Authors: Kevin Ashman
‘Sit down,’ said the guard menacingly.
Brandon calculated his chances but realised he could not cross the room before the guard could draw his gun. He turned and sat back down.
‘Thank you,’ said the official, ‘No need for any unpleasantness, perhaps these may help.’ He threw a handful of photographs on the table, all of Brandon in various places in England. One in particular was obviously taken from a moving vehicle and showed him walking into a camp carrying a large blue holdall. Behind him was a sign that clearly said ‘Stirling Lines.’
‘Now, can we stop this pretence?’ he asked.’ I care not whether you are in the SAS or the boy scouts. All I want to know is information about Peter Venezelos. I am not asking you to betray your country or give away any military secrets. All I want to know are two things. One, is he alive? And two, where is he now?’
Brandon realised he was compromised and assessed the situation. He was unarmed in a locked room with a man with a gun. His training kicked in and he assessed the situation carefully. What the man was asking would be common knowledge soon enough so there was no need to put his life, or the life of India at risk by holding out. If this man didn’t know where Peter Venezelos was, he probably wasn’t aware that he was dead. This was an opportunity to increase his chances by giving some truth to his story without revealing too much information.
‘Okay,’ said Brandon. ‘I admit I am a serving British officer but in the army training corps, not the SAS. I was in Hereford teaching Morse code.’
The man shrugged.
‘We won’t pursue that,’ he said. ‘It is not important.’
‘If I tell you what I know,’ said Brandon, ‘How do I know you will let us go?’
‘We are not animals, Mr Walker,’ he said.’ Greece is a civilised country, and was so, long before your little island had even learned how to clothe themselves. We are a member of the European Union and share a common purpose. What we don’t do, is allow foreigners into our country on a mission to kill one of our citizens.’
‘Kill?’ gasped Brandon. You have got this all wrong. What on earth makes you think I am an assassin?’
‘Why else would you carry a gun?’ asked the man simply.
‘Wow,’ said Brandon, ‘You’ve certainly done your homework. Okay, I will tell you what I know.’ He paused to gather his thoughts. The gun is for my own protection. The man you speak of tried to kill me back in England. I caught him trying to break into my house. He escaped but dropped his wallet. We traced it here and I am just here to see if I can find anything out.’
‘And have you?’
‘Not really, it seems he was a member of some gang long ago, but, apart from that we have found out nothing.’
‘And the girl?’
‘She has nothing to do with this. She is just a friend. I asked her along to avoid suspicion.’
The man glanced at the guard at the door who nodded almost imperceptibly.
‘Okay,’ said the Greek man, ‘This all fits with what we know. What about his brother?’
‘I know nothing about a brother.’
The officer stared for a while before continuing.
‘I tell you what, Mr Walker,’ he said, ‘Despite the rocky start, I believe you are telling me the truth. To prove our credentials I will return the compliment and share with you what I know. Peter Venezelos has a twin brother called Jason. They are citizens of Samothrace and were small time drug dealers. When we arrested them they agreed to take part in a sting to catch the main dealers and we set them up with a hundred thousand dollars to bait the trap. Unfortunately, the temptation was too great and they fled Greece with the money. Naturally we want them, and the money back. They were last seen in Rome, so you can imagine, when somebody arrived asking questions, we were naturally very interested.’
‘But why would he try to kill me?’ asked Brandon, exploring this new information.
‘I don’t know, perhaps he just panicked when you caught him breaking into your house.’
‘Possibly,’ said Brandon. ‘Still, I had no idea this was a police investigation and apologise for any concern we may have caused.’
‘No problem,’ said the officer. ‘I am glad we sorted out the misunderstanding. He stood up and held out a business card. ‘If you do find anything out, please give me a call.’
‘I will, said Brandon taking the card. ‘Can I go now?’
‘Of course, but one more thing, Mr Walker, What do you know about the Palladium?’
Brandon maintained a blank face and shrugged his shoulders.
‘Big concert hall in the middle of London. Why do you ask?’
The Greek man smiled.
‘No matter,’ he said, ‘You may leave.’
‘What about India?’ asked Brandon.
‘She is already back at your hotel, packing,’ he answered.
‘Packing, why?’
‘I have booked you on a flight out of Athens tomorrow afternoon,’ he said. ‘The ferry leaves Samothrace at eight am and your flight to London is at four. As pleasant as this has been, we still cannot allow an armed man with a grudge to wander the streets of Samothrace. I am sure you understand. Enjoy your last night in Greece Mr Walker, goodbye.’
The guard opened the door and Brandon left quickly, constantly looking over his shoulder as he tried to find a taxi.
‘What do you think?’ asked the guard back in the hotel room.
‘Two things,’ answered the officer. ‘One is that he is definitely SAS and the second is he knows more than he is letting on. Give him space but have him followed. He may yet tell us what we want to know.’
‘Yes sir,’ said the thug and left the room.
----
‘Brandon, thank god!’ said India when he finally returned to the room. She walked forward to embrace him but he brushed past her and went to the window, pulling the curtain aside to peer into the street.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked.
‘Have you finished packing?’ he asked.
‘Not yet,’ she said, but why the rush? That policeman said we can go tomorrow.’
‘He was no more policeman than I am,’ said Brandon. ‘All that bullshit about drugs was bollocks. There’s something else going on here. I don’t know what it is yet, but there is no way I am going to sit back and wait for things to happen.’
‘What’s brought this on?’ she asked, ‘He seemed really nice.’
Brandon started to put the few things he had into his rucksack.
‘First of all he knew who I was and what I do. Secondly, he has an entourage of armed thugs surrounding him. And thirdly, did you catch his name?’
‘I don’t think so,’ she said, ‘Why.’
He threw the business card the officer had given him on the table. India picked it up and read the name.
‘Gatilusi,’ she read.
‘Ring any bells?’ asked Brandon.
She stared at him, her mind turning over as she searched her memory.
‘Hang on,’ she said, ‘Weren’t they the family that Agatha told us about? The one’s who ran this island for a couple of hundred years.’
‘That’s right, he said, The last great ruling family until they were ousted by the Ottomans.’
‘The family Peter Venezelos’s gang were named after?’
‘Yup! and they used the family’s eagle as an emblem.’
‘Aetosh,’ she said.
‘Aetosh,’ he confirmed.
‘May be a coincidence?’ she ventured.
‘Too many links to be a coincidence,’ he answered. ‘The guy who tried to kill us was in a gang called the Aetosh. Now we get warned off by someone who is probably a descendant of the original family.’
‘So where are we going?’
‘I don’t know yet, I just want to get away from here. I don’t trust him. He reckons Peter Venezelos is some small time drug dealer but I’m not so sure.’
India got up to get herself a glass of water.
‘What else did he say?’ she asked over her shoulder.
‘Not much,’ said Brandon, ‘Though he did ask me a strange question. He wanted to know about the London Palladium, of all things.’
The sound of a breaking glass came from behind him and he span around. India was staring at him, the remains of the glass lying at her feet.
‘What did you say?’ she asked.
‘About the drugs?’ he asked
‘No. The Palladium, what did he ask you?’
‘Not much really, just asked what I knew about the London Palladium.’
‘Did he say
London
Palladium?’ she asked. ‘Think carefully Brandon, What were his
exact
words? Did he actually say London?
‘Do you know what?’ said Brandon, I don’t think he did. He just said,
What do you know about the Palladium
? Why, is it important?’
‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘It all makes sense. It’s not the London Palladium,’ he was asking about, but probably the most sought after artefact in the modern world. The statue of Pallas Athena!’
India cleaned up the mess and they sat on the settee as she explained.
‘If you recall,’ said India, ‘I told you the story of the statue of Pallas being taken to Samothrace by Electra, and ultimately ending up in Troy.’
‘Yes, but what has that to do with the Palladium?’
‘That’s just it,’ she said, ‘The statue
is
the Palladium. During it’s time in Troy, the statue became known as the Palladium and for over a thousand years, it was said that as long as the Palladium stayed at it’s heart, the city would never fall. Obviously it became famous across the region, and, throughout history many cities across the world adopted their own versions of the Palladium. Even the American constitution has been called the Palladium of America. The London Palladium is just a building named after the most important icon any city could ever have. Very clever thinking by whomever thought up the name, don’t you think?’
‘Wait a minute,’ said Brandon, ‘You said the statue of Pallus
is
the Palladium. Don’t you mean
was
?’
‘I know exactly what I said, Brandon,’ said India, ‘I said
is,
because many scholars believe it is still in existence. Rumours abound right across the world of archaeology that it still survives, even after thousands of years. ‘
‘How on earth can they be so sure?’ he asked. ‘Surely it would have rotted by now.’
‘Not necessarily,’ said India, ‘It depends on what it is made of. Some wood is as hard as iron. Ebony, Teak, Lignum Vitae, the list is endless. If the statue was made from any of these and it was kept out of the weather it could last indefinitely. Archaeologists have found artefacts made of wood, hundreds of thousands of years old.’
‘I thought it was stolen from Troy before the city fell.’
‘It was, and for a long time no-one knew where it was, but, around eight hundred BC, it reappeared in Rome, around about the time the city was starting to make a name for itself. Stories vary about who brought it there and we will probably never know but the fact is, like Troy, Rome was built around the Palladium.’
‘Where is it now?’
‘Well, that’s the thing. History says it stayed there until Emperor Constantine buried it under the tower in Constantinople. But why would Gatilusi be interested in that?’
‘Hang on,’ said Brandon. ‘Let’s take a step back here, I think we’re missing something obvious. The one link throughout all this seems to be the statue, right?’
‘The Palladium,’ corrected India
‘Okay, the Palladium. It appears way back in the beginning of Greek history, it gets taken to Samothrace, then Troy, only to disappear but reappear in Rome a few hundred years later. It disappears again in the third century AD, taken by an emperor who was the founder of the Byzantine empire.’
‘Well, he wasn’t exactly the founder,’ said India, ‘The Byzantine empire was just another name for the eastern provinces, though he did rename Byzantium the new capital of Rome.’
‘Okay,’ said Brandon, ’But here we are, seventeen hundred years later, and the descendant of the last ruling family of a Byzantine castle, is linked with a murderer, who, in turn, may be linked with the Palladium.’ He paused. ‘It’s all very confusing but I’m sure it’s all here. We just need to make some sense of it.’
‘Wait a minute,’ said India. The Gatilusi family were the last great ruling family on Samothrace, right? Imagine if, over the years, their descendants harbour an ancestral grudge and still see themselves as the rightful rulers of the island. The only way they could ever gain any semblance of control is through the political system.’
‘What are you saying?’ asked Brandon.
‘Think about it. There’s no way Samothrace would ever gain independence but if there was a groundswell of support and enough political pressure, they could at least press for a local governorship.’
‘That would take some doing.’
‘I agree, but with enough support and patriotism, Greece would be morally obliged to give it some sort of self governorship. Devolution seems to be the way of the world at the moment. It seems that the subject has already been brought into the spotlight by the Aetosh.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Brandon, ‘But according to Agatha, they just organised some demonstrations to return the island’s removed artefacts back to where they belong.’