A Darker God (30 page)

Montacute kicked Letty’s ankle and said calmly: “A very natural mistake. Miss Laetitia’s own father and Sir Andrew were very good friends and there was, of course, a closeness between Sir Richard’s daughter and his old friend, which De metrios, among many, has observed.” He directed a kindly nod at the boy. “But perhaps this might be the moment to announce some of the provisions Sir Andrew made in his will for his family and staff? Allay a little panic?”

Letty’s first concern was to halt the slide of the mortified child out of sight. He was far too young to be taking on his shoulders the concerns and now the melodramas of such a puzzling foreign household, and, she guessed, probably came in for quite a ribbing from the other servants.

“Well, I wish Sir Andrew
had
willed the house to me, Demetrios!” she said cheerfully. “I’d have kept the household together, cats and all! He
has
left me one of his properties but it’s too far away to be of use to any of us—somewhere up north near Salonika, though I’ve never been there. But the good news is—he didn’t just remember his family in his will, he remembered all of you as well. Mrs. Stephanopoulos is to receive a generous sum of money in gratitude for the many years she has worked for him, and the rest of you—Petros, Maria, and Demetrios—are to have twenty pounds each.”

A hubbub broke out, laced with smiles and exclamations. Dorothea produced a bottle of raki and a set of small glasses and poured out celebratory drinks for all. The first toast was to the professor with the wish that his soul might prosper, the second for the good news, and the third to Letty for bringing them the good news. They were embarking on a fourth round when Montacute and Letty took their leave.

As they climbed back upstairs, Montacute turned to Letty. “Miss Laetitia! Would you have any qualms about getting some information for me without any of the servants knowing?”

“Probably not,” she said. “Ask! What do you want to know?”

“I should like to find out the home address of the boot boy. Not Demetrios. His predecessor—Thomas, I think you said his name was?”

Chapter 26

N
othing simpler!” Letty answered. “Why don’t you go on upstairs to the library, Inspector? I’ll bring you what you want in a moment.”

She turned back to the staff room.

“Dorothea!” she said, poking her head around the door. “No, I don’t want to disturb you again—you’re all to take a half hour off. It occurs to me that while I’m down here and standing in for Lady Merriman, I may as well initial the daybook.”

Dorothea, hiccupping gently, dabbed her lips with a lace handkerchief and raised a little finger in acknowledgement. “Of course, Mistress! She would have counted on doing it last night.”

She took down a ledger from a corner shelf by the fireplace and handed it to Letty.

Letty looked about her, taking in the scene, and tucked the book under her arm. “Carry on, all of you. I’ll take this upstairs with me. And take a moment to make a note of the … changed circumstances …” she added confidentially.

————

“There you are! The daybook.” Letty placed it on the desk in front of Montacute. “If you want to know what everyone ate for breakfast six weeks ago last Tuesday you’ll find it in here. Weekly grocery bills … the fishmonger … the milkman … guests … who came and went … the usual things. You’ll find what you’re looking for at the back. Staff records. Weekly payments. Deductions for breakages—Maud was tough on breakages—and the staff’s home addresses and personal details.”

The inspector pounced on the book and turned at once to the back pages.

“Montacute, what do you find so interesting about that young chap?” Gunning asked.

Letty replied for him. “Changes in routine. Appearances and disappearances. That’s what gets the inspector going.”

He smiled and nodded in agreement as he found the information he was searching for. “Immaculately kept records. And here we have the sudden appearance of young Demetrios. Third week in June. With an address for him on the fringes of the Plaka. Stadiou Adrianou. Family name: Volos. Father Vassilios and mother Kalliopi. Father is a taxi driver by trade. Dorothea has noted that he was introduced and vouched for by the previous employee, Thomas. They interviewed no others for the position.”

He riffled back through a few more pages and came upon: “Thomas. Clean record. She’s noted down Andrew’s testimonial for the boy. Sudden departure back home to Eleusis. Father suffered work injury and the son was needed to help out. Runs a garage. Unusual. Halfway to Corinth, they probably sell a good deal of petrol to passing tourists. Taxis? Cars? There may be a link …”

Montacute reached for the telephone and asked for a connection. “Probably all nonsense,” he said casually while he waited. “But if I’m going down a hole after something nasty, I
like to know that all possible exits have been blocked. Saves a lot of effort. Ah! Philippos? Montacute here. Give me Harry, will you?… Sarge! Tell me what you’re busy with … Fine … Fine … Look, I want you to leave that for the moment. There’s something else I want you to do. Oh … inside two hours. And what’s more you’ll enjoy it! I want you to drive out on the Corinth road with a young lady and fill the car up with petrol. No, that’s all. Take one of the unmarked sedans. Your passenger will brief you. Pick her up … not here … um … in Academy Street. In front of the Schliemann mansion. She’ll be the young lady carrying a picnic hamper. In, let’s say, half an hour. You’re to come back with some information for me. You’ll be back in time for the meeting with the superintendent and the medics, don’t worry.”

“Well, I’d better start cutting the sandwiches, then,” said Letty dryly. “Does the sergeant like cheese or ham?”

“No need for that. Just grab an empty basket from the kitchen. It’s only window dressing. Now, here’s what you’re to do …”

A moment later he left the room to check on the taxi stand at the corner of the square, and Gunning and Letty sighed in irritation and relief.

“I’ll stroll round the corner with you and deliver you into the hands of the sergeant,” Gunning volunteered when they were alone. “I wonder if you’ve realised, Letty, that he’s playing a game of pass the parcel?” He spoke swiftly, an eye on the door.

“What do you mean? And—am I the parcel in question?”

“I think so. You said it yourself—what interests him is change … new actors making their entrance. And it’s not just Demetrios who’s wandered onto this scene.
You
have arrived.
Thetis
has arrived. Both of you with a motive for spiking poor old Andrew.”

“He’s asked me twice now if we knew each other in London,” said Letty doubtfully.

Gunning snorted. “Then he may suspect you’re working together—in some sort of awful Maenad rampage. You top Andrew—not quite sure why … jealousy? revenge for a betrayal of some sort? Woman scorned? He doesn’t know you as I do and what do we know of
him
, after all? The man may have some pretty primitive ideas about ‘wimmin’ and their emotions. He might well be not in the least surprised that a spurned woman should take it into her head to stab her lover in his faithless heart. I expect it happens every Saturday night in Beak Street, Soho. And, honestly, Letty, if what you report about Andrew is true, then it’s a wonder to
me
, let alone Montacute, that the man went unfilleted for so long! And then Thetis gives Maud a push. The plotters meet back at Mrs. Rose’s haven for young ladies to congratulate each other. But he’s broken up the conspiracy. Thetis he’s made safe under lock and key, but it’s my theory he’s giving
you
the illusion that you’re running loose. He’s even convinced you that you’re being of assistance to the forces of law and order.”

“But I
am
being of use. The inspector sees every advantage of sailing along in the lee of my charm and secure social position.” Letty grinned. “Don’t be concerned, William, I was not deceived! The man’s using me as a decoy duck, an innocent-looking lure, while he stands in the underbrush, shotgun at the ready.”

“And you’ll have realised that he’s holding you on the end of a longish leash, if I may pile up our sporting metaphors. If you’re not actually in his company, he’ll send you off with one of his sergeants riding guard.”

“Apart from the hours I spent at Mrs. Rose’s, I’ve been under undeclared police surveillance the whole time since Andrew died.”

“And perhaps even then …”

Letty shuddered. “You’re right.” She seized his hands and held them to her face. “I hate this! I wish they’d leave us alone! I just want to hug you and talk. I want to do the ordinary things we were planning—watching the sun set over the temple at Sounion, dabbling in the spring at Delphi, canoodling behind the gravestones in the Kerameikos. And Thetis has given me the address of a sweet little hotel in Vouliagmeni where they smile and ask no questions. William! We could just climb into a taxi while he’s got his back turned! Two minutes to fling a few things into a bag … What about it?”

“I think our romantic twosome would turn into a rather uncomfortable threesome before we’d signed the register. Don’t underrate the man. I’d guess he has tentacles spreading all over Greece.”

“Do you seriously think Montacute suspects me of stabbing Andrew to death?”

“Not sure. I think he’s behaving strangely. For a policeman, I mean. Oh, he does everything by the book, but … well, with the attitude of one who’s actually written the book. I expect him to tear it up and rewrite it to please himself at any moment. If we were on a ship I’d call him a loose cannon. Just try not to annoy him too much, Letty. I’ll be here. I won’t let him get away with any nonsense.”

He moved to the window. “Come and look! He’s back again. And what’s he up to now? The inspector seems to spend an awful lot of his time on his knees, don’t you think?”

Letty joined him and watched as Montacute, below the window, shuffled about on the pavings picking up something of interest and putting it in his pocket. He stood and dusted off his trousers and looked up. He smiled back at them as though he’d been aware of their presence, made a gesture, and went back a few paces towards the pepper tree. Then he was on
his knees again, searching the grille and pocketing more objects. Finally he came towards the door, miming hand-washing, and disappeared inside.

He bounced into the room a minute or two later, smiling with satisfaction.

“Anything interesting down there?” Gunning couldn’t help asking.

“Oh, yes! The local taxi drivers would appear to be making a very good living out of their trade. They certainly do themselves proud in the tobacco department, if that’s any indication. Nothing but the best for them, it seems!”

He took a couple of cigarette stubs from his pocket and laid them in an ashtray. “What do you make of these?” he asked, and without waiting for an answer: “Turkish manufacture,” he said. “Look at the gold strip around the top, the quality of the tobacco. The very finest. And very expensive. Not what the taxi-driving fraternity usually smoke. And none of these has been smoked right down to the butt—we’re not contemplating a smoker who has to get every last drag from his cigarette. I noticed some of these around their stand down there on the corner. And then the same thing up here. Under the tree and right outside the front door. In piles. Someone’s been watching the house since the last street-sweeping was done. And, judging by the quantities buried under the grille, for many days before that. Lady Merriman, it seems, was right to be pulling the emergency cord! The house—or someone in it—
was
under surveillance. Any idea where the nearest tobacco outlet is, Miss Laetitia?”

“That would be in the café down there or—for more exotic brands—you’d have to go as far as the shop on the corner of Academy Street. I used to go there for Andrew’s tins of Lambert and Butler’s Navy Cut.”

Montacute looked at his watch. “We just have time,” he
said, assuming they were following his thoughts. “Gunning—I expect you’ll want to escort Miss Laetitia as far as the Schliemann palace? I’ll come with you both as far as the tobacconist’s. “Picnic basket …?” He bellowed as he strode from the room.

    “Nothing to do with
him
, he claims,” Montacute told them on leaving the shop. “Imported brand, possibly privately imported. Not generally on sale in Greece. He took a good look at the half-smoked one I offered and pronounced it top quality, luxury end of the market, and most likely sent straight for sale in a western capital—London … Paris … New York. Brought back into the country by a tourist perhaps?”

“That sort of thing is all the rage in London,” Letty commented. “Milder tobacco—women like it … and fashionable, effete young men.” She gave the inspector a steady gaze. “You’ll remember our friend Mr. Melton selected a Passing Cloud from his boss’s box this morning?”

Chapter 27