The Tomb of Zeus (31 page)

Letty was aghast. The thought of Olivia leaping from the wisteria crying, “Aha! Unhand my husband!” or whatever people shout in these circumstances, was horrifying.

“I felt the bonnet of the car. The engine had cooled. So—they hadn't, at least, stopped en route for a little hanky-panky, I calculated. They must be still up there in her room.” She paused, pleased with her insight and waiting for this to be acknowledged by the inspector. Mariani had the good grace to nod in understanding. “I went into the courtyard and listened under Phoebe's window. I knew where it was, of course—she called herself my friend—she'd treated me to the tour of her vast wardrobe, even generously selected a few items she thought might suit me.”

The grating resentment in the older woman's voice was beginning to chill Letty.

“I tell you this because, with your ear for backstairs gossip, Inspector, you will have little difficulty in establishing that I was familiar with the first-floor rooms.

“There was no sound. I must say I felt very exposed there in the garden. Windows on all sides, it's hardly the place you'd choose to skulk unseen. Like being onstage. The tree was inviting and I would have given much to catch the treacherous harlot at her games, but I didn't. She betrayed me! I'm not sorry she's dead. But I didn't kill her. I went away the way I'd come.”

“Tell me, Mrs. Stoddart, what brought about this change of heart?”

“Not what—
who!
I was accosted in the courtyard—staring up at the window, assessing my chances—by that ruffian who seems to have appointed himself family guard dog. The big Cretan who's so close to George and William Gunning.”

“Aristidis, you mean?” Letty broke her silence again.

“That's the one! Lout! He came swaggering through the coach house, bold as brass, whistling, plonked himself down on the statue of Dionysos—whom he much resembles—in the middle of the courtyard, and lit a cigarette. Waiting to see Gunning and Miss Talbot, he said, when I challenged him. Business to discuss. Been waiting all morning. Then, having given an account of himself, it occurred to him to wonder what
I
was doing there. He's not stupid. And, as I say, loyal to the family. He became uneasy with my presence and escorted me off the premises, practically growling. What cheek! So—if you want further and better particulars, Inspector, you must interview your disreputable compatriot. If he's in a mood not to lie to the forces of law and order, he will tell you I left the villa at two thirty-five—or five cigarettes after the noon bell of St. Minas sounded.”

Mariani made the mistake of catching Letty's eye and was ambushed by his Cretan sense of the ridiculous. His shoulders began to shake. He pulled out a handkerchief and spluttered into it. He pretended to take notes. He was lost for words.

Letty sighed. “If I weren't already up to my ears in love, this man would be in some danger,” she thought. She decided to step into the gap. “Ollie! This is quite disgraceful behaviour! You should have confided in the inspector earlier. You have cost him a week's work. Really! You are much to blame. If I were you, I'd apologise to Inspector Mariani for wasting his time and injuring his officer, and then go straight home to Harry and beg his forgiveness.”

A clamour at the door was seized upon by Mariani as his release. The inspector shot to his feet and went to open up. Stoddart bustled in, come to collect his wife. “Mr. Gunning's on his way, Laetitia,” he informed her as Olivia swept in glacial silence from the cell. “I say, would you like me to wait until he gets here?” he asked, casting a reproving look at the inspector.

Letty made a show of getting to her feet and collecting her things together, declining his offer. Kind but quite unnecessary.

As soon as the Stoddarts had left, Letty sat down again and began to speak urgently. “I was trying to find you for most of the afternoon! I thought I wasn't going to be able to see you before tomorrow. Listen! I've found out a thing or two—bribery still works well, I discover, in the Levant! I'm just surprised you weren't called on to come and arrest me at the port this afternoon! One official got quite suspicious. Anyway—there are things that simply ought to be clarified. And I think you're the man who can do this. I've got as far as I can without a quantity of gold braid on my shoulder. You will have to take it further. Now…”

Gunning arrived to find them sitting in the cell, heads together, still deep in conversation. “I trust my niece has behaved herself,” he drawled sarcastically.

“Impeccably as always.” Mariani was gracious. “A fruitful interview…which exculpates Mrs. Stoddart from any involvement and sets me on another trail.”

“Another trail?” said Gunning as they made their way back to the Europa. “Now who's he got in his sights?”

“Aristidis! Ollie found him loitering—or rather
he
caught
her,
loitering with intent—in the courtyard at the crucial time. He may have seen something. Those eagle eyes of his don't miss much. He was quickly onto Ollie and saw her off the premises. But at least his word should cancel out any remaining suspicion of Olivia's involvement.”

“Thank God for that! Was she intending to do bodily harm to Phoebe and/or Harry or just scare them to death, I wonder?”

“Hard to say. She probably didn't even know herself. But she has a terrible temper. Remember the mess in Harry's surgery? And people do extraordinary things for love. She was in love with her, you know. In love with Phoebe.”

“I had guessed as much,” said Gunning quietly. “Poor old Ollie!”

“Poor old Harry!”

D
o you know—I've never viewed the scene of the crime—if crime it was—from the courtyard,” said Letty as they approached the Europa. “It's not quite dark yet and the rooms are ablaze with light. Shall we?”

“You're just determined to lure me off somewhere secluded.” “Well, yes, I'm sure you're dying to get back to the party, but I thought I'd try for just a little longer by ourselves. Hold your hand. So often wanted to. Let's not go back inside, just yet?”

They made their way through the coach house, where nothing but a patch of oil marked the place where the Bugatti had gleamed. Theodore's modest Ford took up very little space at the far end. They tiptoed through the fusty darkness, steering by the moon showing through the fanlight over the side door, and let themselves out into the lemon-scented garden.

“Now, let's be Ollie and Aristidis. Odd pairing! I'll go and sigh and fume up at the window and you swagger in and sit down, there, on Dionysos.”

Letty sighed and Gunning swaggered. He lit a cigarette and then caught sight of Letty, who turned and advanced on him, mouthing a challenge.

Gunning laughed and moved over to join her. “Well, yes. I can see why Aristidis would have been a little spooked. You do look as though you're lurking with some intent or other. And she would have held back from blasting him with her usual halloo. That would have puzzled him. He wouldn't be accustomed to the sight of Olivia about the place in the rear quarters in the daytime, anyway. She's definitely what you'd call front door calling company. What's more, knowing her and the state she was in, I expect she hissed something quite offensive to Aristidis. It's not like him to be brusque with women. Anyhow—Mariani will interview him now in greater depth and sort it all out, man to man, Cretan to Cretan.”

“Do you think we should warn Aristidis he's about to have the spotlight shone up his nose?”

“Oh, I don't think so. They'll probably have a good laugh at Olivia's expense. But Mariani will want to know—I imagine—who else Aristidis noticed coming or going or standing still around the same time. If we think about it—he could have been right here when poor Phoebe was dying up in her room. Did he leave after shooing Olivia away or did he return? Either way, he may have seen something significant and not even be aware of it. Time—it has an elasticity and an unregimented character for Cretans. He might not have realised there was something going on.”

Letty shivered and clutched her cashmere wrap more closely around her shoulders. She was responding not only to the sudden chill whisper of a breeze that set the leaves trembling but to the deeper atmosphere of the place. She caught the leering eye of the stone Dionysos, wide-mouthed, wild-haired, and malignant. Sympathetic to the drunken character of its subject, the slablike statue leaned slightly to one side. Gunning went to perch on it and Letty pulled him away, scarcely knowing why she did so.

“Had enough of this ghost of a garden?”

“Garden? I'd hardly call it a garden! All this coy statuary! It's more like my aunt Joan's pets' cemetery. Or a mausoleum. There's something so posed…so mad about it all. I can almost hear someone laughing to see us standing about. Is there some sort of message we ought to be picking up?”

She pointed to the marble Artemis, unseen apart from her left toe and her gilded arrowhead. “The Virgin Huntress would appear to be about to shoot dead the Goddess of Love. She, silly creature, is mesmerised by her own image and is completely unaware of the ambush from behind the laurel. The whole tableau is a murder frozen in stone.”

“And who's having the last laugh?” Gunning joined in her speculation. “Ghastly old Dionysos!” He gave the bristling stone head a friendly pat. “Mad as a hatter? Under the influence of something stronger than the grape? Whatever his problem, you can see, he plainly hates both ‘wimmin,’ as old Theo might say.”

“Well, I'm not comfortable here.” Letty shivered again. “Even Ollie was uneasy, but then, she had retribution on her mind at the time. I feel…things?…people?…crowding round, tugging at me for my attention. ‘It's a blood-soaked soil,’ George told me. And, standing here, you can imagine the ‘dead, ten deep, clutching at our ankles.’ Only one thing to loosen their ancient grip—action! I'm going to climb that tree!” On impulse, she kicked off her shoes and handed her wrap to Gunning. She walked to the foot of the writhing wisteria and began to haul herself upwards.

“Letty! Come down at once! You'll ruin your folderols! You'll be found hanging by your pearls in the morning! They'll drag me off in irons!” He paced about, anxiously, arms extended to break her fall, talking nervous nonsense, expecting her to crash to the ground at any moment, but she jumped back down five minutes later, hardly out of breath. “You were right, William. As trees go— that's the nursery slopes. It's been constantly trimmed back at the top. It's grown outwards and upwards into a cup shape so it frames the window prettily, but it also makes a stable place to sit while you're planning your next move. Ideal spot for a Peeping Tom.”

“No such thing on the island.”

“Or an assassin.”

“Ah. Not short of those. But who from the outside would want to kill Phoebe?”

“We've been thinking about this from the wrong angle. We ought to have asked first—
Who knew she was there?
Remember she came back unexpectedly early. We weren't due back until teatime or later.”

“Apart from the Stoddarts, Eleni knew. She let them in. The only member of the household who was at home was Theo himself.”

“Sleeping on the other side of the unlocked door,” said Letty.

“Ah, we've come full circle! You've always fancied Theo for this.”

“He had reason to kill her—profit, anger, and revenge (if he'd discovered what she was up to) and he has the brute strength and coldness of heart to carry it through. But…”

“Something's bothering you, Letty?”

“I was just wondering. If Aristidis came back and heard something—a quarrel, Phoebe screaming, Theo bellowing—he'd have confided in you, wouldn't he, William?”

Gunning was silent for a moment. “I honestly think he would. But more than that—you know the man well by now. If he thought a woman was in danger—from a snake or her husband—he'd intervene. In fact, he'd relish the chance to knock Theo to the ground with justification. He was, like the rest of us, fond of Phoebe. He wouldn't have stood by and let her die.” He had caught Letty's anxiety and added, “Look, we'll be seeing him again on Tuesday morning when we've got over all this funeral business. I doubt Mariani will have got to him by then, as he's turning up on parade at the funeral tomorrow. We'll ask Aristidis to come and see us at his mother's house before we start work, shall we? Clear the air? Now, come on back inside and help me to get through this ghastly evening, will you? But, first, let's give the jealous shades a reminder of what they're missing in the way of fleshly comfort up here in the world above.”

He pulled her into a close embrace from which she emerged some minutes later warm, breathless, and dishevelled. Even Dionysos, she thought, was looking slightly aghast.

“Coffee!” announced Maria comfortably. “If we're all going to sit around the table having a serious discussion about Kyrie Russell, we'll need some more to fortify ourselves! I'll put the pot on again.”

Aristidis flung an indulgent glance at his mother as she slipped away to busy herself at the kitchen range. “Do you mind if she stays?” he whispered. “There are things only she knows about this affair and you will find what she has to say interesting.”

Puzzled, they both nodded.

“Now,” he went on, “you're warning me that I am to be questioned by Mariani and his men? Well, that's fine by me,” he said cheerfully. “The innocent need fear nothing, I'm sure. I have the greatest regard for the inspector's ability to get at the truth. He's well respected on the island. I shall endeavour to assist him.”

“If I were him, I'd start by wanting to know exactly why you were in the courtyard at the time in question, Aristidis,” said Gunning. “Do you have any objection to telling us?”

“None at all! Though as my mother is intimately concerned with my motives and my movements on that day, I will leave an explanation until she arrives with our coffee. But while we're waiting, I will tell you, because I see you are both suffering the torments of curiosity, what I was doing in the courtyard. I was there under the window for one purpose only on that day. I had come to kill Theodore Russell.”

Gunning's voice was commendably matter-of-fact: “Ah. Here comes a pot of the best Greek coffee! Maria, that smells delicious! We were just hearing your son admitting to a desire to eliminate his employer. I have to say—we've all been tempted.”

Maria poured with a steady hand and handed out the tiny cups. “For once he is not joking, Kyrie William. But you must forgive him; it was not his choice. He was sent by someone else to wreak vengeance on this monster for a crime committed by him many years ago.
I
sent my son to kill him.”

She moved to the sideboard and selected the sepia photograph of her dead husband. “I will place him here with us while we talk.”

The silver-framed photograph joined them, a fifth person at the table, smiling and handsome. Fez at a jaunty angle, bristling Cretan features fearless and challenging, the man's strong presence leapt the gap of thirty years.

“This is all about Ioannis. I told you, miss, that he died in the revolt of 1898. True. An unjust and violent death,” Maria began her story.

“We were trapped in the city in Candia, that hot August. And worse, trapped in the Greek quarter. We'd gone to a family funeral, in our country ignorance, with our country ways, not realising just how quickly and violently a killing spree can be unleashed in a densely packed city. It took all of us by surprise, not least the Turkish cousins who found themselves trapped with us. The last place anyone would want to be. We Christians were outnumbered by ten to one. The violence started, the burnings, the killings, the rapes and pillage. Ioannis decided the only thing for it was for me and Aristidis to try to escape dressed as Muslims. Word came that Muslim women and their children were being allowed to run away into the country through the gates, unchallenged. Our cousins, anxious not to be caught harbouring Greeks, put their hands on some female robes and veils and, though he would have preferred to stay and fight alongside his father, we managed to persuade Aristidis, who was only ten at the time, to put on a little girl's garments and try for it.”

Aristidis took up the tale. “The big gates were in sight and were standing open. I peered round the corner, huddled at my mother's side, clutching a fold of her robe, as I'd been told…” he remembered.

* * *

“…I know my mother saw him one more time but she has never spoken to me of it,” he finished with a tender and beseeching look for Maria. “And I wonder if she is ready to tell me now?”

“Ioannis went off to speak up for his cousin. He was a lawyer, fluent in Greek, Turkish, and Italian. But none of these got him very far with the people he had to deal with: the British. They had come in and taken control of the city. Killing, except for their authorised executions, had ceased. But they had a crime to avenge. Seventeen of their soldiers had been massacred by a Turkish mob and they intended to round up the ringleaders and ceremonially execute them. The same number were to hang from the tree the Turks used. Sending a message.

“Suleiman was arrested. I don't even know if he was guilty. Ioannis arrived to plead for him and was shown into the presence of the British officer deputed to deal with the problem. Ioannis was wearing a fez. Many Christians did. Many Christians were actually converts to Mohammedanism—to evade the extortionate taxes—but they still prayed in church every Sunday. It was a confused time. And one cannot wonder too much that the British themselves were confused. But the young officer, taking Ioannis for a Muslim and an argumentative one at that, though he did not understand a word he said, ordered his immediate arrest. He had reached sixteen suspects in number and needed one more for the execution to take place. My husband became the seventeenth prisoner.

“I went at once to plead for my husband. I was met with indifference and annoyance by the officer. I was not allowed to see Ioannis. He ordered his men to throw me out.

“But yes, I did see my husband one more time. Dangling from the plane tree.” Maria's tale ground to a half. She turned to her son, her eyes pleading and apologetic.

“My mother fled the town and would never return until a month ago.” Aristidis snatched the tale from his mother, sensing that her courage was losing the struggle with grief. “I persuaded her to go in to my cousin's wedding. The town was much changed. I thought she would have no bad memories after all this time. But she had the worst possible reminder. Outside the church, she saw and recognised the officer who had ordered my father's death. It was Theodore Russell, walking by with his wife. A respected member of society and—my employer. I had no idea. All these years I had worked for the man who killed my father.”

“It is a son's duty to avenge his father.” Maria's head went up, full of pride. “It is expected. It is necessary, if he is to keep his honour and that of his family. If he continues to fail to do it, I shall complete the circle myself. I shall make this snake eat its tail.”