Chapter 72
Two hours later, Ashby found himself in the Kolonaki district, in a five-star hotel and a room with views to the Parthenon and the Aegean.
As he waited in the lobby of The Lord Byron, he wondered whether Stefanides could really uncover what had happened to the Captain Stratos.
Malory’s colleague appeared to be the owner or proprietor of the Perikles Hotel. From the look of its clientele, he had underworld connections and knew all of the city’s criminal gangs. His features were only partially Greek ; there was also a dash of Armenian, Turkish, Bulgarian or Yugoslav or a combination of all of them. From his accent, he’d lived in America – and probably for a time in a communist or semi-communist country. Hence, the link to Malory. Along the way, he’d have picked up contacts with the political and military set and the intelligence network in continental Europe and beyond. Money was his prime motivation, implying that he did contract work for the security services – it wasn’t his employment. He didn’t have a job, as such.
As Stefanides’ paymaster, Ashby knew that he couldn’t trust him. If there was someone else with a larger wad of money – such as Elefthriou, then Ashby might find himself outbid.
Promptly at one o’clock, Stefanides himself arrived and led Ashby out to a waiting car. As soon as they jumped in, the driver took off at a pace.
“We’re gonna go to Piraeus, to the bar where you met the others,” said Stefanides, “and from there, we’re gonna see the mate. So far, they’re our best lead. It’s only been two hours since we started but all I’ve found out is that this guy, Christoforou was born and grew up in Greece, he qualified and worked as a ship’s Captain and the ships he worked on included the Aegean Star and the Captain Stratos. That’s all. It ain’t much to go on.”
At the outset, Stefanides had thought that finding the Captain would be child’s play and that it would be the easiest hundred thousand dollars he’d made in his life. But he’d found nothing remarkable about Christoforou at all. It was as if the Captain had disappeared without trace.
There were almost no records of Christoforou’s family. He’d married decades earlier and had four children but by now they were grown up. There were no public documents saying where his wife could be found – if, indeed he was still married. He didn’t have a bank account at any of the major banks. His social security account was untouched and no deposits or withdrawals had been made. The maritime authority had him listed as drowned at sea on the date when the Captain Stratos was lost. The Greek police had picked him up four or five years earlier for offences of violence – drunk and disorderly in a bar and actual bodily harm when he knocked another seaman unconscious. Apart from that, there were only some speeding and parking tickets outstanding from four years earlier. None of the airlines had him listed as a passenger during the previous two years and his passport had expired. He didn’t own any property or a car and the money he’d left in his will had been distributed after his ‘demise’.
Stefanides didn’t say how or where he’d obtained all of this information, merely that it was correct.
“You’ve found out quite a lot about him,” said Ashby. “And in the space of just two hours.”
“As you said – time is against us. He’s done a good job, this character, of covering his tracks. I expect that – there’s a lot at stake – isn’t that right ? To be exact, twenny million pounds.”
“You saw the newspaper reports ? That at least is what they’re claiming. Even if the ship had gone down, it was only an old tub and wouldn’t have been worth anywhere near that.”
“Mebbe. Mebbe not. But it’s a big hit for a company like yours – and when you’ve called in a liquidator.”
“Actually, the newspapers got that wrong but I agree, it’s still a very large claim to pay. And yes, our company faces ruin at the hands of a very clever gang of criminals. My father spent thirty years building up Plantation, only for it to be wrecked by crooks.”
“They’re just businessmen like you and.....just a moment.....we’re here. Is this the bar where you met Yannis ?”
“Yes, this it,” said Ashby and they both got out.
He recognised the street and the surrounding area and they could hear the sound of containers being loaded and unloaded in the port further along the waterfront. As for the bar itself, it appeared to have closed down. There was a ‘To Let’ sign in Greek above the doorway with no lights on and no activity inside.
Stefanides made a note of the letting agents’ name and telephone number and said “There’s nothing here. Let’s go find the mate.”
“Look at all of these notes in the windows,” said Ashby.
The bar was on the corner of an alleyway and a main street. Inside the windows were printed leaflets, posters and handwritten notes.
“They’re nothin’,” said his guide. “Advertising, kids playing in rock bands, live music, local people doing odd jobs. Come on, let’s go.”
There were a few houses in the immediate area which showed signs of life. An old man up the street said the taverna had been closed because the barman was emigrating.
As they got in the car, Ashby noticed a light on in what appeared to be an upstairs flat above the bar. Nothing could be seen behind the lace curtains.
The driver swung the car around and headed towards the far side of the port. On a road map, Ashby indicated where he’d gone with the barman and Yannis to see the mate of the Aegean Star. In ten minutes they’d arrived and on the spot where the mate’s hut had stood, they again found nothing. The entire edifice had been dismantled and removed.
“Not having much luck, are we ?” said Ashby whilst walking around the place where the hut had once been. The grass hadn’t re-grown in the two weeks since he was last there.
“They’ve tried to close off all the ways we could find him,” said Stefanides. “That makes three people who’ve disappeared – and each of them knows something about the Captain. Smart operators. But someone has gotta know where they are. It means we’ll have to work harder to dig one of ‘em out. Let’s go back to your hotel and make a few calls.”
In another half hour, they were back where they’d started. Stefanides sat in a phone booth in the hotel foyer. In between making calls, he buried himself in the Athens telephone book, writing down numbers and names. When he’d rung around fifteen people, he called a halt. They adjourned to the balcony of Ashby’s room where they considered their strategy over coffee. Stefanides smoked American cigarettes.
In the distance, behind the Parthenon, two or three ferries were heading out to the islands. It was a moderately warm afternoon and the sun wasn’t as fierce as in summer.
Stefanides paced the balcony, lighting one cigarette after another, swinging a string of worry beads to and fro.
“No-one in the Port Authority can tell me what happened to the mate. He’s probably got a job working on a ship but under a false name and passport. So – forget him. No-one at Hermes Transnational knows anything and if they do, they aren’t saying. Then I tried some.....friends around the waterfront area who knew this guy, Yannis but no-one has seen him for the past few weeks and they don’t know where he’s gone. All they know is, he isn’t around any more. So, I keep drawing blanks. I also tried the real estate company who are looking for a new tenant for the taverna. They can’t help us because the barman left no forwarding address.”
“I’d like you to try something for me,” said Ashby. “Could you ring these numbers I saw in the window...”
“What numbers ?”
“The cards advertising odd jobs, each had a phone number – I wrote down a few while you were talking to the old man in the street.”
“They’re nothing.”
“Can you try anyway – tell them you’re looking for Nikos, the barman. They will probably say that they don’t know where he is and can’t help you. Tell them it’s a shame because a friend has some money for him. Just tell them I’m staying at this hotel.”
“It’s a wa
ste of time. And if it’s known you’ve got money and the wrong people get to hear it, it could mean trouble. It isn’t just Elefthriou and the shipowners we’re up against – it’s their enforcers. Those guys don’t worry me – I know them and I can handle them – but they might try to get you to pay up before railroading you outta the country – or getting rid of you.”
“That’s alright. I’m paying you to protect me and my hundred thousand and I don’t plan to be here long anyway so I’ll take the risk. Let’s see what happens.”
As an incentive, Ashby took out a wad of American five hundred dollar bills from his wallet and counted out five thousand dollars. “There’s half of your up-front payment,” he said.
Reluctantly, Stefanides rang the three numbers which Ashby had written down. And as expected, none of them knew the barman and slammed the phone down.
“Ya see, I told you we were wasting our time that way. These people won’t talk because they’ve been threatened. Let’s try a different way. Let me see the documents you brought with you from London. Do you have a list of the crew ?”
Ashby took out his file of papers. There were twenty two crew.
“They’re all Philippinos,” said Ashby.
Stefanides ignored him and ran his eye down the list.
“This one – Keo – it’s Greek.”
“What ? At the hearing, they said that all of the crew were definitely Philippino and only the Captain was Greek.”
“Well, I say they’re wrong. I know Greek ships. In the crew list here, it’s spelt ‘Chio’ which sounds Asian but it should be spelt ‘K-E-O’. Let’s see. He was the Chief Engineer. After the captain, the engineer keeps the ship going.”
He grabbed the telephone book and began searching for the name. Within a short time, he said “Here’s one in the Piraeus area. It must be him.”
After ringing the number, he spoke in Greek in a pompous manner and much more arrogantly than his usual condescending style. At the end of the call, he said “Very interesting. I just spoke to a woman who said she was Keo’s wife. I told her I was from the police and that we were tracking her husband down. She tried to say that he was dead but I said that one of the crew on the Captain Stratos had told us what had really happened and that we knew her husband was alive. I said it would go easier for him if he turned himself in. She turned on the waterworks and said ‘Alright, you can find him on the Eastern Dawn, an oil tanker sailing between Rotterdam and the Persian Gulf. He’s using a different name.’ What do you think of that ?”
“We may be getting somewhere. It just confirms what I’ve been saying all along – that Hellas Global are fraudsters. Now, if we followed it up, it would mean we’d have to locate the Eastern Dawn which could be anywhere between Holland and the Gulf. Then we’d have to find out if the engineer really was Keo and if it was, we’d somehow have to get him off the ship and back to Athens to question him. Obviously, the police would be involved and we’d need to persuade them in advance.”
Stefanides then said : “You’re right – it will take too long and we’ll run out of time. But hey, we’re on the right track.”
Just then, the phone rang. Both of them looked at it.
“No-one knows I’m here except you....” said Ashby.
“It could be a threat that if you don’t back off.....”
“Let’s see, shall we ? Hello. Please, one moment.....Parakalo.....It’s a woman and she doesn’t speak English.”
Stefanides snatched the receiver and this time, spoke more softly than he did to the engineer’s wife. After the conversation ended, he put the receiver down, saying, “That was the wife of Nikos, the barman from the taverna. One of the numbers I rang was her mother’s. Anyway, they thought about your offer and she wants to meet us somewhere safe. They’ve been threatened. If the opposition find they’re talking to us, it could be curtains for them...”
“Now, we’re making progress,” said Ashby.
“I hate to say it but I think you’re wrong. I didn’t want to do it this way because now the opposition knows we’re in town and that we’re trying to buy their property from under their noses. And they’ll be ready for us. From this point onwards, we have to behave as if they’re tracking our every move – as if they’re just across the corridor. So, be ready for anything.”
Plantation A Legal Thriller Page 72
