Mayhem in Greece

by Dennis Wheatley

  It was now obvious that he had been on to them from that very first meeting. When they had failed to appear on the bathing beach on the Saturday morning, he would have enquired about them at the office and learned soon afterwards that they had flown to Crete. As there was only the once-weekly air service from Rhodes, he would have had to take the Sunday plane to Athens to follow them, then the Monday flight down to Heraklion. He must have arrived the previous evening. No doubt, he would have been to the Astir and learned that Monsieur and Madame Thévanaz had spent Saturday night there, then left. An enquiry at the Olympic Airways office would have satisfied him that no couple answering their description had since left Crete by air. He would have concluded that they had gone to earth somewhere on the island and that, by then, they would probably have found out the location at which the Czech group was working. To have hunted for them would have been looking for a needle in a haystack; but it was a good bet that they would come to Ayia Triada and try to find out what was going on there, just as they had done at Monolithos. That must be why he had come out there that morning. He had probably been prepared to lie in wait for them there for several days. As things had turned out he had been lucky, and had not had to wait long.

  In a few tense moments, those thoughts ran through Robbie’s agitated mind. With them alternated others. Should he attempted to run for it? If he did, he would be shot in the back before he had covered a couple of yards. Should he squirm round, wriggle to his knees and pray that, by launching himself forward, in one swift move, he would be able to grab the gun? No. That would be equally suicidal. He could not possibly reach it before his enemy pressed the trigger and a bullet smashed into his heart or skull. If he surrendered, what would become of him?

  In this lonely spot, it was quite possible that ‘Mahogany Brown’ might decide to put an end to him there and then, and hide his body in one of the many deep ditches that scored the scrub. The only person near enough to be certain to hear the shot was the peasant with the donkey down at the ford. But they were hidden from him by the rise of the hill; so he would probably think that one of the Czechs on the opposite side was out after small game.

  On the other hand, there seemed a chance that his captor would march him down to the farmhouse and keep him a prisoner there during the day, with the intention of putting an end to him, as Barak had meant to, by taking him out to sea and drowning him that night. In the latter case, Stephanie would become anxious when he failed to rejoin her and, with ten or twelve hours to work in, might, perhaps, bring help to save him before he was taken down to the beach.

  But she would have no idea where he had got to. Even if, when searching the hills, she came upon the Czech site and guessed he was being held a prisoner there, she would still be many miles from any police station. It was certain, too, that there would be delays before anyone high-up enough could be induced to give an order for a raid. So, even if she did find out some time during the afternoon what had happened to him, only if given great good luck would she be able to bring help to him.

  At length, those silent moments that had seemed years to Robbie ended by his gasping out: ‘What … what do you mean to do with me?’

  ‘Do? Why, nothing.’ The fair eyebrows behind the levelled automatic were raised in surprise. ‘All I want is to get you talking.’

  ‘Talking!’ Robbie repeated. Then it struck him that his enemy would naturally want to get out of him how much he knew and might already have passed on, before putting him out of the way for good.

  But Mahogany Brown had lowered the point of his pistol and was going on: ‘I caught you napping and sure put the wind up you, didn’t I? You were such a sitting pigeon I thought I’d get a laugh out of announcing myself. Come on. Let’s crawl back out of sight of those lousy Czechs, so that if one of them happens to look this way he won’t spot us.’

  As he spoke, he put his gun back in a shoulder holster, turned round and began to scramble away through the scrub.

  Robbie was left speechless. He was overwhelmed with relief at the extraordinary turn affairs had taken but utterly at a loss to understand it. After a moment, he began to wriggle after the American until they were over the brow of the hill and again within a hundred yards of the ruins of Ayia Triada. Getting to their feet, they walked the rest of the way, then Mahogany Brown sat himself down on a low wall, took out his cigarette case, offered it to Robbie who shook his head, lit a cigarette and said:

  ‘Now, stop acting like a clam and tell all you know.’

  ‘I … I don’t understand,’ Robbie muttered.

  ‘Then it’s quite time you did. You damned Limeys are too cagey by half. I’m C.I.A. and in Rhodes I indicated that to you clearly enough, but you wouldn’t take a hint. You are British M.I., and Standing Orders are that, when the occasion arises, we should work together.’

  Robbie shook his head. ‘No, I’m not M.I. I assure you I’m not.’

  ‘Oh, cut it out. You’re the nephew of the British Ambassador, aren’t you? It’s no good telling me that he let you go into this thing without putting you in touch with your own Secret Service.’

  ‘My uncle knows nothing about this. He hasn’t the faintest idea what I have been doing these past few weeks.’

  ‘Do you really mean to tell me that you’re a “lone wolf” and have been risking your neck snooping on the Czechs for the fun of the thing?’

  ‘Well, not exactly for the fun of it. More because I am convinced that they are up to something that will do neither your country nor mine any good.’

  ‘At least, then, you’ll see the sense of our working together.’

  ‘Yes,’ Robbie agreed heartily. ‘I certainly do. But how did you get on to me?’

  ‘About the end of March, someone in Athens suggested to my Chief at N.A.T.O. that we ought to look into the Greco-Czech tobacco-oil deal. It was hinted at the time that a Britisher had already left the city to investigate some of the sites, but, as there were so many of them, it would be a good thing if our people took an interest too. My Chief put two of us on the job. I’ve been in Lesbos, Chios, Kos and Samos. The day I got to Rhodes, I saw a piece in the Press about a car smash up in the mountains. Your name was mentioned and that of a Mrs. Barak. We had known for some time that Barak was in charge of this so-called oil prospecting, so it looked to me that you might be the British agent we’d heard talk of. I got through to Athens on the blower from our H.Q. in Rhodes. They had had it directly from the police that you had bumped off a Czech strong-arm man named Cepicka; so odds-on I was right.’

  The American paused to stub out his cigarette, then he went on: ‘Of course, I was only out for information. I didn’t expect to run into you, but it was just on the cards that I might; and so happen I did. I went out to Monolithos to see if the site there was any different from those I’d seen in the other islands further north; and there you were. Hoping you’d had better luck than I had, I hooked on to you, but that was as far as I got. Every time I tried to get you to open, you stone-walled me.’

  Robbie frowned. ‘You certainly asked us any number of direct questions, but you said nothing to let me know that you were a Central Intelligence Agency man. Why didn’t you tell me straight out?’

  ‘Because I believed you to be British M.I. If you had been, you’d have got the cue quickly enough. As you didn’t respond, I couldn’t be certain that my guess about you had been right. Your having left Athens with Mrs. Barak and still having her in tow seemed a mighty queer set-up. I couldn’t figure it out at all. But it was just on the cards that you might be playing along with the Czechs and naturally I wasn’t taking any chances by showing my hand—not with her around.’

  ‘How did you find out for certain, then, that I was playing the same game as yourself?’

  ‘Your suddenly quitting Rhodes for Crete gave me the idea that you might have got on to something here; so I followed. I got in yesterday evening, but I couldn’t trace you; so I came out here this morning. I had a hunch that if I sat around for a while, you m
ight show up. You did, and when I saw you stalking those two Czechs, that told me for sure that you were not on their side but on mine.’

  ‘Well, where do we go from here?’ Robbie asked.

  ‘We’ve got to have a long talk: compare notes. Two heads are always better than one in this game. If we argue round all the possible theories we can think of, we may get somewhere. That is, unless you’ve already solved this riddle?’

  ‘No; I wish to God I had.’

  ‘I take it, er … well, to call a rose by any other name, Julie Thévanaz is still with you?’

  ‘Yes, she’s in a car we’ve hired, down on the road about a mile away, waiting for me.’

  The American sat silent for a few moments, then he said: ‘Look, friend. I’ve no wish to butt in on your private life, and I’ve no doubt you trust her. But that’s no reason why I should. I’ve no intention of discussing this business in front of her, and before we go any further I want your word that you won’t let on to her that I’m anything but an American playboy.’

  Robbie shook his head. ‘I’m afraid I can’t give it. Not if we are going to work together. That would mean my leaving her for hours, or perhaps days, and I wouldn’t do that without giving her a proper explanation. You see, she’s been absolutely marvellous as far as I am concerned. You are right about my having killed Cepicka and being wanted by the police. Without her help, I doubt if I could have kept out of their clutches for twenty-four hours, so’

  ‘Since you admit to having killed that guy,’ Mahogany Brown cut in, ‘as I see it, there is only one way you can beat the rap. That is by helping me get the better of the Czechs. If we can pin the goods on them, it is they who will be up before the Judge; then, whatever actually occurred between you and Cepicka, you can plead that it was all part of the job, and put yourself in the clear by pleading self-defence.’

  His proposal had exactly the same object as that by which Stephanie had urged Robbie ten days before at Argos to try to save himself, and which they now hoped to achieve by luring Barak to Crete. But Barak might not take the bait, and here was a second life-line. Robbie was desperately tempted to snatch at it but he felt that, after all Stephanie had done for him and with all she had come to mean to him, he could not possibly deceive her in this way. He was about to say so when the American, who had been watching the struggle plainly to be seen on his features, said:

  ‘It’s no good making promises unless you mean to keep them, and it’s clear that this woman’s got right under your skin. But say, now, could you honestly agree to this? Tell her that I’m C.I.A., and that we’re going to work together; but don’t disclose to her any information I may give you and keep her absolutely in the dark about any action that we may decide to take.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Robbie, ‘that’s fair enough. I’ll agree to that.’

  ‘Right, then, let’s get moving. Since she’s waiting for you, we’ll have to put off our talk, because it’s got to be a long one. I take it you are staying in Heraklion?’ As the American asked the question, they headed for the track that led down the far side of the hill.

  ‘Yes,’ Robbie replied.

  ‘Where about?’

  ‘That’s my business.’

  Mahogany Brown grinned. ‘Afraid I’d make an unwelcome third in your love nest, eh? You needn’t worry. It’s you I’m interested in at the moment; not Julie, or whatever you care to call her. When I’ve left you, tell her that we are going to work together and that you are going to have dinner with me this evening at the Heraklion Club, so as to swop information. It’s in King Constantine Avenue, so you’ll have no difficulty in finding it. The premises and the cooking are not exactly á la Ritz, but they give you an edible meal there, and at the Candia Palace, where I’m staying, guests have to eat out. Be there at seven thirty and I’ll be setting up the drinks.’

  ‘How did you get out here?’ Robbie asked.

  ‘I hired a motor bike. It’s down there among the bushes, just off the road.’

  They came to the stream and crossed it in turn on the donkey. As they were walking along the path on its far side, the American said: ‘Remember, as far as Julie is concerned, we’ve met again by chance. I don’t want any talk of this and that while she is round. I’ll just say that, after leaving Rhodes, I decided to fly down from Athens for a few days in Crete and came out this morning to take a look at Ayia Triada. Later, when you have her alone, you can tell her I’m C.I.A. That way she’ll have no chance to ask me any questions to which I’d be put to the bother of thinking up lies for answers. Have you made any plans for lunch?’

  ‘We meant to lunch at the Tourist Pavilion at Phaestos, but I spotted those two Czechs at Gortyne and followed them here.’

  Mahogany Brown glanced at his wrist-watch. ‘It’s only just half after one, and Phaestos is less than six kilometres from here. There’s nowhere else within miles where we’d get anything better than a slice of tough goat, olives and sour cheese, so we’d better make for there. I’m told it’s worth seeing, too.’

  Two minutes later, they came out on the road. Stephanie was still sitting patiently at the wheel of the car. The moment Mahogany Brown came within sight of her, his personality changed back to that of the irrepressibly cheerful young man they had known in Rhodes. Raising his hand, he gave a loud cry.

  ‘Hello! Hello! What d’you know! Just fancy seeing you again. Say, Julie, you’re prettier than ever. What a bit of luck for me running into old Max here, while I was giving the onceover to those ruins. I’ve got a motor bike somewhere round in these bushes. Soon as I can find the darn thing we’re all going on to Phaestos, and lunch there is on me.’

  Stephanie had enjoyed dancing with him in Rhodes and had encouraged him, not with any view to making Robbie jealous but because his gay, inconsequential chatter helped to keep both her mind and Robbie’s off the serious developments that might arise at any time through the police learning Robbie’s real identity. Now she was far from pleased that he should have turned up again, since he might prove very difficult to throw off, and their situation in Crete was very different from what it had been in Rhodes. Nevertheless, she returned his greeting with a smile and called out: ‘Why, Henry, what a lovely surprise to find you here.’

  Henry found his motor cycle. Stephanie turned the car round and ten minutes later they were winding their way up the hill on which stood the ruins of Phaestos.

  The situation of the Palace had been greatly superior to that of Knossos, as the hill that it crowned lay between two ranges of mountains, and it had been built in a series of terraces looking out on the long valley between them. The Tourist Pavilion was above the highest of these terraces; so while they ate a pleasant lunch on the shady verandah, they had the ruins just below them and could admire the splendid twenty-mile-long vista.

  Over the meal, they talked of the international situation. The American said that he had found Athens almost empty of foreigners. The tourist season, which meant so much to Greece and which should now be in full swing, had been ruined, the Stock Markets had taken another plunge after the breakdown of the Delhi Conference, and many rich Greeks were leaving the capital, either for places in the country or the islands in the Aegean, because they thought that would give them a better chance of survival in the event of war. But he was still of the opinion that there would not be war.

  The crew of the submarine was reported to be in good shape. Modern scientific devices in the ship would enable them to remain so for several weeks to come, without being compelled to surface for air. The United States had long since made a declaration that she would never be the first to launch a nuclear conflict, and the Russians would be mad to do so. There was still plenty of time for further negotiations and, in some way or other, a compromise would be reached. ‘Anyhow,’ the optimistic Mr. Mahogany Brown concluded, ‘if the Russians do go crackers and start the big party, we couldn’t be better situated than we are right now. No one’s going to waste an I.C.B.M. on Crete.’

  When they had fini
shed lunch, they spent an hour wandering about the great open courts, broad imposing stairways and small rooms of the Palace. It was not so large as Knossos but, with its many terraces, must have been much more beautiful. It had been destroyed in the same great earthquake that had devastated the island from end to end somewhere about 1400 B.C.

  A little before four o’clock, they set off back to Heraklion. As Mahogany Brown started up his motor bike, he gave a casual wave, shouted ‘I’ll be seeing you’, then roared away.

  Stephanie let in the clutch of the car and, as it sped down the hill, said to Robbie: ‘Fancy running into him again. How unlike him, though, not to have suggested our doing something together this evening. He didn’t even ask where we were staying. Or did you fob him off by giving him a false address when you were up there with him at Ayia Triada?’

  ‘No. But he gave me the fright of my life.’ Robbie then told her how Mahogany Brown had held him up, and of their conversation afterwards.

  She made no comment until he had finished, then she said: ‘It was very loyal of you, Robbie, to have refused to co-operate with him without telling me. I take it you didn’t deny that I was Mrs. Barak?’

  ‘No. I saw no point in doing so. During the few days between your reported death and his coming upon us at Monolithos, the odds against my having found another woman who more or less answered your description and was willing to pose as my wife would be fantastic.’