The Silver Stain

by Paul Johnston

  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

  Mavros 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 earl
ier, 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.

  Mavros spent the next fifteen minutes on the phone to Athens police commander Nikos Kriaras, the man who had recommended him to Luke Jannet. Kriaras was unimpressed at being called so late, but he was soon hooked. He agreed to give Mavros’s idea consideration and talk to his contacts in the Ministry of Public Order. The sting in the tail was that Mavros gave him six hours to come up with the goods, or word would be passed to the press that the authorities had refused to take action in a double kidnap by the most notorious villagers in Crete.

  ‘Why are you looking so pleased?’ Cara asked.

  ‘Never mind. You realize there’s no way you can come with us?’

  The actress gave him a foxy smile. ‘I’ve already talked to Haris about that. He said his wife was coming and I could hang with her.’

  Mavros swore under his breath. It wasn’t only Cretan men who were one step away from violence. He wouldn’t fancy taking Eleni on in a fight. And the same went for the deceptively dangerous, non-Cretan Cara Parks.

  ‘It’s your neck,’ he said, shaking his head.

  Then his phone rang again. He didn’t recognize the number.

  ‘This is David Waggoner.’ The former SOE man sounded faint. ‘Listen carefully. I know your woman is in the village, but you must not come up here. They will eventually let her go, believe me. Perhaps your friend Tsifakis can broker a deal. If you appear, you’ll be committing suicide.’

  Mavros tried to keep his voice steady. ‘Why the sudden interest in my safety? You and Roufos set those neo-Nazi attack dogs on me.’

  ‘I had nothing to do with that. My only connection with that repugnant man was over Kersten’s coin collection. I have cut all ties with him.’

  ‘And you still say you had nothing to do with the German’s death?’

  ‘I certainly do.’ Waggoner paused. ‘Listen, Mavros, you’ve got the wrong end of the stick about me. I may have overstepped the mark by obtaining payments from Kersten over the years, but the man was a cold-blooded killer in the war and a hypocrite for the rest of his life.’

  ‘You also overstepped the mark, not to say the law, by aiding and abetting the Kornariates in their protection rackets and other activities for decades. For all I know, you’re the mastermind behind the village’s drug production.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous, man!’ the Englishman barked. ‘I facilitated their dealings on the coastal strip, nothing more.’ He sighed, as if in pain. ‘Look here. It’s as simple as this. If you stay away from Kornaria, I will give you certain papers and memorabilia that I took from the EAM man known as Kanellos in 1943.’

  Mavros felt a blow to his heart. ‘You have things belonging to my father?’

  ‘To him or his beloved party, yes. Do you want them?’

  Of course I fucking want them, Mavros said to himself, trying to keep afloat in the maelstrom of emotion that was suddenly sucking him down. ‘How . . . how do I take delivery?’

  ‘You know where my place in Chania is. Be there tonight at nine o’clock. But bear in mind, I will know if you’ve been in Kornaria, even if by some miracle you escape. I will destroy everything immediately, be sure of that.’

  ‘Why do you care if I go to the village?’ Mavros asked, trying to keep the old soldier on the line.

  ‘That’s my affair,’ Waggoner said, breaking the connection.

  Mavros called back, but there was no answer. He slumped in his chair.

  ‘What is it?’ Cara asked, putting her arm around his shoulders. ‘Those blows to your head playing up?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he replied, gradually getting a grip. It wasn’t the first time he had been tempted by information relating to his family, though in the past it had been about his brother, Andonis. In almost every case, people had invented things to distract him from the case in hand. It was very likely that David Waggoner was doing the same thing – but why? What interest could he have in Mavros and Niki?

  He looked up to see Haris standing in front of them.

  ‘All will be well, Alex,’ the Cretan said. ‘We have the equipment you asked for and my technicians are working on it.’

  ‘What equipment?’ Cara asked.

  ‘Need to know basis,’ Mavros said, tapping his nose.

  Hildegard was sitting in front of the fire, watching the last blackened wisps of the papers she had burned disappear up the chimney. All the photographs of her and Rudi had gone up in smoke earlier. There were only two things left, and she would be making use of them soon. The labrys she had placed on the mantelpiece, no longer needing whatever power it might have bestowed on her as a woman. Oskar had called earlier, trying to make peace, but she had told him not to bother her again. That was the last time she would speak to him.

  It was impossible not to think of the distant past – the ruins of Berlin, the horrors of the Russian occupation, the rapes she had suffered. For decades, their life in Crete had provided a refuge from those terrible memories, but no longer. Rudi’s life had been a sham, he had been the hypocrite that Waggoner always said he was. Which meant their life together had also been a sham – no, worse than that, a perversion of the good. Oskar’s revolting beliefs proved th
at, but the idea that Rudi had tried to take advantage of them was almost the last straw.

  The only saving grace in the last few days had been Alex Mavros. He had been taken in by Rudi, but so had she and for much longer. At least Alex had tried to get to the truth. She only hoped he would take her advice about not going to Kornaria. That place was evil, her husband had always said so – but at the last he had been prepared to use it to dispose of the very man who had helped them. Why had Rudi been so keen to hire Mavros to get the thirty coins back? Of course, he hadn’t wanted them back at all, employing Mavros only to prove to the insurance company that he had taken every possible step to secure their return. He had wanted to pay a deposit to Oskar for God knows what services, and the burglary must have been a set-up. He would never have expected Mavros to succeed against the ranks of skinhead swine. Getting the coins and the money back must have been a terrible shock to him. The paper she had found in his pocket was obviously written after that – when he had truly lost control of himself.

  Hildegard looked down at the objects on the rug between her and the fire. Her plan was simple, but needed a steady hand and much determination. She intended to push her husband’s paratrooper’s jump badge as far down her throat as she could and then force the point of the silver-shining Wehrmacht bayonet between her ribs and into her heart. She had made all the necessary arrangements about what was left of their estate with the lawyer – small sums were to be given to hotel employees who had been with them for many years, as well as to Alex Mavros, in recognition of what he had tried to do for them. The jump badge and bayonet were to be dropped in the sea off Maleme in a weighted bag once they had been returned by the police and medical examiner. She was ready.

  The badge was in her hand when she heard a noise at the French window at the far end of the living room. For a few seconds, she wanted to continue with her plan, but the thought of being discovered when she was still warm and being rushed to hospital, even the faint chance that she might be saved, made her drop the badge and pick up the bayonet.

  ‘Who’s there?’ she called, getting to her feet.