I should have guessed,” Nancy whispered excitedly. “He has time to work on the passports when the shop is closed for siesta.” She and Mick watched as the old man moved about the room for a few minutes, then sat down at a worktable bathed in sunlight.

“What’s he doing?” Mick asked after a few more minutes. “It looks as if he’s sewing.”

Looking through the binoculars, Nancy was able to make out the item on the table. “He
is
sewing. He’s doing the seam of a passport!” The sight of the large darning needle sent her mind reeling back. “Remember the sewing basket I found in his file cabinet? That’s what it’s for!”

She handed the binoculars to Mick, who held them up, then whistled. “Pretty crafty.”

“So it looks as if he’s almost finished?” Bess asked.

Nancy nodded. “He must have taken the passport apart to remove the identification page—the one with the photo. Then all he has to do is duplicate a single page with a new photo and new information and sew it all back together.”

They watched as Spiros finished his task and then tucked the passports into the sewing basket. Still holding the basket, he headed for the door.

“What do you think?” Mick asked Nancy.

“We know he’s got the passports,” she whispered. “Let’s split up. We need to contact the police—and keep an eye on Spiros.”

“I’ll go for the police,” Zoe volunteered.

Peering over the ledge, they watched Spiros tuck the basket in the crook of his arm. He went down the stairs and headed down the street. “Let’s go,” Nancy said.

The cobblestone lane was fairly deserted, so the teens followed Spiros at a distance. Most locals and tourists had retired indoors for a siesta. A few blocks down, Zoe turned off down a side street, which led to the police station.

As Nancy, Mick, and Bess followed Spiros through the twisting maze of streets, they passed a handful of Japanese tourists and a young boy with a goat. After a few minutes they found themselves at the foot of the staircase leading up to the windmills.

“This is it,” Nancy said as she started up the stairs. “If he’s got those passports, we have to get them now—before he sells them.” She knew Spiros would never hand over the forged passports. She would have to catch him off guard.

Thinking of a plan, she reached into the back pocket of her denim skirt and pulled out her own passport, which she had carried with her ever since the day the safe was broken into. She had had no idea, then, just how handy her own passport would be!

At the top of the stairs, Nancy saw that Spiros was the only person on the hot, dry summit of the hill. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he spotted them.

Forcing a smile, Nancy held out her passport as she approached him. “We found this on the steps. I think it fell out of your basket.”

Spiros’s gaze fell on the passport in her hand. With its blue cover and gold seal, it could have been one of the forged passports. Spiros pulled his pipe out of his mouth, then slowly reached forward until his hand closed around Nancy’s passport.

Before Spiros knew what had hit him, Nancy tugged the basket out of his grasp, and Mick grabbed his arms, to restrain him.

“We’ll be needing this, too,” Bess said, snatching Nancy’s passport from Spiros’s hand.

Nancy rummaged through the basket and pulled out the three passports, their covers bearing the U.S. seal. Nancy opened the first one and saw the face of the bearded terrorist staring at her. Inside the second one she saw the photo of the woman, Shara. “This must be Bess’s passport,” she said. Flipping through the pages, she saw the stamps they had gotten earlier that summer in Switzerland and Italy.

“Leave me alone!” Spiros shouted, struggling to get away from Mick. “You are crazy to be involved in this!”

“This is all the evidence we need!” Nancy announced, waving the passports as Mick wrestled Spiros down and pinned him to the ground.

“Do you want me to run down to the police station?” Bess offered. “Zoe has no way of knowing that we wound up here.”

“Good idea. And take these.” Nancy handed Bess the three forged passports.

“I’ll be back in a flash—with the police,” Bess promised. Then she ran down the steps of Kato Myli Hill.

Spiros had given up struggling with Mick, but he let forth with a flood of angry Greek phrases.

Nancy slipped off her blue headband and gave it to Mick. “Use this on his arms.” A moment later Spiros’s wrists were bound, and he was sitting on the stone pedestal of one of the windmills, with Nancy and Mick standing on either side of him.

For several minutes no one spoke. Then Spiros said urgently, “Please. We must leave here—right away. We are all in danger.”

“The police will be here any minute,” Nancy said. She caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. “This must be them now.”

Turning her head to peer around the side of the windmill, she heard a sudden cold click, then felt a small solid object against her temple.

Nancy drew in a sharp breath. She had heard that sound before. It was the sound of a cocked pistol—and it was pressed against the side of her head.

Her heart began to hammer in her chest, and she thought, One move and I’m dead.

Chapter Fifteen

“
D
ON’T MOVE
,” said a man with a deep, accented voice, as if he were reading her mind. Nancy didn’t dare turn to look at him.

In the next instant she heard the metallic sound of another gun being cocked, and her heart sank. Mick was in danger, too!

Loud male voices growled in a language Nancy didn’t understand. When she dared to glance slightly toward her right, she saw that Spiros was arguing with one of the terrorists, the scar-faced man. From studying the photos, Nancy remembered that his name was Mashti.

The other two, Shara and Rashid, stood nearby. The pistol at Nancy’s head was held by Rashid, while Shara had her gun trained on Mick.

Spiros waved off Mashti defiantly, then pointed at Nancy. “Ask her,” he spat, switching to English. “She can tell you where your passports went.”

Nancy felt her mouth go dry as the muscular Mashti lunged toward her and yanked her arm.

“Hand over the passports—now!” he demanded.

“I don’t have them,” Nancy said. She wasn’t about to let them know that Bess was on her way to the police station with them at that very moment.

“Ah, but she can get them,” Spiros objected.

Infuriated, Mashti kicked up a puff of dust, then pressed his face close to Nancy’s. The hair on her neck stood on end as his hot breath brushed her skin. “You are going to get those passports for me—if you want to live.”

Nancy saw a sudden movement behind him, and she realized that someone was coming. The police—at last, she thought.

A moment later she gasped in horror as she recognized George.

“There you are!” George cried. “Bess told us you were up here guarding—”

She stopped short, taking in the situation. “Whoa!” Kevin said, stopping next to her.

Mashti pulled out a revolver, whirled, dropped to a crouch, and trained the gun on Kevin and George. “Stop!” he shouted.

George and Kevin froze, their faces reflecting total shock. Quickly Mashti corralled them against the wall of the windmill so that they stood beside Nancy and Mick. One by one the terrorists patted down Nancy and her friends. Nancy suspected they were searching for weapons or the forged passports. They found nothing.

After a heated argument with Spiros, Mashti pulled Nancy away from the wall of the windmill.

“You will get the passports back,” he ordered, shaking his fist in her face. “Bring the passports to the cave on Dragonisi—you know the one. You have three hours. Be there by six o’clock, or your friends will die.” Then he backed away.

For a moment Nancy couldn’t believe her eyes. The terrorists were letting her and Mick go free!

Then her heart sank as she saw them nudge George and Kevin with their guns, pushing them toward the stairs. They were going to use George and Kevin as hostages!

This can’t be happening! Nancy thought. Tears filled her eyes as George flashed her a look of desperation, then turned away. Nancy watched, horrified, as the three terrorists descended the stairs, hurrying George and Kevin along at gunpoint.

“He says that he has forged passports many times in the past, but never before for anyone he thought was dangerous,” Zoe murmured. “With him, forging is an art, like the miniature statues he makes.” In a small, hot room of the police station, Zoe was translating Spiros’s statement.

“The terrorists had heard of his reputation, and they threatened to kill him if he did not do as they asked,” Zoe went on. She seemed disappointed in her family’s friend, and Nancy didn’t blame her. She guessed that it
was
an art to recreate something as intricate as a passport, but that didn’t justify breaking the law.

Zoe and Officer Rossolatos had helped move things along quickly. Spiros was under arrest. Two men had been sent out to search Mykonos for the terrorists and their hostages—just in case they hadn’t left the island yet. And the police chief had put in a call to Interpol, the international police network. The police would take action once Interpol arrived.

Officer Rossolatos allowed Nancy and the others to listen in while Spiros confessed to opening the hotel safe, stealing the passports, and altering them.

“This is all your fault!” Spiros scowled at Nancy. “If you had not stuck your nose in this business, your friends would be safe. I knew you were going to be a threat when Dimitri told me you had been in my studio. That is why I tried to frighten you while you were swimming.”

“
You
were the man with the spear gun!” Nancy said as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

“Why didn’t you back off when you still had the chance?” Spiros asked her. “I warned you!”

“Nancy isn’t scared off by threats,” Bess said, coming to Nancy’s defense. Her eyes were red from crying.

But maybe this time I should have been, Nancy thought. She sank back in her chair, a sick feeling in her stomach. Spiros was right. If she had backed off, her friends’ lives wouldn’t be in jeopardy at this moment. What if the terrorists made good on their threat? Solving one case just wasn’t worth two precious lives.

Once Spiros’s statement was complete, Nancy, Bess, Zoe, and Mick were dismissed. “Thank you for your cooperation,” the police chief said in a matter-of-fact way. Nancy had the feeling that he didn’t understand how serious the situation was.

“What’s going to happen to my friends?” she asked him anxiously. It was almost four o’clock. Minutes were ticking by, and George and Kevin were still in the hands of the terrorists.

Officer Rossolatos intervened, speaking to his supervisor in Greek. Then Rossolatos turned to Nancy and said, “We will send an Interpol agent who matches your description to the cave. She will trade the forged passports for your friends. Of course, after the trade, a team of officers will surround the terrorists. The criminals will surrender—if they want to live.”

“And what if they refuse to release George and Kevin?” Nancy asked, blinking as her eyes filled with tears.

“Please,” said the officer. “You must trust us to handle it.”

That’s no answer! Nancy wanted to shriek. A wave of guilt washed over her as she thought about the terrible situation she had gotten her friends into. She wished the police would use her instead of a decoy, but she knew they would never agree to it.

Turning to Bess, she asked, “Do you still have my hat?” Nancy had given her orange cap to Bess before she and Mick rode off after the terrorists on Naxos.

“Sure,” Bess said. She was still carrying the tote bag she’d had on Naxos. She reached into it and pulled out Nancy’s fluorescent orange cap.

Nancy handed the hat to Officer Rossolatos. “I had this on when I first ran into the terrorists. The decoy might want to wear it.”

“Thank you,” he said. “We will contact you as soon as your friends are in our custody.”

“And there’s a six o’clock deadline!” Nancy stressed.

Rossolatos smiled reassuringly. “We will be there long before the deadline. Do not worry.”

How could she help but worry?

Nancy was surprised to find Theo coming out of an office when she, Zoe, and Mick walked into the hall. Immediately there was an exchange in Greek between Theo and Zoe. “Theo came in to make a report,” Zoe explained. “His boat was stolen from Mykonos’s harbor. A few of the fishermen saw two men boarding the
Sea Star
. From their description, it sounds as if the two male terrorists stole the
Sea Star
. One of the fishermen remembers seeing a red-haired woman board a smaller boat.”

“Was George with them?” Bess asked, but Theo didn’t know.

“Why did they take your boat,” Mick wondered, “when they had the other one?”

“Maybe they need a faster, larger boat than the one they’ve been using,” Nancy suggested.

She followed her friends outside into the late afternoon sunshine. The bright sky seemed to contrast sharply with the darkness of her mood.

“Maybe we should go back to the hotel and wait,” Zoe suggested bleakly.

“She’s right,” Bess said, wiping tears from her eyes. She couldn’t stop crying. “There’s really nothing else we can do.”