Greece has seven main ports -Thessaloniki, Patras, Volos, Igoumenitsa, Kavala, Iraklion and Piraeus Piraeus lies seven miles southwest of the center of Athens, and it serves not only as the main port of Greece, but as one of the major ports of Europe. The port complex consists of four harbors, three of them for pleasure boats and oceangoing vessels. The fourth harbor, Herakles, is reserved for freighters fitted with hatches opening directly onto the quay The Thele was lying at anchor at Herakles. It was a huge tanker, and lying still in the dark harbor, it resembled a giant behemoth ready to pounce Tony Rizzoli, accompanied by four men, drove up to the pier Rizzoli looked up at the huge ship and thought, So it is here Now let's see if our friend Demiris is aboard He turned to the men with him. 'I want two of you to wait here. The other two come with me. See that nobody gets off the ship.' 'Right.' Rizzoli and two men walked up the gangplank. As they reached the top, a deck hand approached them. 'Can I help you?' 'We're here to see Mr Demiris.' 'Mr Demiris is in the owner's cabin. Is he expecting you?' So the tip-off was right. Rizzoli smiled. 'Yeah. He's expecting us. What time is the ship sailing?' 'At midnight. I'll show you the way.' 'Thank you.' They followed the sailor along the deck until they came to a ladder that led below. The three men trailed him down the ladder and along a narrow passageway, passing half a dozen cabins along the way When they arrived at the last cabin, the sailor started to knock Rizzoli pushed him aside. 'We'll announce ourselves.' He shoved the door open and walked in The cabin was larger than Rizzoli had expected. It was furnished with a bed and a couch, a desk, and two easy chairs. Behind the desk sat Constantin Demiris When he looked up and saw Rizzoli, Demiris scrambled to his feet. His face paled. 'What . . . what are you doing here?' His voice was a whisper 'My friends and I decided to pay you a little bon voyage visit, Costa.' 'How did you know I . . . ? I mean. . . I wasn't expecting you.' 'I'm sure you weren't,' Rizzoli said. He turned to the sailor 'Thanks, pal.' The sailor left Rizzoli turned back to Demiris. 'Were you planning on taking a trip without saying goodbye to your partner?' Demiris said quickly, 'No. Of course not. I just... I just came to check out some things on the ship. She's sailing tomorrow morning.' His fingers were trembling Rizzoli moved closer to him. When he spoke, his voice was soft. 'Costa baby, you made a big mistake. There's no point in trying to run away, because you have no place to hide. You and I have a deal, remember? Do you know what happens to people who welsh on deals? They die bad real bad.' Demiris swallowed. 'I... I'd like to talk to you alone.' Rizzoli turned to his men. 'Wait outside.' When they were gone, Rizzoli sank into an armchair. 'I'm very disappointed in you, Costa.' 'I can't go through with this,' Demiris said. 'I'll give you money more money than you've ever dreamed of.' 'In return for what?'
'For getting off this ship and leaving me alone.' There was desperation in Demiris' voice. 'You can't do this to me. The government will take my fleet away. I'll be ruined. Please. I'll give you anything you want.' Tony Rizzoli smiled. 'I have everything I want. How many tankers do you have? Twenty? Thirty? We're going to keep them all busy, you and me. All you have to do is add an extra port of call or two.' 'You . . . you don't have any idea what you're doing to me.' 'I guess you should have thought of that before you pulled that little frame-up.' Tony Rizzoli rose to his feet 'You're going to have a talk with the captain. Tell him we're going to make an extra stop, off the coast of Florida.' Demiris hesitated. 'All right. When you come back in the morning . . .' Rizzoli laughed. 'I'm not going any place. The games are over You were planning to sneak away at midnight. Fine. I'm going to sneak away with you. We're bringing a load of heroin aboard, Costa, and just to sweeten the deal, we're taking along one of the treasures from the State Museum. And you're going to smuggle it into the United States for me. That's your punishment for trying to double-cross me.' There was a dazed look in Demiris' eyes. 'I isn't there anything,' he pleaded, 'anything I can do to . . . ?' Rizzoli patted him on the shoulder. 'Cheer up. I promise you're going to enjoy being my partner.' Rizzoli walked over to the door and opened it. 'All right, let's load the stuff on board,' he said 'Where do you want us to put it?'
There are hundreds of hiding places on any ship, but Rizzoli did not feel the need to be clever. Constantin Demiris' fleet was above suspicion 'Put it in a sack of potatoes,' he said. 'Mark the sack and stow it in the rear of the galley. Bring the vase to Mr Demiris. He's going to take care of it personally.' Rizzoli turned to Demiris, his eyes filled with contempt. 'Do you have any problem with that?' Demiris tried to speak, but no words came out 'All right, boys,' Rizzoli said. 'Let's move.' Rizzoli settled back in the armchair. 'Nice cabin. I'm going to let you keep it, Costa. My boys and I will find our own quarters.' 'Thank you,' Demiris said miserably. 'Thank you.'
At midnight, the huge tanker sailed away from the wharf with two tugboats guiding it out to sea. The heroin had been hidden aboard, and the vase had been delivered to Constantin Demiris' cabin Tony Rizzoli called one of his men aside. 'I want you to go to the radio room and tear out the wireless. I don't want Demiris sending any messages.' 'Gotcha, Tony.' Constantin Demiris was a broken man, but Rizzoli was taking no chances.
Rizzoli had been afraid up until the moment of sailing that something might go wrong, for what was happening was beyond his wildest dreams. Constantin. Demiris, one of the richest, most powerful men in the world, was his partner. Partner, hell, Rizzoli thought. / own the bastard. His whole goddamned fleet belongs to me. I can ship as much stuff as the boys can deliver. Let the other guys break their asses trying to figure out how to smuggle the stuff into the States. I've got it made. And then there's all the him* treasures from the museum. That's another real gold mine. Only it all belongs to me. What the boys don't know won't hurt them. Tony Rizzoli fell asleep dreaming of a fleet of golden ships and palaces and nubile serving girls.
When Rizzoli awoke in the morning, he and his men went to the dining room for breakfast. Half a dozen crew members were already there. A steward approached the table. 'Good morning.' 'Where's Mr Demiris?' Rizzoli asked. 'Isn't he having breakfast?' 'He's staying in his cabin, Mr Rizzoli. He gave us instructions to give you and your friends anything you want.' 'That's very nice of him,' Rizzoli smiled. 'I'll have some orange juice, and bacon and eggs. What about you, boys?' 'Sounds good.' When they had ordered, Rizzoli said, 'I want you boys to play it cool. Keep your pieces out of sight. Be nice and polite Remember, we're Mr Demiris' guests.'
Demiris did not appear for lunch that day. Nor did he show up for dinner Rizzoli went up to have a talk with him Demiris was in his cabin, staring out of a porthole. He looked pale and drawn Rizzoli said, 'You gotta eat to keep your strength up, partner I wouldn't want you to get sick. We have a lot to do. I told the steward to send in some dinner here.' Demiris took a deep breath. 'I can't all right. Get out, please.' Rizzoli grinned. 'Sure. After dinner, get some sleep. You look terrible.'
In the morning, Rizzoli went to see the captain 'I'm Tony Rizzoli,' he said. 'I'm a guest of Mr Demiris.' 'Ah, yes. Mr Demiris told me you would be coming to see me. He mentioned that there might be a change of course?' 'Right. I'll let you know. When will we be arriving off the coast of Florida?' 'In approximately three weeks, Mr Rizzoli.' 'Good. I'll see you later.' Rizzoli left and strolled around the ship his ship. The whole goddamned fleet was his. The world was his. Rizzoli was filled with a euphoria such as he had never known.
The crossing was smooth, and from time to time, Rizzoli dropped into Constantin Demiris' cabin 'You should have some broads on board,' Rizzoli said. 'But I guess you Greeks don't need broads, do you?' Demiris refused to rise to the bait.
The days passed slowly, but every hour brought Rizzoli closer to his dreams. He was in a fever of impatience. A week passed, then another week, and they were nearing the North American continent.
On Saturday evening Rizzoli was standing at the ship's rail looking out at the ocean when there was a flash of lightning.
The first mate came up to him. 'We might be in for some rough weather, Mr Rizzoli. I hope you're a good sailor.'
Rizzoli shrugged. 'Nothing bothers me.'
The sea began its swell. The ship started to dip into the sea and then buck upwards as it ploughed through the waves.
Rizzoli began to feel queasy. So I'm not a good sailor, he thought. What's the difference? He owned the world. He returned to his cabin early and got into bed.
He had dreams. This time,, there were no golden ships or beautiful naked girls. They were dark dreams. There was a war going on, and he could hear the roar of cannons. An explosion woke him up.
Rizzoli sat up in bed, wide awake. The cabin was rocking. The ship was in the middle of a goddamned storm. He could hear footsteps running through the corridor. What the hell was going on?
Tony Rizzoli hurried out of bed and went into the corridor The floor suddenly listed to one side and he almost lost his balance.
'What's happening?' he called to one of the men running past him.
'An explosion. The ship's on fire. We're sinking. You'd better get up on deck.'
'Sinking . . . ?' Rizzoli could not believe it. Everything had gone so smoothly. But it doesn't matter, Rizzoli thought / can afford to lose this shipment. There will be plenty more. I've got to save Demiris. He's the key to everything. We'll send out a call for help. And then he remembered that he had ordered the wireless destroyed.
Fighting to keep his balance, Tony Rizzoli made his way toward the companionway and climbed up to the deck. To his surprise, he saw that the storm had cleared. The sea was smooth. air : A full moon had come out. There was another loud explosion, and another, and the ship started to list farther. The stern was in the water, going down rapidly. Sailors were trying to lower the lifeboats, but it was too late. The water around the ship was a mass of burning oil. Where was Constantin Demiris? And then Rizzoli heard it. It was a whirring sound, pitched high above the thunder of the explosions. He looked up. There was a helicopter poised ten feet above the ship. We're saved, Rizzoli thought jubilantly. He waved frantically at the helicopter A face appeared at the window. It took Rizzoli a moment to realize that it was Constantin Demiris. He was smiling, and in his raised hand he was holding up the priceless amphora. Rizzoli stared, his brain trying to put together what was happening. How had Constantin Demiris found a helicopter in the middle of the night to . . .
And then Rizzoli knew, and his bowels turned to water Constantin Demiris had never had any intention of doing business with him. The son-of-a-bitch had planned the whole thing from the beginning. The phone call telling him that Demiris was running away that phone call hadn't come from Spyros Lambrou it had come from Demiris! He had laid his trap to get him on the ship, and Rizzoli had leaped into it The tanker started to sink deeper, faster, and Rizzoli felt the cold ocean lapping at his feet, and then his knees. The bastard was going to let them all die here, in the middle of nowhere, where there would be no trace of what happened. Rizzoli looked up at the helicopter, and yelled frantically, 'Come back, I'll give you anything!' The wind whipped his words away The last thing Tony Rizzoli saw before the ship heeled over and his eyes filled with the burning salt water was the helicopter zooming toward the moon. Chapter 17 St Morit z Catherine was in a state of shock. She sat on the couch in her hotel room, listening to Lieutenant Hans Bergman, head of the ski patrol, tell her that Kirk Reynolds was dead. The sound of Bergman's voice flowed over Catherine in waves, but she was not listening to the words. She was too numbed by the horror of what had happened. All the people around me die, she thought despairingly. Larry's dead, and now Kirk. And there were the others: Noelle, Napoleon Chotas, Frederick Stavros. It was an unending nightmare Vaguely, through the fog of her despair, she heard Hans Bergman's voice. 'Mrs Reynolds . . . Mrs Reynolds . . .' She raised her head. 'I'm not Mrs Reynolds,' she said wearily. 'I'm Catherine Alexander. Kirk and I were . . . were friends.' 'I see.' Catherine took a deep breath. 'How . . . how did it happen Kirk was such a good skier.' 'I know. He skied here many times.' He shook his head. 'To tell you the truth, Miss Alexander, I'm puzzled about what happened. We found his body on the Lagalp, a slope that was closed because of an avalanche last week. The sign must have been blown down by the wind. I'm terribly sorry.' Sorry. What a weak word, what a stupid word 'How would you like us to handle the funeral arrangements, Miss Alexander?' So death was not the end. No, there were arrangements to be made. Coffins and burial plots, and flowers, and relatives to be notified. Catherine wanted to scream 'Miss Alexander?' Catherine looked up. till notify Kirk's family.' 'Thank you.'
The trip back to London was a mourning. She had come up to the mountains with Kirk, filled with eager hope, thinking that it was, perhaps, a new beginning, a door to a new life Kirk had been so gentle and so patient. / should have made love with him, Catherine thought. But in the end, would it really have mattered? What did anything matter? I'm under some kind of curse. I destroy everyone who comes near me When Catherine returned to London, she was too depressed to go back to work. She stayed in the flat, refusing to see anyone, or talk to anyone. Anna, the housekeeper, prepared meals for her and took them to Catherine's room, but the trays were returned, untouched 'You must eat something, Miss Alexander.' But the thought of food made Catherine ill.
The next day Catherine was feeling worse. She felt as though her chest were filled with iron. She found it difficult to breathe.