Trick or Treat (27 page)

We did as he asked. He gathered his thoughts together and began to speak, and I made notes as unobtrusively as I could. But after a while I don’t think he noticed me at all, or Daniel, or the old body he was trapped in. He was back in 1943, a twenty year old sailor, presented by the Nazi administrator of Salonika with an offer he couldn’t refuse.

‘I had been smuggling them out for months,’ he said. ‘Those that wanted to go to Palestine. We got them into boats and off to Turkey. Though the U-boats got some and the English got others, most of them landed safe. I already had enough money, deposited in the bank in the Great Bazaar, to prosper if I ran, and I was going to run, taking the last boat myself, for what we were doing in Thessaloniki was filthy, not a fair war, just theft and murder. But I let greed rule me.

I waited for one more journey. A fatal error; I never made it again, not in my whole life. Also there was a girl—you understand?’

Daniel nodded. We understood.

‘Mertens, he came to me and said, I know about your treason—he called it treason—to the Fatherland, to Herr Hitler, to Germany. I will denounce you to the Gestapo unless you find me a boat, have it loaded in secret, and take me away. You have five nights until the dark of the moon. I sweated to find that boat! He gave me money to buy her and finally I found one I could handle with only a couple of hands. I warned my network and we never saw each other again. But with me I took my girl, dressed as a boy in overalls and cap, and my brother Hans. I had plans which Max Mertens knew nothing of. He sent slaves to load the boat—I called her
Pandora
—and we left in the dark of the moon and slipped out of Salonika like a ghost ship.’

Nurse Simmonds came in at this moment escorting a tea trolley. She flapped a huge white napkin and it settled on Herr Schwartz like a bedsheet. Then she poured his tea, strong Indian tea with a lot of milk and sugar, and indicated to me that I could be mother for Daniel and myself. The plate on the old man’s tray contained crisp ginger biscuits. Not general nursing home issue. This was a high class establishment.

‘I learned to drink tea like this in Australia,’ commented Herr Schwartz when he had sipped his cup empty and eaten two biscuits. ‘On the Snowy River. It was a great enterprise, now forgotten. I only hope that men shall forget our wicked deeds as fast as they forget our good ones.’

‘You will be forgiven,’ said Daniel gently. ‘The people who escaped to Palestine have not forgotten you.’

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The old man made a pleased grunt. I took his cup and dusted him with the napkin. He patted my hand.

‘Hmm! If God is good. Where was I? I am old, I forget.’

‘Mertens’ treasure,’ I prompted. ‘You took the
Pandora
out of Salonika harbour in the dark of the moon.’

‘So we did,’ he said, tapping his fingers on the binoculars. ‘It seemed to be fated to be a good journey. We flew down the coast of Greece with a fine fast wind behind us, not stopping for five days. I still did not know where Mertens meant to go. He did not speak to me, except to give me orders. And we were busy with the ship, there being only three of us. She was heavy, too, being ballasted with gold coins. They shift sometimes. He might have been heading for Italy, though that would be strange as it was held by Germany. Bari, perhaps. Lawless place. Anyway, his plan was to go almost to Crete and then across and up the west coast of Greece, and that was as far as I understood. So we did as he ordered. The seas were calm but the moon was ever waxing and we could only travel at night. I never knew why he had no forged papers. Papers were easy enough to come by in Salonika. I could have made him a nice set myself, if he had asked.’

The old man chuckled. His pale blue eyes were twinkling. I could understand a girl deciding to run away with him, even if it meant dressing in overalls and cap and working as a deckhand.

‘But our luck ran out, as luck always does.
Ja
, it ran out.’ He sighed. ‘We were off the bay of Messinia when an English submarine saw us, rose and challenged us in Greek. I couldn’t speak Greek, neither could Mary, she was Turkish. Mertens was below, asleep. So they attacked. We fled.
Pandora
was between two low islands when the torpedo got her and we were all plunged into the sea. Luckily we were blown clean out of the boat, not trapped and sunk inside, and the English boat picked me up, and Mary and Hans, and took us to Alex to a prisoner-of-war camp. It wasn’t too bad. They freed Mary after the Turks vouched for her and they let Hans and me loose in the town once they found we were not Nazis. I decided that the destiny of the world was in England and America and therefore I learned English. Hans was homesick and couldn’t concentrate. And Mary and I...’

‘Married?’ I asked. He gave me a sad smile.

‘She found she could not leave Turkey,’ he said. ‘Or her family. She went back, when they allowed her. Then the war was over, the world sane again, and I went to Australia and worked on the Snowy River scheme. That was a great work. That taught me about water, and I became a hydraulic engineer with the money I collected from the Istanbul bank. I married, I had children, I had a good life. I grew old and came here after my wife died. They look after me and I like being looked after, and I watch the birds. And all that time, all that time, I never knew that Max Mertens survived the wreck. I thought him sunk and drowned in the remains of the boat.’

‘
Zo
,’ said Daniel, and he told Herr Schwartz how Mertens’ story had continued.

‘He came back looking for it?’ swore Helmut Schwartz. ‘The villain! But he did not find it?’

‘No,’ said Daniel. ‘He went back to Germany, became a lawyer, and died in 1976.’

‘And all the time he knew that a fortune lay under the waves and he had to work for his living like all of us. Oh, that is nice,’ said the old man appreciatively. ‘That is a very good joke.’

‘So, can you tell me where the
Pandora
went down?’

‘Certainly. Between the islands of Schiza and Sapientza, at

233

the outflow of the bay of Messinia. Nearest sighting mark was a little Venetian castro on the shore and the big rock shaped like a dragon, streaked white by the seabirds. There you will find the wreck of
Pandora
, if the sea hasn’t eaten her altogether. That bay is carpeted with wrecks. The Turkish fleet were sunk there by the British in 1834. And they say even Roman ships are there. It is dangerous water. I am tired. Have I told you what you need to know?’

‘
Ja
,’ said Daniel. ‘
Besten dank
, Herr Schwartz. Here is a little present from those who sent me.’

He unwrapped a bottle. ‘Schnapps,’ said the old man. ‘And my favourite brand. You will give my fond regards to Saba? Now, can you wheel me back to the window? They throw out the bread from tea, and the birds come down for it. Don’t look sad, lovely lady,’ he said to me as he picked up his binoculars and began to focus them. ‘I am so old now that I have only one question left, apart from the eternal one.’

‘What is that?’ I asked, dropping a kiss on his cheek.

‘Why do wattlebirds hate pigeons?’ he said, and chuckled.

Timbo had cleared the picnic and was sitting on the kerb, smoking a Winfield and, simply by his presence, bringing down the property value of the whole neighbourhood. We got into the car. I handed over my notebook.

‘The boat sank,’ I said, ‘in what sounds like an inaccessible place, and in the dark. How could anyone find it again?’

‘Ah, there’s the mystery,’ said Daniel. ‘What’s more, that island is used by the Greek navy to test weapons, so no one is allowed near it. Poor Mertens, sitting in his law office and slaving away, how he must have hated knowing that all that gold was just lying there and he dared not try to get it, or send anyone, because no one can sneak in under a bombardment to do a bit of illegal diving.’

‘But he must have tried. He could have blackmailed someone, that’s what he did with Helmut Schwartz.’

‘Ah,’ said Daniel, ‘but even if he did, he could not trust them to come home with the bikkies. Too perilous. That ship was carrying about four million pounds sterling worth of treasure. In 1943 prices.’

‘Served him right,’ I said.

‘A good joke,’ agreed Daniel.

We went back to Insula in silence. We had a lot to think about. And when we got there, who was waiting for us but Georgiana Hope, in a camel and dark brown ensemble the cost of which might have given Mertens’ treasure a run for its money.

‘I need to speak to you,’ she said.

To me. Not to Daniel. I did not want to let her into my house. Some sort of instinctive revulsion. Heavenly Pleasures had recently added a few pavement tables to their set-up, where they served hot chocolate of the gods. I led her there and we sat down.

‘I want you to sell me your bakery,’ she said.

I ordered hot chocolate for three from the apprentice and tried not to gape. George’s hair dye had obviously damaged her brain.

‘No,’ I said. ‘How much more clear can I be?’

‘But consider,’ she urged. ‘This quarantine will have destroyed your niche customers. Being shut for this length of time, they’ll find bread elsewhere as good as yours. And they won’t come back. A poisoning scare lasts for ages.’

‘George!’ remonstrated Daniel. She gave him a full-face one thousand watt smile. Which had no effect on him, I was pleased to note.

‘Sorry, Danny, but I’m telling the truth. They call this a commercial reality. You’ll need to start again and you’ll need capital, even if you don’t go to jail. So, what do you say, take up my offer?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘I might add, no, no, never. Not ever. You will get your hands on Earthly Delights only if I and all my heirs are dead. No.’

‘She means it,’ said Daniel. ‘Drink your chocolate and

23
5

digest your spleen, George. You are not going to get Earthly Delights. Why do you want it so badly?’

Georgiana stared at him. For a moment, she had no words. ‘A . . . fancy,’ she said at last. ‘Just a fancy. I’m at the Hilton, if you come to your senses,’ she added. She got up and walked away.

Daniel and I shared the extra cup of chocolate between us. It does not do to waste food.

‘That was strange,’ I said.

‘Come to your senses? Where does she get off saying things like that?’ fumed Daniel. ‘The woman’s lost her marbles. At least she’s moved out of my flat.’

‘She did make you buy a set of real plates and clean the windows,’ I comforted him. Hot chocolate has a mellowing effect on my temper.

‘There’s that, I suppose.’

‘Why does she want Earthly Delights so much?’ I wondered aloud.

‘Because it’s yours? And she can’t have me?’ guessed Daniel. ‘Because I’m yours, as well?’

‘Are you?’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Daniel with the rich satisfaction I always associate with sunshine and peace and chocolate. I took his hand. The gash on the back had almost healed.

‘Well, Sherlock, what now?’

‘There’s my elderly Greek,’ he said.

‘And here’s my colleague,’ I told him, seeing Vin Wyatt wavering along the lane.

‘He doesn’t look well,’ commented Daniel.

‘Better than this morning. Then again, dead would be better than he looked this morning. Hello, Vincent. How do you feel?’

237

‘Better than I deserve,’ he said ruefully. ‘Can you do me a favour, Corinna? A couple of favours. The cops say I can’t leave the flat, they’ll need to talk to me again. I must contact my workers. Poor buggers. Janelle and Eddie. Can you do it for me? Only I don’t want them to feel that I’m ditching them. I’ll think of something for them. A good reference at least.’

‘I might,’ I said, deeply conscious of Vin’s business being ruined and mine rescued. ‘Can’t you phone?’

‘No one’s answering. Eddie’s just in Abbotsford, you might drop over there? Janelle’s in Carlton. Here’re the addresses. Just give them this note from me and tell them not to worry, it isn’t their fault.’

‘All right,’ I said, catching Daniel’s nod. If he wanted us to do this we could do it easily enough. ‘I’ll get around to it today. You drink some more water, Vincent, and get some rest. I’ll let you know how I go.’

‘Thanks,’ he said. Clutching his forehead, he staggered away. You don’t spring back from a three-day drunk on one Berocca and half a night’s sleep.

‘Shall I summon Timbo again?’

‘After a nap,’ I said, sliding a hand down his arm to his wrist. ‘I think we could do with a siesta.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Daniel, and followed me like a lamb.

We woke at about two, slowly and lazily. So lovely, so very lovely, my beautiful Daniel. I stretched in complete luxury. And kissed him again, just because I could.

We rose and dressed slowly, relishing the feeling of being thoroughly loved. I was never going to get used to this. I said so, locating my knickers where I had flung them over the mirror.

‘Me neither. I keep wondering if I made you up,’ he confessed, donning a sock. Daniel can make putting on socks sexy. Which probably says something about my blissed-out state of mind. ‘Then you astonish me and I know you’re real,’ he added.

If he went on like this I would have to tear his socks off again and we had work to do. I contented myself with kissing his bared shoulder and then his ear, which reminded me of Meroe biting Barnabas. Why had she bitten him? Just right
eous Rumanian rage, or was there some magical reason? I offered this question to Daniel.

‘Isn’t there something about scoring a witch above the breath? And if you have to draw blood with your teeth, an ear is a good place to bite. Human teeth aren’t very sharp,’ he said, pulling on trousers and then shirt, dammit. ‘It’s quite hard to draw blood. Mostly you just bruise.’

‘I almost don’t want to know how you know that.’

‘But you do want to know?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘I’ve been in my share of pub fights, but the reason I know about drawing blood was an art installation in London many years ago. There were things which had to be done in order: cough, smile, laugh, urinate, dance—you know the sort of thing. It was very popular, active art. One of the instructions was “Bite a friend. Until there is blood”. It was a Mistress Dread moment, or meant to be. But the artist—’