Where the Gods Dwell

by Celia Scott

  'What is it?' Lorna cried. 'What's happened?'

  He looked at her and she was shocked to see his face so bleached of colour. 'What is it?' she repeated, clutching at his arm. He felt as rigid as iron.

  'The little head,' he said harshly, 'the little head has disappeared.'

  CHAPTER NINE

  Lorna stared at him in disbelief. 'Disappeared! I… I don't understand.'

  'It is another theft, Lorna,' the Professor said. With a shaking hand he removed his glasses and wiped his forehead. 'The lock had been broken on the door of the shed.'

  'Was anything else taken?' Lorna asked.

  The plump Greek shook his head. 'No. Only the terracotta… in any case the rest of the finds were fragments only, worth little compared to the head.' He replaced his glasses and turned to Jason. 'I blame myself entirely,' he said brokenly, 'I should have sent it immediately to Iraklion. But I thought it would be safe since it is the weekend and the site is deserted. I shall never forgive myself. Never.' The poor man seemed on the brink of tears.

  Jason put a comforting arm across his shoulders and murmured something in his own tongue, but when the older man still shook his head despondently he became businesslike and took charge. 'First we must phone the police,' he said. 'Lorna, will you help the Professor into the house and pour him a glass of brandy.' Professor Spanakis started to protest, but when Jason paid not the slightest attention he subsided like a kettle coming off the boil.

  Lorna led him into the drawing room while Jason went to his office to phone. She poured a generous slug of Metaxa brandy into a snifter and handed it to her boss, who in spite of his former protests took it gratefully.

  'I'm sure the police will soon find the culprit,' she reassured him, 'try not to worry too much.'

  'Even if they do,' he said lugubriously, 'it is doubtful they will find either the head or the seal stones. Doubtless the thief has already arranged to sell them on the black market. It is dreadful, dreadful! And I blame myself for this new loss entirely. I should have put the terracotta in a safe place, not left it lying around so conveniently for the robber.'

  Since Lorna was inclined to agree with this she maintained a discreet silence, and no more was said until Jason returned.

  He had changed out of his Cretan costume and put on worn jeans and faded blue cotton shirt. 'The police will be here within the hour,' he told them. 'They wish to interview all those involved with the dig right away.' He turned to Lorna and the laughing debonair man who had teased and kissed her was gone. In his place was a man used to giving orders, and having them instantly obeyed. 'Would you ask your colleagues to come in here, please, Lorna? Try not to let anyone else know that anything is wrong. There is no need to broadcast the news of this fresh robbery. It will be common knowledge soon enough, God knows, but I would prefer it if Ariadne's wedding day was left unsullied for as long as possible.'

  He looked haunted, gaunt. While she sympathised with his distress, she couldn't help feeling that he seemed to be taking it very personally. After all, even though it was on his land, it wasn't his terracotta that had been stolen. He looked as bereft as if he had been robbed of all he owned.

  'Send them here to the drawing room please,' he ordered sharply.

  She said she would and, her weariness forgotten, she went out into the garden to round up the archaeological team. She managed to field their questions skilfully, and within half-an-hour they were all gathered in the brightly lit room. Jason had drawn the silk blinds, and already the air was electric with tension. Professor Spanakis seemed to have regained some of his usual composure, and sat apart at a small rosewood table. But Jason hovered at the far end of the room, jumpy as a thoroughbred racehorse at the starting post. His fine eyes kept glancing at the door to scan each new arrival. When Nikos came in it looked as if Jason was about to say something to his cousin, but he seemed to think better of it, and contented himself with a piercing gaze that the young man returned nonchalantly.

  Nikos had surprised her again. She had expected him to be difficult, but he had merely nodded when she asked him to show himself in the drawing room. He didn't even ask why he was being summoned. And he seemed to be stone cold sober. Maybe he's turning over a new leaf, she thought, and she wondered if that was why Jason looked at him so speculatively.

  When they had all found seats and were uneasily waiting for some explanation, Jason asked Professor Spanakis to delay his announcement for a few minutes. 'I think it only right that I ask my mother to be present,' he said. 'If you will excuse me I will fetch her.'

  There was a shuffling of feet and Harvey leaned over to Lorna. 'Am I right in guessing that our local crook has struck again?' he whispered.

  'You'll find out soon enough,' Lorna whispered back, earning a look of disapproval from the Professor.

  Jason came back with his mother. She gave a sympathetic glance towards Professor Spanakis before seating herself in a chair at the back of the room. The Professor then told the group what had occurred. As before, he spoke first in Greek, and then in English. He made no attempt to gloss over his own negligence in the affair, and Lorna's heart went out to him.

  There was a frozen silence when he had finished. 'This time I offer no "deal" to the perpetrator of the crime,' he added. 'At any minute now the authorities will arrive, and believe me I shall do all in my power to assist them to apprehend the culprit.' He looked at the assembled field-workers with severity, before re-seating himself beside the little table.

  Madam Peritakis left them, promising to arrange for coffee to be sent in. She was pale, and her usually firm voice trembled, and Lorna wondered again why the Peritakis family seemed so personally overwhelmed by this event. It must be the Cretan temperament at work again. All the same it must be dreadfully wearing, she thought, to get so emotionally caught up in things.

  They had just been served their coffee when the police arrived. Jason went to meet the inspector in the hall, and after a hurried consultation it was arranged that the interviews would be conducted in the study. Harvey was the first to be called in.

  Susan came and sat beside her friend. 'Isn't this the pits?' she said softly. 'I personally would like to kick whoever did it in his rear-end.'

  'I'll lend you my hiking boots for the job,' Lorna offered, draining her cup and replacing it on one of the trays. 'It's a lousy ending to a lovely day.'

  'Jason looks wiped out.' Susan nodded her curly head in his direction.

  'Yes he does,' Lorna agreed. A wave of tenderness swept over her at the sight of his drawn face. She would have given anything to be alone with him now. To take that tired, proud head and draw it down to her breast, and stroke his dark hair and comfort him. Darling, darling Jason, I love you so much, she thought. At that moment he glanced up at her and for a second the shadows left his eyes and the ghost of a smile touched his mouth.

  Nikos ambled over to the coffee tray and helped himself to another cup. Whatever strain the other members of the Peritakis family suffered it certainly wasn't being shared by him. He seemed positively chipper. He was full of repressed glee, like a man who had just heard a good joke and can't wait to share it. 'When the police have gone we will drink much brandy and dance until the morning. Ne?' he said.

  'I do not think we will be in the mood,' said Jason, crossing to him.

  Nikos looked at him derisively. 'Ah! You must not be depressed. One little statue! Pooh!' He made a dismissive gesture. 'The earth is full of such treasures. For that one you will find a hundred more, I promise you.'

  'I don't think that's quite the point,' Lorna said, trying to be diplomatic.

  Susan, not trying to be diplomatic at all said, 'Belt up, Nikos!' And with a shrug he returned to his chair.

  Jason followed him. 'You are not upset, Nikos?' he asked. 'You are not upset by this crime?'

  For the first time that evening Nikos's good humour seemed to fade a little. 'Upset! For what reason should I be? It has nothing to do with me,' he blustered.

  'It has to
do with all of us,' Jason said levelly. 'As a Cretan you should know that such a theft reflects on the whole village. We are all tainted by it.'

  'That kind of talk is based on superstition,' said Nikos. 'I am a modern man. I do not listen to such things.'

  'Perhaps you should listen, Nikos,' Jason said to him softly, 'it might remind you of your heritage.' He stayed looking down at his cousin who refused to return his gaze, but kept staring down into his coffee cup.

  Harvey returned from his interview and now it was Lorna's turn. Since she could account for her movements for the entire day the questioning did not take long, but afterwards her dark-room was searched from top to bottom.

  Jason came and stood by her side while this was going on. 'I am sorry kookla mou,' he said.

  'It's not your fault, darling,' she smiled up at him.

  He lightly traced the circles of fatigue under her eyes. 'You are exhausted kookla mou,' he whispered, 'the moment they are finished here you will go to bed.'

  'That doesn't seem very fair to the others,' she said. But he was firm.

  'Do not argue with me, Lorna. I do not want you to become ill on top of everything else. Please do as I say.' And she was so happy that he was taking charge and looking after her, that she agreed without another murmur.

  The two policemen asked her to unlock her box of personal photographs. The ones she planned to use for her book. She lifted out the pictures so the box could be examined, and Jason took the pile of photos from her and started to look at them. After carefully studying a group she was particularly pleased with—a series of shots of peasants' hands, gnarled and roughened with work—he looked at her with new respect.

  'Now I begin to understand why your work is so important to you, Lorna.' He shuffled through a few more of the pictures, ones showing Irene at play while her mother worked at her spinning, shepherds gossiping under the olive trees, the ever-present, numinous mountains. 'You are an artist,' he said finally. 'You have captured the true spirit of my village.'

  The policemen indicated that they had finished, and after politely bidding them both good night they left the dark-room. Lorna put her photographs back in their box, locked it, and wearily pushed her hair away from her face. She was suddenly so tired that even Jason's approval of her work failed to rouse her to any enthusiasm. When she turned to leave she stumbled. Jason was instantly at her side, his strong arms around her, half lifting her out into the night.

  Standing under the purple blossoms of the Chaste Tree he held her close and she sighed and relaxed against him. The crisp hair on his chest brushed her cheek. As she snuggled closer she could smell the warm, male scent of him, and a faint tremor of desire stirred in her.

  He leaned his chin on the top of her silky head. 'I wish that I could carry you to my bed and lull you to sleep in my arms agapi mou,' he murmured, and she gave a contented little grunt and burrowed closer.

  He chuckled and lightly kissed her hair before pushing her gently away from him. 'Come! I will take you to your room. You are nearly asleep standing up.'

  At her door he kissed her swiftly. Once on the mouth, and on each eye-lid. 'Go straight to sleep and dream of me,' he ordered before leaving her.

  That reminded her of the sugared almond in the pocket of her dress. She put it under her pillow, but she didn't dream at all. Or if she did she was too tired to remember.

  The following day was spent quietly. There were still visitors, people from other villages who came to drink a glass of wine and toast the departed bridal pair. But apart from these occasional cheering interruptions there was a feeling of let-down, a reaction both to the excitement of the previous day, and to the discovery of the missing terracotta.

  Lorna hardly saw Jason. He spent long hours closeted in his study with either Professor Spanakis or the chief of police, and when he did emerge he was so abstracted he really might not have been with her at all. She began to feel rather neglected and shut out. Both he and his mother were still sunk in gloom over the whole business, and Lorna's sympathy began to wear a bit thin. No one would deny that it was a dreadful thing for an historical site to be plundered, but one must have a sense of proportion. As far as Lorna was concerned Madam Peritakis and Jason were carrying things a little too far. She tried dispensing some astringent Canadian common sense, and even attempted to crack a joke or two, but these efforts met with such stony looks from both mother and son that she gave up in disgust.

  After lunch, when Jason had joined them to bid farewell to a departing guest, he told her that he had invited Susan and Harvey to spend the afternoon and evening at the villa. 'It will be company for you, Lorna,' he said, 'while I deal with this other matter.'

  'Do you mean to tell me you're going to spend the rest of the day with Professor Spanakis at your private wake?' she asked abruptly.

  'Believe me I would prefer to spend the time with you, Lorna, but under the circumstances it is not possible.' He looked at her sternly, as a loving father looks at a recalcitrant child, and this succeeded in irritating her further.

  'What circumstances?' she demanded.

  'I should not have to explain that since this crime has been committed on Peritakis land we are directly involved… and there is more…' He hesitated, as if deciding whether or not to tell her something important.

  'I still can't see why you have to make it such a… such a tragedy,' she protested.

  'You seem to forget that to a Cretan, theft is the worst of all crimes,' he said in a flint-hard voice. 'The thief not only brings dishonour on himself, but on his family and the community as well. Please try to understand this. It may help to curb your vexation.'

  'I'm not vexed,' she replied, sounding very vexed indeed, 'it's just that I don't see that… that carrying on like this solves anything. It seems self-indulgent if you want my opinion.'

  'I do not!' he said, his lips thin with anger.

  'Fine! Go back to your wake then. I'll go for a swim before the others come.' She left him hurriedly, thinking, There we go again! More cultural barriers. And when she changed into her black bikini she had to bite her lip to stop the angry tears spilling from her eyes.

  She spent the afternoon lazing round the pool with Susan and Harvey. Outwardly she appeared quite cheerful. Inside she was tied in knots. She realised that she was being unfair, but she seemed incapable of controlling her mounting resentment, which she knew stemmed from insecurity. But knowing the source didn't prevent her from feeling that horrible sensation of being a stranger in Jason's world. As the afternoon passed her voice and laugh grew shrill with the effort of maintaining the illusion of happiness, and by the time Jason joined them for a swim before dinner she had worked herself into a state where she felt at odds with everything around her. Even watching Jason's lithe body cutting effortlessly through the water caused her pain. His very attractiveness seemed to set him apart from her. Her forced laughter stilled, and she became silent. Looking at her lover with grave and troubled eyes.

  For his part Jason was politely attentive—but wary with her—which she was beginning to discover was his way when she attacked him. And though the other two were no doubt unaware that anything was wrong, she felt as if a wide chasm had opened up between Jason and herself. A horrible empty space that would never be bridged.

  When she went upstairs to dress for dinner Susan came too. After she had duly admired Lorna's room she changed back into her dress and repaired her make-up. 'Isn't it great that the boys get on so well?' she said.

  Lorna paused in the act of putting on her emerald green silk dress. 'Boys?'

  'Harvey and Jason. They really do seem to hit it off.'

  'Oh! Yes. Yes they do.' She would never in a million years have thought of Jason as a 'boy'.

  Susan powdered the end of her tip-tilted nose, 'It's hard to think of Jason and Nikos as coming from the same family, isn't it?' she ventured.

  'What brought that on?' asked Lorna, settling the green silk on her hips. She wasn't at all sure that she wanted to go on di
scussing the Peritakis family, she felt too upset. But there seemed to be no way of stopping Susan.

  'I was just thinking… when he left the taverna to come here Nikos was sitting in the garden… getting plastered! He was knocking back the raki as if there was no tomorrow!'

  'I guess he's making up for yesterday,' Lorna said, 'he certainly stayed remarkably sober at the reception. I was surprised.'

  'He was probably scared to death of Jason. I don't imagine he'd stand for that kind of behaviour at his sister's wedding. I should think your Jason could be pretty scary when he gets mad.'

  'Pretty scary… yes,' Lorna admitted. 'What about Harvey? Does he have a temper?' As she had hoped this ploy released a rapturous flood of anecdotes concerning Harvey's good nature and general saintliness and Jason was forgotten.

  They ate in the dining room with Jason and Madam Peritakis. The food was simple and good, but the general atmosphere was a little triste. Over coffee on the patio Jason and Harvey got into an involved discussion about the theory of Santorini being the lost island of Atlantis, while the three women, in the fashion of all Greek gatherings, drew a little apart from the men. This was yet another thorn in Lorna's side. She stared unseeingly out at the scented night, the stars hung so low and clear they reminded her of the crystal drops on the chandelier in the dining room.

  'You are so quiet, Lorna,' Madam Peritakis remarked. 'Do you not feel well, child?'

  'I do have a bit of a headache,' Lorna said, although heart-ache would have been nearer the truth.

  'Lorna! Why didn't you say something?' Susan protested. 'You must be longing to lie down.'

  Harvey checked his watch. 'It's time we went anyway,' he said. 'Tomorrow's a working day after all, and we don't want to overstay our welcome.'

  Jason and Lorna walked their guests to the jeep Harvey had borrowed from the dig.

  'It's been a great day,' Harvey said, shaking Jason's hand fervently, 'thanks a million, Jason.'