There was one more thing to do. Catherine Alexander's life was in danger. She had to be warned. It was someone from the delegation that had had dinner at the house. You won't see her again. I've sent someone to get rid of her. Melina placed a call to her husband's offices in London 'Is there a Catherine Alexander working there?' 'She's not in at the moment. Can anyone else help you?' Melina hesitated. Her message was too urgent to trust to just anyone. But she would have no time to call back. She remembered Costa mentioning a Wim Vandeen, a genius in the office 'Could I speak with Mr Vandeen, please?' 'Just a moment.' A man's voice came on the line. 'Hello.' She could barely understand him 'I have a message for Catherine Alexander. It's very important Would you see that she gets it, please?' 'Catherine Alexander.' 'Yes. Tell her tell her that her life is in danger. Someone is going to try to kill her. I think it could be one of the men who came from Athens.' 'Athens ...
'Yes.' 'Athens has a population of eight hundred six thousand .
.' Melina could not seem to make the man understand. She hung up the phone. She had tried her best.
Wim sat at his desk, digesting the telephone conversation. Someone is going to try to kill Catherine. A hundred and fourteen murders were committed in England this year, Catherine will make it a hundred and fifteen. One of the men who came from Athens. Jerry Haley. Yves Renard. Dino Mattusi. One of them is going to kill Catherine. Wim's computer mind instantly fed him all the data on the three men. / think I know which one it is When Catherine returned later, Wim said nothing to her about the phone call He was curious to see if he was right.
Catherine was out with a different member of the delegation every evening, and when she came to work each morning, Wim p was there, waiting. He seemed disappointed to see her. When is she going to let him do it? Wim wondered. Maybe he should tell her about the telephone message. But that would be cheating. It wouldn't be fair to change the odds.
The drive to the beach house took an hour of actual time and twenty years of memories. There was so much for Melina to think about, so much to recall. Costa, young and handsome, saying, Surely you've been sent from the heavens to teach us mortals what beauty is. You're beyond flattery. Nothing I could say would do you justice . . . The wonderful cruises on their yacht and idyllic vacations on Psara . . . The days of lovely surprise gifts and the nights of wild love-making. And then the miscarriage, and the string of mistresses, and the affair with Noelle Page. And the beatings and public humiliations. Koritsion! You have nothing to live for, he had said. Why don't you kill yourself? And, finally, the threat to destroy Spyros That was what, in the end, Melina was unable to bear.
When Melina arrived at the beach house, it was deserted. The sky was cloudy, and there was a chill wind blowing from the sea. An omen, she thought She walked into the comforting, friendly house and looked around for the last time Then she began to overturn furniture and smash lamps. She ripped off her dress and let it fall to the floor. She took out the card from the detective agency and placed it on a table. She lifted the rug and put the gold button under it. Next she took off the gold wristwatch that Costa had given her and smashed it against the table She picked up her husband's swim trunks that she had taken from the house and carried them out to the beach. She wet them in the water, and returned to the house. Finally, there was only one thing left to do. It's time, she thought. She took a deep breath and slowly picked up the butcher knife and unwrapped it, careful not to disturb the tissue paper that covered the handle Melina held it in her hand, staring at it. This was the crucial part. She had to stab herself hard enough to make it look like murder, and at the same time have enough strength left to carry out the rest of her plan She closed her eyes, and plunged the knife deep into her side The pain was excruciating. Blood began to pour out. Melina held the wet bathing trunks to her side, and when they were covered with blood she walked over to a closet and shoved them in the back. She was beginning to feel dizzy. She looked around to make sure she had not missed anything, then she stumbled toward the door that led to the beach, her blood staining the carpet a bright crimson She moved toward the ocean. The blood was coming out faster now, and she thought, I'm not going to make it. Costa is going to win. I mustn't let him The walk to the ocean seemed to take forever. One more step, she thought. One more step She kept walking, fighting the dizziness that engulfed her. Her vision was beginning to blur. She fell to her knees. I mustn't stop now. She rose and kept walking until she felt the cold water lapping at her feet When the salt water hit her wound, she screamed aloud with the unbearable pain. I'm doing it for Spyros, she thought. Dear Spyros In the distance she could see a low cloud hovering over the horizon. She began to swim toward it, trailing a stream of blood And a miracle happened. The cloud came down to her, and she could feel its white softness enveloping her, bathing her, caressing her. The pain was gone now, and she felt a wonderful feeling of peace steal over her I'm going home, Melina thought happily. I'm going home at last.
I'm placing you under arrest for the murder of your wife. After that, everything seemed to happen in slow motion. He was booked, and fingerprinted again. He had his picture taken, and was placed in a prison cell. It was unbelievable that they would dare do this to him 'Get me Peter Demonides. Tell him I want to see him right now.' 'Mr Demonides has been relieved of his duties. He's under investigation.' So there was no one to turn to. I'll get out of this, he thought. I'm Constantin Demiris He sent for the Special Prosecutor Delma arrived at the prison one hour later. 'You asked to see me?' 'Yes,' Demiris said. 'I understand you've established the time of my wife's death at three o'clock.' 'That is correct.' Then before you embarrass yourself and the police department any further, I can prove that I was nowhere near the beach house at that hour yesterday.' 'You can prove that?' 'Of course. I have a witness.'
They were seated in the Police Commissioner's office when Spyros Lambrou arrived. Demiris' face lit up when he saw him 'Spyros, thank God you're here! These idiots think I murdered Melina. You know I couldn't have. Tell them.' Spyros Lambrou frowned. Tell them what?' 'Melina was killed at three o'clock yesterday afternoon. You *' and I were together at Aero-Corinth at three o'clock. I couldn't have driven back to the beach house before seven. Tell them about our meeting.' Spyros Lambrou was staring at him. 'What meeting?' The blood began to drain from Demiris' face. "The ... the meeting you and I had yesterday. At the lodge at Acrocorinth.' 'You must be confused, Costa. I was out driving alone yesterday afternoon. I'm not going to lie for you.' Constantin Demiris' face filled with rage. 'You can't do this!' He grabbed the lapels of Lambrou's jacket. 'Tell them the truth.' Spyros Lambrou pushed him away. 'The truth is that my sister is dead and you murdered her.' 'Liar!' Demiris screamed. 'Liar!' He started toward Lambrou again and it took two policemen to restrain him 'You son-of-a-bitch. You kriow I'm innocent!' 'The judges will decide that. I think you need a good lawyer.' And Constantin Demiris realized that there was only one man who could have saved him. Napoleon Chotas CONFIDENTIAL FILE TRANSCRIPT OF SESSION WITH CATHERINE DOUGLAS
C: Do you believe in premonitions, Alan A: They're not scientifically accepted, but as a matter of fact, I do. Have you been having premonitions? C: Yes. I I have the feeling that something terrible is going to happen to me A: Is this part of your old dream C: No. I told you that Mr Demiris sent some men in from Athens . . . A: Yes C: He asked me to look after them, so I've been seeing quite a bit of them A: Do you feel threatened by them C: No. Not exactly. It's difficult to explain. They haven't done anything, and yet I -1 keep expecting something to happen. Something awful. Does that make any sense to you A: Tell me about the men C: There's a Frenchman, Yves Renard. He insists that we go to museums but when we get there, I can see that he's not interested. He asked me to take him to Stonehenge this Saturday. There's Jerry Haley. He's an American. He seems pleasant enough, but there's something disturbing about him. Then there's Dino Mattusi. He's supposed to be an executive with Mr Demiris' company, but he asks a lot of questions that he should have the answers to. He invited me to go for a drive. I thought I would take Wim along .
And that's something else. A: Yes C: Wim has been acting strangely. A: In what way C: When I come into the office in the morning, Wim is always waiting for me. He never used to. And when he sees me, it's almost as though he's angry that I'm there. None of this makes much sense, does it A: Everything makes sense once you have the key, Catherine Have you had any more dreams C: I had a dream about Constantin Demiris. It's very vague A: Tell me what you remember of it C: I asked him why he was being so kind to me, why he gave me the job here and a place to live. And why he gave me the gold pin.
A: And, what did he say C: I don't remember. I woke up screaming.
Dr Alan Hamilton studied the transcript carefully, looking for the unmarked trails of the subconscious, seeking a clue that would explain what was disturbing Catherine. He was reasonably certain that her apprehension was connected with the fact that strangers had arrived from Athens, and Athens was the scene of her traumatic past. The part about Wim puzzled Alan. Was Catherine imagining it? Or was Wim behaving in an atypical way? I'm due to see Wim in a few weeks, Alan thought. Perhaps I will move up his appointment Alan sat there thinking about Catherine. Although he made it a rule never to get involved emotionally with his patients Catherine was someone special. She was beautiful and vulnerable and . . . What am I doing? I can't let myself think this way. I'll concentrate on something else. But his thoughts kept returning to her.
Catherine was unable to get Alan Hamilton out of her mind. Don't be a fool, Catherine told herself. He's a married man. All patients feel this way about their analysts. But nothing Catherine told herself helped. Maybe I should see an analyst about my analyst She was seeing Alan again in two days. Perhaps I should cancel the appointment, Catherine thought, before 1 get in any deeper Too late.
On the morning she had the appointment with Alan, Catherine dressed very carefully and went to the beauty parlor. As long as I'm not going to see him again after today, Catherine reasoned, there's no harm in my looking nice.
The moment she walked into his office, her resolve melted. Why does he have to be so damned attractive? Why couldn't we have met before he got married? Why couldn't he have known me when I was a normal and sane human being? But, on the other hand, if I were a sane, normal human being, I wouldn't have gone to him in the first place, would I
'I beg your pardon?' Catherine realized she had spoken aloud. Now was the time to tell him that this was her last visit She took a deep breath. 'Alan . . .' And her resolve broke She looked over at the photograph on the coffee table 'How long have you been married?' 'Married?' He followed Catherine's glance. 'Oh. That's my sister and her son.' Catherine felt a wave of joy sweep through her. 'Oh, that's wonderful! I mean, she . . . she looks wonderful.' 'Are you all right, Catherine?' Kirk Reynolds had kept asking her that. / wasn't all right then, Catherine thought, but I am now. 'I'm fine,' Catherine said 'You're not married?' 'No.' Will you have dinner with me? Will you take me to bed? Will you marry me? If she said any of these things aloud he would really think she was crazy. Maybe I am He was watching her, frowning. 'Catherine, I'm afraid we're not going to be able to go on with these sessions. Today will be our last day.' Catherine's heart sank. 'Why? Have I done something to . . . ?' 'No, it ... it isn't you. In a professional relationship of this kind, it's improper for a doctor to become emotionally involved with a patient.' She was staring at him now, her eyes glowing. 'Are you saying that you're becoming emotionally involved with me?' 'Yes. And because of that I'm afraid . . .' 'You're absolutely right,' Catherine said happily. 'Let's talk about it tonight at dinner.'
They dined at a little Italian restaurant in the heart of Soho. The food could have been great of terrible, it made no difference They were totally absorbed in each other 'It isn't fair, Alan,' Catherine said. 'You know everything about me. Tell me about yourself. Weren't you ever married?' 'No. I was engaged to be married.' 'What happened?' 'It was during the war. We were living together in a small flat It was during the days of the Blitz. I was working at the hospital and when I came home one night . . .' Catherine could hear the pain in his voice '. . .the building was gone. There was nothing left.' She put her hand over his. 'I'm sorry.' 'It took me a long time to get over it. I never met anyone else that I wanted to marry.' And his eyes said, until now. They sat there for four hours, talking about everything the theater, medicine, the state of the world; but the real conversation was unspoken. It was the electricity building up between them. They could both feel it. There was a sexual tension between them that was overwhelming Finally, Alan brought up the subject. 'Catherine, what I said this morning about the doctor-patient relationship . . .' 'Tell me about it at your flat.'
They undressed together, quickly and eagerly, and as Catherine took off her clothes, she thought of how she had felt when she was with Kirk Reynolds and how different it was now. The difference is being in love, Catherine thought. I'm in love with this man She lay on the bed waiting for him and when he came to her and put his arms around her, all the worries, all the fears of never being able to relate to a man, vanished. They stroked each other's bodies, exploring, first tenderly, then fiercely, until their need became wild and desperate, and they joined together and Catherine screamed aloud with sheer happiness. I'm whole again, she thought. Thank you! They lay there, spent, and Catherine held Alan close in her arms, never wanting to let him go When she could speak again, she said in a shaky voice, 'You certainly know how to treat a patient, Doctor.'