The Silver Stain (32 page)

Then the punches started raining down on his head. He ducked as low as he could and kept driving forward. He had no idea how long the uneven contest lasted, but suddenly he found himself round the corner, the harbour and its busy cafés only a few yards away. Cara was on one knee, her chest heaving and her hair loose.

Of Niki and their attackers, after he had cleared the blood from his eyes, there was no sign at all.

Hildegard Kersten looked through the spyhole and saw her grandson outside the apartment. She undid the chain and opened the door.

‘Hallo, Grandma,’ the young man said, embracing her. ‘I’m so sorry about Grandpa.’

Hildegard held him close, unsure how real the display of emotion was. Oskar had never been demonstrative, even as a small boy.

‘Come in, child,’ she said, pushing him gently away and closing the door. ‘Did Alex Mavros give you the message to come?’

‘Mavros?’ Mesner recoiled as if he’d been jabbed with a cattle prod. ‘Why would I have seen him?’

‘He’s looking into your grandfather’s death. It wasn’t suicide, you know.’

Oskar stared at her. ‘But the police . . .’

‘The police are controlled by other interests. You’re not in Germany now.’

‘What other interests?’ he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief.

‘Never mind. You won’t be here for long. It doesn’t concern you.’ Hildegard busied herself with preparing coffee.

Her grandson followed her into the kitchen. ‘Who said I wouldn’t be staying? With Grandpa gone, I thought I could look after you.’

Hildegard smiled. ‘I can look after myself. It’s time you went back to work. I know about the people you spend your time with. Fortunately for you, I didn’t tell your grandfather. He had no time for Nazis and even less for their modern followers.’

‘The war made Grandpa crazy,’ Oskar said, in a low voice.

‘Wrong!’ Hildegard said shrilly, trying to convince herself as much as Oskar. ‘The war made him a true human being, one who understood the sufferings and plight of others. It is you who betrayed his values.’ She bustled through to the living room with a full tray.

Oskar sat opposite her, his head hanging. ‘I can’t find work in Germany, Grandma. I’m not cut out for the way people work today.’

‘You’re not cut out to work at all, you mean,’ she replied tartly. ‘Well, I hope you aren’t expecting anything from your grandfather’s will.’

He lifted his head, his face white. ‘What do you mean?’

‘There’s nothing apart from the coins – and they are going to museums.’

Hildegard took out the paper she’d found in her husband’s pocket. ‘Explain this to me, Oskar. “Waggoner – Oskar to dispose of with contacts. Coins value 100K”. And don’t tell me Rudi didn’t write it – I know his hand like my own.’

‘I . . . will I still get the one hundred thousand euros’ worth of coins?’

‘I might consider it,’ she replied. ‘If you tell me what happened.’

Oskar suddenly looked less pale. ‘It was after I stole the thirty coins. He called me and told me he’d give me more, but I had to arrange for the Englishman to . . . to have an accident.’ He smiled weakly. ‘A fatal one.’

Hildegard put her hand to her heart. It was as she had feared. Rudi had crossed the line from victim to killer as regards their long-term tormentor. She felt sick, but managed to conceal that from her grandson.

‘And how was that to be achieved?’ she asked.

‘Well, I have some pretty dangerous friends. The plan was to burst into his place in Chania and rip it up, so it looked like a burglary that had gone wrong. But we got distracted.’

‘And were you the one who was going to kill the Englishman?’

‘I . . .’ He looked away. ‘No. One of my friends from Rostock has finished off more than one ni— I mean immigrant. He likes killing.’

The widow was struggling to keep her breathing regular. ‘I see. Have you ever met this man Waggoner?’

‘No. Grandpa showed me a picture of him.’

‘Ah.’ She paused. ‘How about a man called Roufos?’

Oskar kept his eyes her. ‘No. I’ve heard of him. Your friend Mavros knows him.’

‘Indeed? Did your grandfather ever say anything to you about Alex Mavros and Kornaria?’

Oskar looked at her through narrowed eyes. ‘Only that he thought it was a pity Mavros came back from the village in one piece. He said there were people up there who would stop his interfering permanently.’

Hildegard stood up and walked slowly over to the desk. The object she wanted was in the top drawer now. She picked it up and moved back to her grandson, who was facing away from her.

‘Get up!’ she said, firmly.

Oskar Mesner turned his head and was confronted by the gleaming blade of the Wehrmacht bayonet.

‘Out, now!’ his grandmother screamed. ‘I never want to see you again!’

Oskar stood up and edged away from her, then ran for the door, slamming it behind him.

Hildegard Kersten sank to her knees, the bayonet falling from her hand. Everything she had believed about Rudi – his determination to make reparations, his generosity to the Cretans, his essential humanity – had been completely destroyed. He had conspired with far-right thugs to kill David Waggoner; he had planned to sell half his coins to Roufos – the fact that the proceeds were apparently destined for her made her feel even worse; and he had plotted the death of the very man who was investigating his murder, using violent men from the drugs village he had always purported to despise.

To her horror, she found she couldn’t weep. It had dawned on her that Rudi had deserved to be murdered. She picked up the long blade again and held it to her chest, hoping that, wherever she went, he would not be there.

Mavros called Yannis and told him what had happened. The Cretan promised to round up as many ‘helpers’ as he could find to track down the skinheads.

‘Are you all right?’ Mavros asked Cara.

She nodded. ‘They hurt worse than I do. What about you? That eye doesn’t look too good.’ She found a tissue in her pocket and held it above his right eye. ‘Needs stitches.’

‘Forget it,’ he said, moving as quickly as he could to Roufos’s hotel.

The statuesque receptionist stared at him as they went to the lift. It took only a few seconds in his suite to establish that Roufos had left – all his clothes and personal items were gone.

‘He checked out, I presume,’ Mavros said, on their way out.

‘Yes,’ replied the bewildered Minoan. ‘He took a taxi to the ferry port.’

‘Shall we go after him?’ Cara asked.

‘Forget it,’ he replied. ‘He’ll be onboard in Suda by now.’

‘What if he’s got Niki with him?’

Mavros thought about that, then was interrupted by his phone.

‘We’ve got some of them,’ Yannis said. ‘But not your friend.’

‘Can you find out where she’s been taken?’

‘Already done that. Kornaria, I’m afraid. They were hired by someone from the village. I don’t think they know his name.’

‘Shit!’ Mavros said, glancing at Cara. For all her poise, she didn’t look like a movie star right now. ‘All right, meet me at the clinic.’ He led her to the Jeep by a roundabout route, in case there were any more headbangers lying in wait. ‘You know,’ he said, as they got into the vehicle, Cara on the driver’s side, ‘I’ve got a family place round the corner from here. You could hole up there.’

‘What, you think I don’t want to be in at the end of this?’ she countered.

‘Those fuckers have got Maria, remember?’

Who was probably also in Kornaria, Mavros thought – the very place he couldn’t go if he wanted to stay alive.

He directed the actress to the clinic, asking her what she thought Luke Jannet would do if they released him.

‘Go back to the set,’ she said bitterly. ‘He’s brazen enough to deny anything we say.’

‘But how can he expect you to finish the movie after the way he treated you in Roufos’s suite?’

She laughed. ‘He’s right about there being plenty of young actresses who would do anything – and I mean anything – to take over from me. Rosie being the producer makes that even easier.’

‘What about the cost?’

She glanced at him. ‘You get the idea they’re short of money? Besides, there’s insurance if performers have breakdowns, which is no doubt what they’ll say about me. Bye bye career.’

‘Screw that. I’m not letting a bunch of dope-dealers trample over everything that’s decent on this island. Plus, your career’s worth a lot.’

‘Why, thank you!’ Cara said, her teeth shining in the glow from the street lamps. ‘Don’t worry, I can look after myself.’

‘I noticed.’

She pulled up outside the clinic. They met Yannis and the Pig in the foyer, and then Mikis’s parents.

‘He’s awake!’ Eleni said, with a broad smile. ‘They don’t think he’s going to need an operation after all.’

‘That’s wonderful,’ Mavros said, shaking their hands.

‘We heard about your Niki,’ Haris said. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get her back.’

Mavros wasn’t clear about how that would be achieved but, before he could ask, Cara steered him away to a treatment room. Doctor Stavrakakis was in the corridor.

‘I don’t believe it,’ he said. ‘What is it with you, Mr Mavro? Maybe I should check you for head injuries, and I don’t just mean recent ones.’

‘No time, Doc,’ Mavros said. ‘This is a matter of life or death.’

‘All right, my friend. Get yourself cleaned up.’

A nurse duly did that, telling him to close his eye as she sprayed anaesthetic on his lower forehead. He felt all four stitches going in, but he didn’t shed tears in front of Cara – for some reason that was important to him.

‘Any idea where Rosie might be?’ he asked the actress, as the dressing on his neck was changed.

She looked at her watch. ‘Nearly dinner time. She could well be in the hotel. Or on her way to a restaurant in town’

Mavros took out his phone and asked Renzo Capaldi. The security chief called back shortly and said that Ms Yellenberg had been seen leaving with an unknown man half an hour earlier. They hadn’t used a Tsifakis vehicle. He told Cara.

‘You think she’s gone to Kornaria?’

‘I’d say it’s pretty likely,’ he replied. ‘Thanks,’ he said to the nurse, taking the painkillers she handed him. ‘I’m going to get addicted to these soon.’

‘If you live long enough,’ Cara said.

‘Very funny,’ he said, suddenly realizing the magnitude of what he was up against. Niki had been foolish to come to Crete, but he loved her and he wasn’t going to let her be abused or worse in the mountain village.

The Tsifakises were still in the reception area, in a huddle with Yannis and the Pig.

Eleni peered at his eye. ‘That looks painful.’

He held up painkillers, two of which he had dry-swallowed.

‘Where’s Luke Jannet?’ he asked.

‘They’re putting a cast on his forearm,’ Haris said. ‘Christos is keeping watch.’

‘Any thoughts about what we do next?’ Mavros asked the Cretan. ‘Preferably ones that don’t involve my or anyone else’s death or serious injury.’

Mikis’s father nodded solemnly. ‘We’ve been talking about that and we think we have a solution.’

‘All right,’ Mavros said, heading for a line of chairs. ‘I may be half blind, but I’m all ears.’

TWENTY-THREE

M
avros agreed with Haris Tsifakis that the main convoy of vehicles would aim to reach Kornaria at four a.m., when most people would still be asleep. Scout groups led by Yannis, Christos, and the Pig set off earlier, using little known tracks that would enable them to approach the village from the eastern side. The men would have to carry heavy loads over rough ground at the end, but when he saw the crowd in the Tsifakis depot, Mavros had no doubt they were up to the job. Luke Jannet had been locked in a windowless storeroom with a man on the door.

‘What about the sentries on the main road?’ he asked.

‘Don’t worry about them,’ Haris said, with a broad smile. ‘Need to know basis.’

Mavros didn’t argue the point. The only chance he had of getting Niki back was in the hands of the Cretan. Besides, he had other things on his mind. Hildegard Kersten had called him half an hour before.

‘Alex,’ she said, her voice wavering, ‘I want you to give up the case.’

‘What?’ He was instantly guilty about not having devoted more time to Rudolf Kersten’s murder. ‘I’ve been delayed, but don’t worry, I’m getting to the bottom of it.’

‘No,’ the widow said, her voice now firm. ‘I forbid you to investigate any further. And Alex, you must promise me one more thing. Whatever you do, don’t go to Kornaria. There’s . . . there’s nothing for you in that accursed place but death. Do you hear me? Don’t go anywhere near it.’

‘What’s happened, Hildegard? You don’t sound well.’

‘Well?’ she said, with a tremulous laugh. ‘Soon I will be burying my husband, the hero who helped rebuild this part of Crete. Soon . . . oh, never mind. Go to the good, Alex.’

Mavros had been puzzled by the call. Hildegard didn’t sound like the calm and controlled woman she had been even in recent days. What had the widow found out to change her mind so radically about her husband’s death? And why was she so adamant about Kornaria? As far as he knew, the couple’s only connection with the village was that their tormentor, David Waggoner, lived there.

Not long afterwards, he received a call from Niki’s mobile. Heart thundering, he answered it, speaking her name.

‘Your Niki is safe, Mavro,’ came a voice he recognized – it was that of Dhrakakis, the mayor. ‘For the time being. I propose a trade. Luke Jannet for her. But you, and only you, must come with him.’

‘How do I know you’ll keep the bargain?’ he asked hoarsely.

Dhrakakis laughed. ‘You have to trust me. We Cretans have a deep-rooted sense of honour.’ His tone hardened. ‘Be here by midday or you’ll hear the woman die on your phone.’ The connection was cut.

‘What is it, Alex?’ Cara asked, taking in his expression.

He told her what had been proposed.

‘You can’t do that!’ she exclaimed. ‘They’ll kill you and Niki as soon as you give them that shithead Luke.’

‘It’s possible,’ Mavros said, going to Haris and speaking to him in a low voice. Shortly afterwards, the Cretan slapped him on the shoulder and called over one of his associates.