A Darker God (41 page)

“I had envisaged a quieter place,” he interrupted. “For our private conversation. Take the next right, Stefanos.”

Letty was speaking in her Cretan-accented Greek, Gunay with what she guessed to be a heavy northern intonation. If they both kept it simple, they would probably understand each other. In any case the gun was speaking volumes.

“We are going out into the country. A pleasant way to spend a Sunday morning. I thought we’d give Eleusis a miss today … You, I understand, have already left your mark on the architecture of that charming spot. No, we’re going in the opposite direction. To Sounion. The ‘Sacred Headland.’ The temple to Poseidon on top of the cliffs is a sight to behold. I have it in mind to make an offering to the Sea God. He is a greedy god who likes to take more than is his due. His foaming maw is always open. The place gets very busy in the afternoon but at this hour, when the population is mostly on its knees or cooking lunch, we should have it to ourselves.”

Well, she could be forgiven, Letty thought. The man had looked every inch a merchant when he presented himself at the back door. The doffing of the hat, the slight bow, the obliging smile. The unemphatic invitation to approach his stock in the boot of his car, just around the corner. And then, suddenly, the gun in her side, an arm twisted behind her back, and a one-way fare to a deserted beauty spot.

Letty reasoned that this man sitting next to her—unemotional, unremarkable—was the one behind their troubles. The deaths of Andrew and Maud—and soon her own—were to be laid at his door. If he’d attacked her in the street, if he’d ranted and raged and struck her, she would have been better able to fight back, she reckoned. Anger calls up anger. His obdurate calm, his cold assurance, were those of a priest leading a potentially skittish heifer towards the sacrificial altar. But
Letty had caught the blood scent of previous victims and would stretch out her neck for no man.

“Not
another
cliff top? You’re running out of inspiration, Mr. Gunay. After such a dramatic start, you let yourself down. The body in the bathtub was certainly an eye-catcher, the defenestration of Lady Merriman a piece of considerable daring. But so far you seem to be botching my disappearance. I’m wondering why you’re pursuing me with such vigour? Why me?”

As she asked the question, a very convincing answer came to mind.

“Why me?” she repeated more firmly. “What have
I ever
done to deserve such treatment?”

He smiled. A handsome man at one time, she judged. Dark hair, greying, lean face lined with care, the leathery skin of a man of the outdoors. The eyes were concealed, evasive, hard to read. She glanced down briefly at the hand holding the gun. Immaculate. Possibly even manicured. Not a man of the soil, then. His light summer suit was of the best-quality linen, his shirt fresh and starched. In the close proximity in which he was holding her, she detected a whiff of French cologne and a trace of expensive tobacco.

“You have
done
nothing. But you
have
something of mine, I understand.”

“Ah! That wretched little Demetrios! He hurried to you with the news of my surprising inheritance? I’ll have something to say to
him
when I get back!”

“No. He has gone away. He has performed his last service. For you and for me. Unless … But do not think too badly of the boy—it is thanks to him that you are not already dead.”

“You’re going to have to explain that.”

“My plans were, as you have guessed, to kill Merriman and his charming wife. Two lives. And then his daughter. Three lives.”

“But I’m
not
his daughter! Never have been!” Letty burst out in relief. “This is an awful mistake you’re making!”

“Yes. I know that. Thanks to Demetrios, I know that. He hurried to tell us our error. Unfortunately, our attempt to kill you off at Eleusis was already in train before he could transmit his message to me. His father and his uncle were already on the road and had their instructions. He was concerned for you. Split loyalties … always a danger … it was time to withdraw him. I wait, but do not hear you enquire about the health of the man you shot?”

“I don’t give a spit for his health! Why on earth should I? He didn’t have one of my bullets in him anyway … Your useless gunman was hit by a shard of marble from a temple column. The goddess intervened. Blame it on the goddess!”

The car veered wildly again, throwing her violently to one side and back again as the villainous-looking youth at the wheel made his views clear.

Gunay reached forward, slapped him on the head, and hissed a vicious warning. Then: “You must forgive him. You were speaking of his cousin.”

“So. If it’s my lack of sympathy you’ve got a grouse about-put me out here and I’ll walk back. As penance. On my knees, if you like. I’ll guarantee to visit the patient in hospital and apologise, as you’re so concerned … Big bottom, hole in the head, he can’t be too difficult to find … Cousins! Troublesome nuisances! Look—if it’s a vendetta against the Merriman family you’re waging, I don’t qualify. I say again:
I’m not a blood relation
. Not a drop in common. I can offer you five male cousins from the female line all arriving by boat next week,” she added hopefully. “And well deserving of extermination—golfers all, I understand.”

“No deal,” he said.

The car hit the open road and accelerated aggressively eastwards in the direction of Cape Sounion. The donkey and
foot traffic they encountered veered off the road out of their way, alerted by the blast of the horn. Gunay clicked the safety catch back on his gun and slid it away in his pocket, confident, Letty realised with a chill, that there was no possibility of her escape.

“No deal,” he repeated. “Lady Merriman’s cousins are of no interest to me. But there
is
an arrangement I want to offer you, Miss Talbot. In return for your life.”

Chapter 36

M
ontacute raced back upstairs for the third time and asked for Theotakis’s number.

“They’ve got Laetitia Talbot,” he said.

He spoke clearly into the telephone so that Thetis could follow the conversation. “That little shit Demetrios lured her to the back door. She went off with the wine merchant, according to the maid who was out at the back emptying a brush pan into the bin. She didn’t see the car—it was parked around the corner—but she heard it. Engine left running. No, of course not! I’ve checked with the firm. The owner is at home having his breakfast and was planning to come over to see Miss Talbot in an hour or so. Not much of a description from Maria. Can’t blame her. He looked just like what he said he was … presentable … well-off … Greek. Medium height, dark skin, Sunday-best clothes … Yes, I know … just like a thousand other blokes out and about this morning … A quarter of an hour ago? Let’s say a bit more.” He glanced guiltily at Thetis. “Say twenty-five minutes. I was distracted. Roadblocks? Can we get the roads watched? No idea in which direction … could be anywhere.”

He listened for a moment, his eyes on Thetis’s stricken
face. “Look—is this the right moment, Markos? Can’t this wait? I must get out and—They’ve found something? The name I gave you matched one on the records. Which records are we talking about? Turkish? Ministry for Exchange and Resettlement? Soulios Gunay. Tobacco farmer. Ah. And the Ministry of Internal Affairs … related to the Athenian Volos family. Demetrios! I’ll have his hide! Do what you can in the Plaka, Markos. You’ve got their address. I’ll screw a few thumbs around here.”

As he put down the receiver, Montacute’s eye was caught by Letty’s satchel hanging on the back of her chair. He opened it up, running a hand through the contents. “Well, that’s one thing at least! It’s gone. Her gun. She must have got it in her pocket.”

Thetis opened her eyes wide, then shook her head in evident puzzlement.

The sound of a cheerful rendering of “Onward, Christian Soldiers” on the stairs made them freeze with dismay and indecision. Gunning came in and shot a look at the silent pair, noting that they took an unnecessary two steps away from each other on his entrance. “Ah!” he said, raising his eyebrows, “this is where I leave in haste, having scribbled a note:
Vicar called. Sorry to have found you out.”

“No, Gunning. It’s a case of offering the other cheek. Here it is. Take a swing.”

“Good Lord, man! What are you on about? And please put your ugly mug away. I’ve seen enough of it for a lifetime.” He looked at them steadily, the good humour fading from his face. “Now—which one of you is going to tell me where Letty is?”

    “Not your fault, Montacute. Nor Letty’s, most probably.” Gunning glanced at his watch and spoke swiftly, his voice
tense but positive. “I’m not going to blame her. She does take risks, but always well-calculated ones. If she’s been snatched, it must have been done with some skill. And you say she’s got her Webley with her? Could do more harm than good. And it’s very likely this Gunay, we’re saying? Seems quite a leap … but where else do we have to jump? Tell me what steps you’ve taken …”

He listened without interrupting to the inspector’s recital, then: “Now, a minute’s quiet planning is worth more than a week’s thoughtless dashing about, Letty always says. Roadblocks are going up, but we’re half an hour behind them at least. And it’s a Sunday … officers not at their desks, cars being serviced … you’ll have a job to get anything like a useful level of response. They’re well out of Athens by now. The other centres will be alerted? Corinth? Piraeus? North of here, what have we? Delphi? Marathon? Oh, Lord—Thessalonike, if you keep going long enough. Your chaps have details of the car they’re using? Cream Delage, isn’t it? No one will be particularly concerned that a foreign girl’s gone off for a jaunt in a jazzy motorcar with a gentleman. Happens every Sunday.”

“That’s how they’ll see it,” the inspector admitted. “Probably stop them and sell them an ice-cream cornet.”

“Montacute, I’m assuming the worst possible intentions behind this disappearance. And this is a pretty weird sort of bloke we’re contemplating … I’m trying to put myself into his skin … We have to think he’s going to kill her and dump the body. His first thought was a cliff top at Eleusis. That sets his style. Simple. Dramatic. Undetectable. But he’s a devious villain—clever enough to get hold of Letty, and she’s not easily deceived …
I’m
thinking that
he’s
thinking we’ll cross that scenario off our list. And he seems to be a bloke who has to get his own way. He won’t have enjoyed being thwarted—and by a woman—made to look foolish in front of his men. One of them injured … He’ll want to win the last trick. With a
flourish. ‘This is how you do it, boys!’ he might even be saying at this moment.” Gunning frowned, wriggling his way down into the criminal depths of an unknown man’s mind.

They waited to hear his conclusion.

“Look, Montacute, you may think this sounds a bit mad, but—what would you say to zipping off to Eleusis when Philippos gets here with the car? That’s where we should direct our firepower. He’s going to get it right this time. Cock a snook. He’s taken her to Eleusis.”

Montacute nodded grimly. He seemed to be aware of what the suggestion had cost Gunning, whose every instinct must have been to put himself in the front line, dash off instantly, and carry out his own plans.

They all started on hearing a car hoot by the front door. Montacute paused long enough to say decisively: “That’s Philippos! Agreed, then. I’ll go westwards, on the Eleusis road. The port and the southerly exits will be covered. Possibly not the east—leads nowhere. But then, that may be what he’s looking for … a road going nowhere …” He hesitated for a moment. “Why don’t you get the Dodge out and see what you can see along the Sounion road, Gunning?”

“Good idea.”

The words were crisply delivered but they rang hollow. They avoided each other’s eyes, each aware that there were no good ideas left to them, merely futile time-occupying schemes. But if the troops are agitated, give them a channel for their agitation.

As the inspector clattered down the stairs, Thetis and Gunning exchanged anguished looks.

“Letty has some regard for him, you know. And so have I. If anyone can find her, he will,” Thetis murmured. “But—Sounion! End of the world! Frightening place! I’m coming with you, William.”

“No. No. You stay here by the telephone, Thetis.”

“Then at least give her my good news when you find her, William. And you
will
find her—hang on to that! Wait a minute … I’ll run down to the garage with you and tell you the news as we go.”

    It had all taken so long. Gunning had fumed as he hurried around the corner to the garage, butting against the tide of noisy worshippers turning out of church. He’d cursed as the car failed to start, had forced himself to breathe deeply when he was held up at a crossroads. He only began to cease gnashing his teeth when he was at last out on the open road.

No easy progress here either, though. He’d taken the road to Sounion, following the rocky spine down the centre of the promontory. Skirting round the bleak bulk of Mount Hymettus, he had expected the road to be empty but after a few minutes, when he spurred the car up to twenty miles an hour, he had to rein it in to negotiate a file of mules laden with firewood, a herd of sheep, and several black-clad old ladies with supercilious stares, riding sidesaddle on donkeys and determined to keep him from overtaking. He was on a wild-goose chase but activity, almost any activity, was the only response to his tension and he couldn’t stop. He pressed on, heart-sickeningly certain that Laetitia was lost to him. He was tempted to pull off the road and offer up a quiet prayer but dismissed the corrosive old superstition as a weakness.