Maze of Death

by Philip Caveney

  The professor nodded. ‘I only spoke to him for a short while, but he certainly gave me the impression that he was someone who could be trusted. It’s quite evident that he’s not short of money, and he has paid all the necessary expenses so far.’

  The fishing boat veered to starboard and began to move in closer to the island. Alec could see that there was a series of coral reefs just below the surface and it was evident that a pilot would have to approach carefully to avoid coming to grief on them. The fishing boat moved through a narrow channel until it was a short distance from the shore and then turned once again to starboard. As it came around a headland, Alec saw that there was a hidden bay with a stone jetty, where several people and a horse and cart were waiting as though they’d been expecting the boat. Wolfe’s magnificent yacht was anchored a short distance out to sea. The fishing boat turned to approach the jetty and Lee picked up a mooring rope and threw it across to one of the men. They were all surprised to see that the people on the jetty were not dressed in modern clothing but in loose-fitting woollen tunics and leather sandals, in the style of the ancient Greeks. In a few moments, the boat had berthed and the passengers were ready to disembark.

  ‘You may leave your luggage,’ said Lee. ‘These men will bring it in the cart.’

  ‘What’s with the old-style clothes?’ asked Ethan.

  ‘It is how we dress on Candia,’ said Lee, as though this explained everything.

  ‘Yeah, well so long as you’re not expecting me to do it. I don’t have the legs to carry off a toga.’

  ‘It’s called a chiton,’ Alec corrected him. He jumped ashore and turned back to help Coates and the professor clamber over the side of the fishing boat. Ethan and Stephen followed, both offering a hand to Ellen, but she ignored them and vaulted nimbly over. Alec masked a smile with his hand and turned back to survey the jetty, but then felt a jolt of fear pulse through him as he noticed something new. Several black dogs were coming out of the trees that rose up beyond the beach. They were big, heavy-set creatures and they moved slowly towards the jetty, their heads lowered, their teeth bared, giving every indication that they were intent on attacking the visitors.

  ‘Rottweilers,’ muttered Coates. ‘Beastly things.’

  Ethan glanced up and said something under his breath, probably remembering an encounter he’d had back in Egypt with some very aggressive hyenas. He reached instinctively for his pistol, but Lee lifted a hand to stop him.

  ‘No need,’ he said. He put a hand into his jacket and pulled out a metal whistle. He lifted it to his lips and blew a couple of short blasts. Alec heard nothing and decided that the whistle’s pitch must be too high for human ears, but the dogs reacted immediately, dropping down into sitting positions and looking perfectly calm.

  ‘The Maenads are safe now,’ said Lee. ‘We may proceed.’

  ‘The Maenads?’ said Alec.

  Coates looked at him. ‘That means something to you?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. In Greek mythology, they were a group of women, followers of Dionysus. It means “raving ones”. These women would dance and drink until they lost all reason and then they would attack animals and sometimes men, women, and even children – tearing them apart in their madness.’

  ‘How charming,’ said Coates. ‘And I’ve no doubt that’s what would have happened to us if it had not been for Mr Lee’s magic whistle.’

  Lee smiled mirthlessly. ‘Mr Wolfe not like people come here uninvited,’ he explained. ‘When strangers see the Maenads, they stay on boat.’

  ‘I’m not surprised,’ said the professor. ‘And what does it take to turn these . . . Maenads back into ravening beasts?’

  ‘One word from me,’ said Lee, with the ghost of a smile. ‘So, best not make enemy of me. Come, it is short walk only.’ He led the way along the jetty and the visitors followed. As he walked, Alec was horribly aware of the black dogs watching intently from either side of him. He noticed that Ethan kept his hand on the stock of his Colt .45, every step of the way.

  Lee led the group of visitors across a stretch of sandy beach to a place where a series of wide steps rose up, curving around to the left. Alec could see that the steps had been hewn out of the solid rock. He glanced over his shoulder, back to the jetty. Some men were loading the luggage into the cart and the Maenads, as though bored with watching, were slinking back into the trees, like a series of dark shadows against the shocking whiteness of the beach. Alec found himself wondering what a person might do if they found themselves out on that beach with no weapons to protect them. He turned away and followed the others up the broad curve of the steps.

  Ethan was walking some distance ahead of him and as he came around the curve, Alec heard him say, ‘Holy moly!’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Alec, quickening his pace.

  ‘It’s a regular palace,’ said Ethan and as Alec came up alongside him, he instantly understood his friend’s amazement. Set into the side of the cliff was one of the most amazing buildings he had ever seen. Constructed from gleaming white marble that shimmered in the sunlight, it rose up in front of them like a sultan’s palace from an Arabian fairytale – soaring white columns on an epic scale, intricately sculpted verandas, gigantic stone arches and deep blue minarets. Here stood massive sculptures of mythical beasts and powerful warriors. There were marble-tiled courtyards and ornamental fountains that flung jets of foaming water high into the air.

  Alec just stood there, his mouth open, his eyes bulging. This was architecture that rivalled the wonders of the ancient world, and yet it was clear at a glance that this was recently built, the stone pure and unweathered by the passing centuries. Evidently, Wolfe’s boasts about his great wealth had not been exaggerated, for it must have taken millions of pounds to create something like this. Alec glanced around and realized that because of the clever positioning of the palace, none of this would be visible from the beach or the open sea.

  ‘Unbelievable,’ said the professor. ‘Mr Wolfe promised me something spectacular, but this . . . it beggars belief.’

  ‘It’s not bad,’ said Coates grudgingly. ‘A little over the top, if you ask me.’

  Everyone looked at him. Alec thought that Coates could have found the downside in just about anything if he put his mind to it.

  ‘That must be the arena,’ said Ellen, pointing away to the left and Alec saw that, sure enough, to the side of the building the ground dropped away and in a deep hollow there was a huge round sunken arena enclosed by a high stone wall.

  ‘What kind of gymnastics are you going to be doing in there?’ asked Ethan. ‘Looks more like a place where Roman gladiators slug it out.’

  Ellen gave him an odd look, but she didn’t reply, and then Lee was beckoning the group up the last few steps and onto a broad flagged approach to a set of high stone gates. They passed between the gates, climbed a couple of steps to another level and approached the main entrance to the palace. Alec found himself thinking of it as that because no other word would have adequately described the building. Ahead of them now stood a huge arched doorway. The heavy wooden doors opened as they approached, and two figures came walking out to greet them. It was Wolfe and Ariadne, but neither of them was dressed as they had been back in Knossos.

  Wolfe wore a long purple and white tunic that hung nearly to his feet, which were encased in leather sandals. With his silver hair and beard, he looked very regal indeed. Ariadne wore a long white robe that swept over one shoulder and was tied around the middle with a length of cord. Her dark hair was elaborately braided and she wore heavy metal bracelets around her wrists. They came to a halt at the top of another short flight of steps and smiled down at their guests.

  ‘Welcome to Candia,’ said Tobias Wolfe, a strangely gleeful expression on his bearded face. ‘I trust you had a good journey.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  Wolfe’s Palace

  THERE WAS A long silence while everyone stared up at Wolfe and his daughter. Then Ethan spoke. ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘How come nobody
said anything about fancy dress?’

  For a moment, Alec thought Wolfe looked insulted, even angry, but then he made an effort and rearranged his expression into one of amusement. He even managed a deep, booming laugh.

  ‘You must forgive us, Mr Wade,’ he said. ‘This is one of my little conceits. When I am relaxing at home, I prefer to wear traditional garments. My daughter is less fond of the custom, but I am generally able to persuade her.’

  ‘I hope you don’t expect us to observe the custom,’ said the professor, mopping at his brow with a handkerchief. ‘I’m afraid I wouldn’t feel at all comfortable dressed in such a manner.’

  ‘Perhaps, but I can assure you, you’d feel a lot cooler,’ said Wolfe. He bowed slightly and gestured to his guests with a sweep of his hand. ‘Please, come inside. I trust Lee looked after you on your way here?’

  ‘Oh marvellous,’ said Coates, with undisguised sarcasm. ‘He kept us all very entertained. He’s a regular chatterbox!’

  Wolfe smiled. ‘He’s not the greatest of conversationalists,’ he admitted, ‘but he has his uses.’ He and Ariadne turned and led the way back inside. Alec stared around in mute amazement as they entered a hallway where more stone columns soared upwards to an intricately decorated roof. The scale was astonishing. Alec felt like a tiny insect dwarfed by his surroundings.

  ‘This place is amazing,’ he said at last. ‘It’s . . . it’s a perfect reconstruction of an ancient Greek palace.’

  ‘I am ridiculously proud of it,’ Wolfe admitted with barely concealed pleasure. ‘It’s taken ten years of hard work to bring it to this. I hope you approve of my efforts.’

  Alec nodded eagerly, but Coates was, as ever, more difficult to impress. ‘I see what you meant when you said that Sir Arthur Evans’s work at Knossos was . . . insignificant. Where he has been content to merely suggest, you’ve taken your reconstruction to the ultimate level.’ Coates somehow managed to make the observation sound disapproving.

  ‘I am a perfectionist,’ admitted Wolfe. ‘And in my opinion, Sir Arthur simply didn’t go far enough.’

  ‘Extraordinary,’ murmured the professor. ‘I wonder, Mr Wolfe, would you not consider throwing this place open to the general public? I’m sure there are many who would pay for the privilege of seeing something like this.’

  ‘No doubt,’ admitted Wolfe. ‘But as I told you before, I prefer to keep Candia to myself and for the pleasure of a chosen few. Perhaps you’d allow me to give you a brief guided tour?’

  Without waiting for a reply, he turned and led the way across the hall and his guests could do little else but follow him, like visitors to a museum trooping after a tour guide. He led them towards a huge arched doorway. Alec noticed that Ariadne made no attempt to follow them. He glanced back briefly and saw that she was watching him, a troubled expression on her lovely face, and he thought about hanging back to see if he could snatch a quiet word with her – but then he noticed that Lee was watching him intently, so he abandoned the idea and followed the others.

  ‘Now, if you’d like to come this way, we’ll start with the andron – the dining room – where we’ll be eating lunch later on. Of course, in ancient times, only men would have been allowed to eat there, but’ – he bowed politely in Ellen’s direction – ‘I’m sure today we can make an exception.’

  Wolfe led them through a whole series of rooms, giving a brief explanation of each one in turn, turning left and right through arched openings seemingly at random. Alec quickly became disorientated and realized that if he had been asked to retrace his steps back to his starting point, he would have been hard pressed to do it. Wolfe showed them sitting rooms and bedchambers and open courtyards, each amazing sight leading directly on to the next. At one point he led them into a huge gymnasium, the walls hung with swords, shields and spears, where a couple of men in ancient-Greek style armour were fighting each other with shields and wooden swords.

  ‘What’s all this in aid of?’ asked Coates.

  Wolfe smiled politely. ‘It’s not “in aid” of anything, Mr Coates,’ he said. ‘I insist that all the men who work for me undergo regular weapons training.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Ethan.

  ‘Because it’s good for the character.’

  As he said this, one warrior lashed his wooden blade across his opponent’s shoulder, nearly making him drop his shield.

  ‘Good job that wasn’t a real sword,’ observed Ellen.

  ‘Oh, they train with wooden swords for a while,’ explained Wolfe. ‘Only when they reach a certain level do they move on to real ones.’

  ‘Where do you get the men from?’ asked Stephen.

  ‘They are the natives of this island. Before I came here, they managed to make a poor living from growing olives. Now they are handsomely paid for their work.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Let’s move on, shall we?’ He took them though another arched doorway and down a steep flight of stone steps. ‘I’m particularly proud of this place,’ he said.

  They found themselves entering a huge steamy chamber with a domed ceiling.

  ‘Amazing,’ said the professor.

  The room was dominated by two large pools of water. One was man-made and rectangular, like a small swimming pool, in which hot water steamed. The other was a natural pool, roughly circular and surrounded by rocks. Alec could see that the water in this pool was bubbling and hissing with incredible heat.

  ‘A natural hot spring heated by underground magma,’ explained Wolfe. ‘You’ll notice there’s a channel that links the two pools?’ He stooped and operated a simple lever, allowing boiling water from the natural pool to rush along the channel and enter the bath. Then he indicated a huge stone tank that stood at one end of it. ‘That’s kept filled with cold water,’ he explained. ‘When I add that to the boiling water from the hot spring, I have a bath fit for a king. It’s here that I come to immerse myself and think great thoughts.’

  Coates’s expression of disgust when Wolfe gave this information was an absolute picture and Alec had to make an effort not to laugh out loud.

  ‘So,’ he asked, before Coates had a chance to say anything, ‘is, er . . . is this an original feature?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Wolfe. ‘I have merely brought it back to the way it must have been at the time of the Minoans. I have no doubt that this underground chamber must have been used by the king himself.’ He turned the lever to stop the flow of water. ‘That’s probably enough of a tour for now,’ he said. ‘If I showed you each and every room in this palace, we’d doubtless be wandering till the early hours, but I’m sure you’d all appreciate the opportunity to freshen up in your rooms before lunch.’

  ‘That would be most welcome,’ said Ellen.

  ‘Come along, then, I’ll show you where you’ll be. For the sake of convenience, I’ve put you all in the same wing.’

  He led the way back up to the ground floor and then another staircase took them to the first floor.

  ‘I wouldn’t like to have to find my way around this place,’ said Stephen, as they climbed. ‘How many rooms are there altogether?’

  ‘Two hundred and thirty-five,’ said Wolfe; and his calm expression showed he wasn’t joking.

  ‘Boy, I’d hate to be your cleaner,’ said Ethan. Wolfe laughed at that. Then he indicated an open metal door to their left.

  ‘Master Devlin, Mr Coates, Mr Wade. I’ve put the three of you in one suite. I trust you’ll be comfortable in there. I’ll send somebody to collect you when lunch is ready.’ He turned back to the others. ‘Miss McBride, gentlemen, if you’d care to follow me, your rooms are just a little further along this hallway.’ And he led the others onward.

  Alec, Ethan and Coates strolled into their suite and saw that their rucksacks had already been brought up for them. The suite comprised a main room, a bathroom and three opulent bedchambers.

  Alec stared around in absolute wonder. ‘Can you believe this place?’ he cried. ‘It’s like something out of a film by D. W. Griffiths!’

&nb
sp; Coates made a sour face. ‘It’s vulgar,’ he said. ‘Being rich is one thing, but flaunting it in such a way, that’s another matter. Who does Wolfe think he is? Did you hear him talking about that giant bath of his?’ He adopted an unconvincing Scottish accent. ‘“It’s where I come to immerse myself and think great thoughts . . .” Honestly! That man is his own greatest admirer.’

  ‘I think you’re being a little hard on the guy,’ said Ethan, throwing himself down on a sumptuous silk couch. ‘He’s giving us a swell time, ain’t he?’

  ‘Yes, but what’s it all in aid of?’ Coates opened one of the rucksacks and started bustling around the room, unpacking the clothes. ‘If you ask me there are things about Mr Wolfe that simply don’t add up.’

  ‘Oh, Coates,’ said Alec. ‘Not again!’

  ‘Consider the evidence, Master Alec!’ Coates opened a wardrobe and began to fold Alec’s shirts and place them inside. ‘Here’s a man who is frightfully rich, yet nobody seems to know anything about him. A man who claims to want his privacy, yet is actually willing to pay for people to come over to his island. Then there’s that odd Chinese chap who hardly says a word, but follows Wolfe around like a pet dog. And as for his daughter—’

  ‘What about his daughter?’ asked Alec, a little too quickly.

  Coates grunted. ‘Haven’t you seen the way she acts when they’re together? She never makes eye contact with him. It’s almost as though she’s afraid of him.’

  ‘Coates, I figure you’ve been reading too many of them detective stories.’ Ethan chuckled. ‘But OK, I’ll grant you, this Wolfe character is kind of unusual.’

  ‘That’s the understatement of the year!’

  ‘But I figure he’s just like a lot of them rich guys. Eccentric. He’s got this little Greek legend thing going and he’s enjoying himself. So long as nobody gets hurt, I don’t see any problem.’

  ‘This “little Greek legend thing”, as you like to call it, amounts to an unhealthy obsession! Why doesn’t he put his money to a more worthwhile end? He could find a cure for smallpox . . . devote his life to working with the poor . . .’