"When we were discussing things earlier today, I told you I thought Alexias Pavlo was the traitor," Lomax said. "You pointed out that I still had to explain how the Germans got on to him in the first place. I can do better than that. I can show how they got on to you."
"I'm afraid you're not making sense," Van Horn said, but all colour had left his face and deep lines were scoured across his forehead.
"When I first visited this house seventeen years ago, Joe Boyd borrowed a volume of your war poems called The Survivor," Lomax told him. "It was bound in green leather and autographed in gold, one of a complete edition of your works."
He went to the bookshelves and returned with a slim green volume which he dropped on the coffee table. "The book in question. I noticed it earlier when Katina brought me up from the hotel to meet you again. It wasn't until tonight that I realised it had no business being there."
"I don't understand," Katina said.
"I think Van Horn does. You see Joe Boyd forgot to return the book. He was carrying it in one of his tunic pockets when he went into action. I only remembered that tonight after all these years. The Germans must have found it when they searched his body. No wonder I thought Steiner was laughing at me when I told him we hadn't been in contact with anyone on the island."
Van Horn picked up the book and examined it. After a while, he sighed. "It would have been a pity to spoil the set. It was presented to me by my American publishers just before the war."
He crossed to the bookshelves, replaced the volume then took a decanter from the cupboard and poured himself a drink. When he spoke, his voice sounded curiously remote. It was almost as if he were discussing something that had happened to someone else.
"You're right, of course. They found the book and Steiner came straight to me. I tried to beat about the bush, but it didn't do any good."
Katina moved forward, dragging her right foot slightly. "Why did you teU them?"
He tried to turn away, but she caught his arm and pulled him round to face her. "Why, Oliver?"
He shrugged. "Because I was afraid. He threatened to send me to Gestapo headquarters in Athens."
"Was that all?"
Van Horn shook his head. "No, he swore he'd destroy every piece hi my collection. He smashed the amphora just to show me he meant business."
She turned away, loathing on her face, and Lomax said, "Why did Steiner keep you in the town gaol Instead of sending you to Fonchi with the others?"
"Your apparent death on the way to Crete made a convenient scapegoat," Van Horn told him. "Steiner was going to release me after six months on the grounds of my health."
"So that you could inform on more of your friends?" Katina asked.
He ignored her and went on, "Unfortunately, Steiner was killed and his replacement knew nothing of the arrangement. He had me transferred to Fonchi soon after taking over command."
"So you condemned your friends to a hell on earth because you were afraid," Katina said. "Because of your stupid collection."
"I suffered as much as anyone," he said. "You've seen what they did to me, Lomax. When you told me you suspected Alexias, that you intended to have a showdown with him, I panicked. I knew you were bound to turn something up if you dug around for long enough."
"So you got in touch with Dimitri?"
Van Horn nodded. "He said he'd take care of things, but insisted on seeing me. I went in the launch as you guessed. When I arrived, he was drunk. Apparently he'd put two-and-two together."
"And you realised he intended to blackmail you?"
"There was a gutting knife on the table. I thought that if I used that, it would make Kytros think the murderer was a fisherman."
"Rather an unusual way to stab a man."
Van Horn shrugged. "A trick I learned in the trenches. One never really forgets how to do that sort of thing. You should know that better than most people."
Lomax ignored the thrust. "And the business hi the alley at the back of the prison? I was right about that?"
Van Horn nodded. "When Katina came out to the villa and asked me to help you get out, I couldn't very well refuse. The automatic I gave her had a damaged firing pin, by the way. After she'd left hi the jeep, I followed her into town on an old bicycle we've had in the stables for years."
Lomax was beginning to feel tired and the pain in his head was worse. "So you killed?" he said. "And made me kill? And for what, Van Horn? To what end?"
"I don't know," Van Horn said. "I really don't. Is there ever an end to anything?"
He put his right hand into his pocket and produced a revolver. Katina took a quick step backwards and Lomax said, "More killing, Van Horn? But you won't be able to stop with me. What about Katina? Will you shoot her also?"
"I don't think so," a familiar voice said, and Kytros stepped in through the french window, Alexias Pavlo at his shoulder.
Van Horn's eyes flickered towards them and Lomax shoved Katina to one side and jumped. He was too late by a mile. Van Horn fired at point-blank range and the heavy bullet caught Lomax in the right shoulder, smashing him back against the piano.
As Katina screamed, his arm swung against the lamp, knocking it sideways, plunging the room into darkness as he slid to the floor.
Dust and Ashes
For a few moments there was only the darkness and its confusion and Ixmax was conscious of Katina beside him. When the main lights were turned on, there was no sign of Van Horn or Alexias. Kytros moved from the switch to the door which led to the hall, but it refused to open.
He turned and said calmly, "He won't get far. I took the precaution of locking the main gates when we arrived and Stavrou is guarding the cliff path."
Lomax reached for the edge of the piano to pull himself tip and Katina moved to help him. The wound in his shoulder was bleeding steadily and she quickly made a thick pad of an embroidered table-runner and pushed it inside his sweater. Kytros came forward. "Is it bad?"
Lomax shook his head. "I'll survive. How long were you on the terrace?"
"Long enough-not that it made any difference." Kytros smiled slightly. "I knew before I got here. I told you I was waiting for Doctor Spanos to finish his autopsy. He came up with two most interesting points."
"I don't understand," Lomax said.
"In the first place, Dimitri Paros had been dead for longer than we supposed. The fact that his body was so close to the fire had delayed rigor mortis."
"And the second point?"
"The dead man had smashed his wrist-watch when falling. It had stopped at exactly nine o'clock." Kytros sighed. "You must forgive a simple island policeman for failing to notice the fact sooner."
"And at nine o'clock I was at sea with the Samos brothers."
"And Alexias was playing chess with Father John."
"But what put you on to Van Horn?"
"In the first place, simple logic," Kytros said. "Riki Samos admitted that Dimitri had been tipped off that you were going to the farm, but he didn't know by whom. From what you had told me earlier, it seemed that only one person could be responsible. I then discovered that Dimitri had left The Little Ship after receiving a telephone call and there are very few on the island."
"And the operator remembered who'd called him?"
Kytros nodded. "I stopped to pick up Alexias and heard you were on the loose. Then Yanni turned up at the police station considerably distressed because he thought you were going to be torn to pieces on the mountain."
"And you didn't?" Lomax said.
Kytros permitted himself a slight smile. "I considered it unlikely in view of your past history in these islands."
"Something else to thank Yanni for," Katina said.
Kytros nodded. "A good boy. A pity there is no one to educate him."
"I think that could be arranged," Lomax said.
A shot echoed flatly through the rain outside and Alexias moved in from the terrace. "He's in the garden," he said harshly.
Kytros unbuckled his holster and took out his automatic. "I think it would be better if you remained here."
He crossed to the window and Lomax moved after him. Outside, the rain lanced down through the light that spilled across the terrace to the bushes and beyond was darkness.
There was another revolver shot followed by the dry, ominous rattle of a machine pistol. "Stavrou!" Kytros said, and he ran across the terrace and plunged into the garden.
Faintly through the rain came the sound of many voices and the barking of dogs and Katina touched Lomax's arm and pointed. In the darkness on the other side of the road, men moved down the slope towards the villa, their lanterns like eyes in the night.
In the garden aU was silent and obeying a sudden impulse Lomax ran across the terrace clutching his shoulder and plunged into the undergrowth. He crouched beside a bush, the rain falling on him, and Katina arrived a moment later. "This is madness," she protested.
He moved forward cautiously between the dripping olive trees without replying, and above them on the mountainside the noise grew louder and more ominous.
Kytros stepped from behind a tree to join them. Before he could speak there was a movement in the bushes on the other side of the garden and the machine pistol rattled again. Stavrou shouted something unintelligible and Van Horn ran headlong out of the undergrowth, left arm raised to protect his face.
He lurched against a tree and stood there staring at them, his breath a white mist in the damp air. In the vellow lamplight, his skin had turned to parchment and he looked old and tired and defeated.
He turned and staggered along the drive towards the main gate. As he reached it, the mob poured down from the mountain and flooded across the road.
Lomax and Katina paused and Alexias came up behind them and there was a strange silence. It was as if, somehow, the people outside the gate realised that something extraordinary was taking place.
Stavrou emerged from the trees and waited, the barrel of his machine pistol pointed towards the gate. Kytros nodded to him and moved forward on his own. When he paused, legs slightly apart, he was holding the automatic against his right thigh.
"Throw down your gun, Mr. Van Horn," he said. "Let-no one else suffer in this business."
Van Horn started to raise the revolver, almost in slow motion, his finger tightening on the trigger. In the same moment Kytros flung his arm forward and fired. The heavy slu'g pushed Van Horn back against the gate and the crowd scattered hurriedly.
He reached backwards, grasping one of the iron bars with his left hand to hold himself upright. Very deliberately, he raised the gun again, and Kytros shot him twice in the body.
There was a terrible groan from the crowd and Van Horn slithered to the ground, hands folded across his stomach as the life spilled out of him.
He looked up as Lomax went forward and tried to speak. A moment later, he started to choke and blood gushed from his mouth in a bright stream..
Beyond the gate the crowd were quiet hi the rain, not yet understanding what had taken place, waiting for someone to explain. Alexias moved beside Lomax looking old and tired as if all at once life had become too much for him. He tried to find words, but none would come and he went towards the gate.
Kytros unlocked it and Alexias passed outside and started to speak quietly to the crowd and the sergeant dropped to one knee beside Van Horn and examined the body.
After a moment, he looked up and said calmly, "There is no blame here for you, Mr. Lomax. This man wished to die. He made me kill him."
Lomax stood there clutching his arm, feeling the blood ooze between his fingers, and the lamp above the gate seemed to grow to enormous proportions. He turned and went along the drive to the villa.
The front door stood open to the night and he passed through the hall and the narrow, whitewashed passage and came into the great glass room containing Van Horn's ceramics.
The showcases seemed to be suspended in the night, circling the great red and black amphora that floated, disembodied, in the darkness.
He stood there, staring at It, sweat on his face, and a spasm of blind, unreasoning rage surged up inside him. He lurched forward and pushed it sideways from the plinth with his good arm, sending it smashing in a thousand pieces across the floor. And then, for some unac-countable reason, he failed to catch his breath and night moved in on him as great dry sobs tore at his throat.
He went out on the balcony, and somehow Katina was beside him, and he said brokenly, "Dust and ashes, Katina. Dust and ashes."
"I know, Hugh," she said simply.
He stood at the rail and looked out on beauty. The rain had stopped and the freshness of wet earth hung on the damp air and he was alive.
