A Terrible Beauty (27 page)

“There is no time for slow,” he said, immediately becoming once again agitated. “The man you seek, I have him. He is in the barn.”

“What man?” I asked. “The drawing I gave you is of the man recovering downstairs—”

“Yes, yes, Lady Kallista, but I have found the man who sent him to the ruins.”

“You have?” I had not dared hoped he would accomplish so much. Perhaps I had employed a certain genius in comparing him to the ancient heroes.

“Take us to him at once, my good man,” Philip said.

“Margaret, you come with me,” I said. “The rest of you stay here. I do not want to overwhelm him.”

Philip scowled. “If you think we shall stand by and let two unaccompanied ladies—”

I interrupted him. “Adelphos is more than capable of looking after us.” That settled the matter—as Philip was evidently coming around to the idea that it is best not to stand in my way—and Margaret and I followed Adelphos downstairs, pausing in the kitchen so he could tell us how he came to find his quarry. He explained that no one he queried knew the identity of the man in my drawing, but that a man who worked in the port at Oia admitted to having seen him arrive with a second stranger on a small fishing vessel two days before we spotted him at Thera. He could not speak as to the man's name or where he was from, and, unfortunately, the fishing boat that brought him to the island came from Cyprus, and had long since departed. He did not know the captain of the vessel. He did, however, point Adelphos to the boy who had guided the boat's passengers on donkeys from the pier to the village.

Adelphos convinced the boy—with a bribe for which I promised to reimburse him—to tell him the men's destination: a ramshackle house on the outskirts of Oia, a place long thought to be abandoned.

“And haunted,” Adelphos added. “It is well known to be haunted, but this did not daunt me. I went there without delay, ready to face whatever dangers my foe could hurl at me.”

I could almost picture him, bronze helmet covering his dark curls, sword in one hand, shield in the other. If only it were a different century!

“I watched from afar for a while, but there was no one in the vicinity, unless there was someone in the house.”

“And was there someone in the house?” Margaret asked.

“Of course. How else do you think I caught the man?” His face was flushed pleasantly from exertion; he almost glowed.

“I had rather hoped you pursued him to an ancient cave,” Margaret said, her voice taking on a dreamy quality. I knew she had formed as strong an image of Adelphos as ancient hero as I.

“Cave? No.” He shook his head, confused. “I did not go straightaway to the house and knock on the door, as I know this man to be bad because he sent someone to hurt Lord Ashton, so instead I approach the building from the rear, and I look through windows until I see him.”

“And then you charged him?” I asked. “Startling him into paralysis with a battle cry worthy of—”

“Achilles,” Margaret finished. “I realize you object on principle, Emily, but it is the most fitting image. Adelphos is Greek. You cannot make him Hector.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of Theseus slaying the Minotaur, if you must know,” I said.

“My ladies, please.” Adelphos grinned, enjoying our conversation. “It was not so difficult. He was sleeping. I climbed through the window and bound him with the rope I had brought with me. Just in case, you see.”

“He must have woken up?” I asked.

“Yes, and he was most displeased, but I had no trouble keeping him under control. I am a strong man, Lady Kallista. You maybe should think of Heracles.” He grinned again and motioned for us to follow him to the barn. There could be no doubt he was enjoying this immensely.

Once inside, I held up a lamp to illuminate the face of our prisoner, but saw only a dusty heap in the straw. Adelphos grunted at it. “If you want water you will sit up. And I know you want water.”

The heap started to move, squirming in a most inelegant attempt to do as Adelphos suggested. Adelphos grunted again and as he tugged at it, its robes fell away, revealing the man's face, the lips pulled to reveal a particularly unattractive set of brown, jagged teeth. Margaret and I turned to each other, immediately recognizing him as the burlier of the men we had spied on at Nea Kameni.

“What is your name?” I asked.

“You may call me Savas.” He spat the words.

“I do not have much Turkish,” I said, crossing my arms and sitting on a convenient barrel, “but I know that word means ‘war.' I do not suppose it is your real name, but that is of no consequence. I shall call you whatever you like.”

“You are clever so I shall tell you. I am Batur.”

“Thank you. What brings you to Santorini?”

“The view.”

I laughed, softly. “I like you, Batur. Adelphos, give him some water.” The Turk drank greedily when Adelphos lifted a cup to his mouth. “I am dealing with a great difficulty. Your … colleague, let us say, menaced a friend of mine at Ancient Thera some days back and was injured. As a caring woman, I of course wish to notify his family, as his condition is bleak.”

“I am aware of his condition. You think I did not track him to this house when he did not return as arranged?”

“So you skulked around and eavesdropped and decided he was too ill to be worth further bother?” I asked. “Or rather, too ill to wake up and cause you any difficulties?”

“He could not cause me any difficulties even if he does wake up. He knows nothing.”

“Ah, yes,” I said. “You come to the matter at hand. You, Batur, do know something, and you are going to tell it all to me.”

Now he laughed. “You are amusing. You think you come here, talk sweetly to me, give me water, and I will betray my master? You are naïve.”

“I know about Demir.”

“My lady, you do not,” he said. “That I will tell you, but nothing else.”

“I saw you at Nea Kameni with another man. I know what you have come for: the Achilles bronze. The object is not Ashton's, you know. It is mine and has been in my possession for some time. So you may call off your dogs. If you want to negotiate, I will not do so with you. I will deal only with Demir.” I paused, staring into his black eyes. “You may consider your options overnight. I will come to you in the morning.” I stood up tall and tossed my head as I turned away from him and stalked out of the barn.

“Do you think that was wise?” Margaret asked. “What if the second man on Nea Kameni was Demir and what if he is here and has followed his minion to the house?”

“Adelphos, did anyone follow you?” I asked.

“No, Lady Kallista. I am certain of it.”

“Well, then,” I said, the confidence in my voice masking the deep concern gnawing at my insides.

“He could be dangerous,” Margaret said.

“He certainly is, although I suspect it was Batur who shot at Philip and murdered poor Mr. Kallas, not Demir, who strikes me as the sort who leaves his dirty work to others.” I turned to Adelphos. “The barn is not secure enough to risk leaving him there overnight. Take him to the storeroom. It has only one small window and a sturdy door that can be locked. He will have to remain tied up, and do please make sure he cannot free himself.”

“I will see to it,” Adelphos said.

“Thank you, Adelphos,” I said. “You have done extremely well.”

“Like Heracles.” Pride beamed on his face and he gave us a little bow before heading back to the barn. Margaret and I watched him go.

“It is as if he stepped out of another millennium,” she said. “How is it I never noticed until now? He is—”

“A perfect classical hero. Yes.” We stood still, in silent appreciation, and then returned to the roof, where the gentlemen expressed their frustration at being able to see nothing of the scene but the roof of the barn.

“Well?” Jeremy demanded. “Tell us everything!”

“He would reveal nothing,” I said, “but we ought not be deterred. Jeremy, I need you to ride with me to Oia, to the house where Adelphos found him. I want to search it.”

“It is growing dark,” Philip said. “Wait until morning.”

“I will not risk it,” I said. “I know this island like the back of my hand and will be perfectly fine with Pyrois and a lantern.”

I saw Jeremy hesitate, only slightly, but then he rallied himself. “So long as you can promise me that there will be no young ladies there trying to shoot me, we shall have no trouble at all.”

“It is highly unlikely that a gentleman of your stature would be shot at by a young lady more than once in his life,” I said, sorry the circumstances had brought to mind his former fiancée's attack on him. A glance in Margaret's direction told me she wanted to come to Oia as well, but I did not think this a good idea. I pulled her downstairs and into my room, where I changed into clothing suitable for a long ride.

“You aren't going to leave me here?” she asked. “Is it because I reacted so badly to poor Mr. Kallas's death?”

“Not at all,” I said. “Philip, with his injury, is useless against attack. Furthermore, I am not altogether certain I trust him, and, hence, cannot be confident of Fritz's loyalties either. You and Adelphos will have to take charge of the house—”

“Along with Mrs. Katevatis.” Margaret grinned. “She is an ally worth a hundred gentlemen.”

“Yes,” I said. “Colin won't be much longer, and I am almost tempted to wait for him and leave Jeremy with you, but I fear time could be of the essence.”

“Is there any chance Demir could be in Oia?”

“No one reported to Adelphos having seen a third stranger. Batur and our unresponsive patient arrived on the island together. I would not be surprised if Demir, not having had any contact with one of his lackeys, reacts by either sending someone else or coming himself. I intend to sway the balance in a manner that will ensure he comes himself.”

“Do not take any risks,” she said. “Perhaps you should leave Jeremy and take Adelphos. He knows the island even better than you.”

“A fair point,” I said, “but he is also far more capable of managing our prisoner than Jeremy. Furthermore, I rather enjoy making the old boy do something useful. After all of this adventure he cannot possibly be anything but thoroughly distracted from the indignities heaped on him by Amity Wells.” I tightened the laces of my sturdiest boots, ones I could rely on to be suitable not only for riding but for running, should it become necessary. Though we would have lanterns, I also put candles and a tin of matches in one of my jacket pockets and a small notebook and pencil in another.

Before going downstairs to meet Jeremy, whom I assumed would take less time than I to prepare, I went onto the balcony, straining my eyes for any sign of Colin returning along the cliff path. Seeing none, I knew I could delay no longer. I bade Margaret farewell and sent her back to the roof terrace to keep an eye on Philip and Fritz.

Jeremy was leaning elegantly against the wall next to the front door, dressed in tweeds and holding a riding crop. “Pith helmet, Em, really?” he asked. “There is no sun now and there won't be any until morning.”

“I have seen too many people whacked over the head and am making an effort to avoid similar injuries,” I said, taking him by the arm and pulling him to the back of the house. “Come now, we shall have to fetch the horses from the stable ourselves.”

“Service falls utterly to pieces during your hideous investigations,” he said. “Truly it is an indignity not to be borne. I shall have words with Adelphos when this is all over.”

 

Philip

Santorini, 1897

No sooner had the volcanic landscape erupted with floral blooms than Reiner returned to the island, eager to check on his friend and prepare the site at Thera for another season of excavation. He had set off earlier than the rest of the archaeological party, wanting to see for himself that Philip had survived the winter unscathed by loneliness or a visit from Demir's henchmen.

“Truly, you are content here?” he asked. “I have brought you two more crates of books. I found everything you wanted except
Lady Audley's Secret
. It is not history, I assume?”

“No, far from it. Kallista read it on our wedding trip. It is the very worst sort of sensational novel, and tells a great deal about her character that she chose to bring it with her, do you not think?”

“I am afraid I cannot answer that, as I am not familiar with the story. Perhaps if I were to read it—”

“You would despise it.” Philip laughed. “Kallista did not care what impression it made, she only wanted to read what she wanted to read. I gave her a first edition of
Pride and Prejudice
soon thereafter. I wonder which she preferred?”

“I spoke to someone in Fira today when I arrived. He said she is coming to the villa at the end of the month. She likes to spend time here in the spring. The servants are already preparing the house.”

“How I wish I could see her, even from afar, but I cannot risk being spotted, not if I am to stay true to my oath to leave her undisturbed,” Philip said.

“If we found out exactly when she was due to arrive, we could watch from a distance after the ship docked. The road to Fira is long and steep, and you know how slowly the donkeys move. We could find a spot on the cliff path and you could catch a glimpse of her through a spyglass without any danger of being spotted. We could be off and away before she reached town.”

“It is tempting,” Philip said. “So very tempting. I shall consider it.”

If he were honest with himself, he knew even then there had never been anything to consider. He could not resist the temptation. And so, on the day she arrived—Reiner, drinking with some locals in a taverna in Fira, had no trouble ascertaining the date—they waited until a boat approached the dock far below where they stood on the cliff path. Philip trained his glass on it, and could see her, standing on the deck, her fair hair spilling from its pins and tumbling over her shoulders in the wind, her hat in her hand, and her husband close by her side. Philip watched as Hargreaves helped her onto the dock and then onto a waiting donkey. They were both smiling and laughing, as if they had not a care in the world.