The Silver Stain

If Stavrakakis knew who Cara was, he didn’t show it as he outlined Maria’s injuries. The wounds on her feet had been dressed by the surgical team — they were fairly severe and she wouldn’t be able to walk for several days. A full set of tests was also being carried out.

‘I would like to ask how your assistant, friend, got into this state.’

‘Mr Mavros here found her.’ Cara stopped speaking abruptly, passing the baton to him.

He described Maria’s disappearance and her downhill flight, but said nothing about the location or the clash with the villagers.

‘You see,’ the neurologist said, ‘I’ve examined the patient closely and can see no sign of a head wound — though obviously an MRI scan will confirm that. Do you know of any reason for her silence? She has not said a word to anyone and we have tried both English and Greek. I take it from her name that she has Greek heritage.’

Cara nodded. ‘But, as far as I know, she doesn’t know the language and this is her first time in Greece.’

‘I’ll ensure that English is the sole language used. I understand you are filming out at Maleme.’

So he had recognized the actress, Mavros thought.

‘Maleme and neighbouring areas, yes.’

‘And it’s a war film. I wonder if anything could have shocked her into this condition. Has she been near explosions or suchlike?’

Cara shook her head. ‘Nothing like that. We’ve been doing pre-invasion scenes so far. It’s only today that the aircraft are flying for the first time.’

‘Did she seem normal before she disappeared?’ the doctor asked. ‘And why did she disappear?’

‘She was completely all right,’ the actress said. ‘Busy, as we always are on a shoot, but not unduly pressured.’ She didn’t offer any more information.

Stavrakakis turned to Mavros. ‘So we don’t know why she disappeared?’

‘She was seen walking out of the Heavenly Blue resort on Sunday evening. We don’t know where she was until I picked her up today.’

‘And you are. .?’

‘Alex Mavros, a member of the production team,’ Cara put in.

The doctor nodded. ‘Very well. I will let you know when I have news.’ He left the room.

Mavros looked at the actress. ‘A member of the production team?’ he asked, with a smile. ‘Rosie Yellenberg wanted me on the plane back to Athens tonight.’

‘Rosie’s a coin-counter,’ Cara scoffed. ‘Do you think this case is over?’

Mavros shook his head.

‘Good,’ she agreed. ‘I need to know what happened to Maria. Until she comes back to herself, I want you to keep on it.’

‘OK,’ he said, not sounding over-enthusiastic. ‘Ms Yellenberg did say that I could stay as long as I like since I found Maria.’

‘I’ll bet she did,’ Cara said sharply. ‘She wants me back at work.’

‘Are you going to oblige?’

‘Can’t really say no now, can I? But I’ll stay here for the rest of today. I want to see Maria and assure her that everything’s all right.’

Mavros looked out of the window. Mikis and his friends were crowded round the Range Rover across the road.

‘I don’t think you should stay here alone,’ he said.

Then the door opened and Rosie Yellenberg walked in.

‘Go get ’em, tiger,’ Cara Parks said, with a surprisingly warm smile.

He left the women to it.

‘Shit!’

Mavros ducked as a Messerschmitt 109 with Luftwaffe markings screamed overhead, only a few metres above the electricity poles. He watched as it streaked towards the airfield, where a Junkers 52 troop carrier was manoeuvring in a cloud of dust.

Mikis had left him at the entrance to Maleme aerodrome and gone back to the resort to talk to his father. The security guys on the gate let him through when he showed the plastic-covered card he’d been given by Alice Quincy.

‘Where’s Mr Jennet?’ he shouted, as the fighter came back to make a second pass.

The guard pointed to a group of people at the far end of the runway from the modern buildings. ‘You can wait for a lift or take a papaki.’ He indicated a row of ‘little ducks’ — Honda 50s.

Mavros hated all forms of mechanized two-wheel transport, but in this case he was prepared to make an exception. It was hot and he didn’t want to wait in the sunlight. Mounting the contraption, he was pleasantly surprised to find that he remembered how to start it and even change gear — like every Greek boy, he had messed around with them before becoming heartily sick of the racket from shot exhausts.

He made it to the crowd in a few minutes. There was a large amount of equipment spread around — not only cameras, but generators, screens and numerous other things he didn’t know the name or purpose of. Then he saw a line of chairs under sunshades, as if an impromptu cafe had been set up. Rudolf and Hildegard Kersten were at one end, while David Waggoner was at the other. Between them were members of the film crew, some working on laptops and others arranging equipment. Alice Quincy saw him and came over.

‘Hello, Mr Mavros,’ she said, struggling to make herself heard above the sound of the taxiing Ju52.

‘Alex,’ he shouted back. The noise reduced as the plane headed away.

‘Can I help you?’ The young woman was in jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt that must have made her uncomfortably hot.

‘I want to talk to Mr Jennet. Is he available?’

‘If it’s about Maria Kondos, he knows you found her.’ She shaded her eyes as dust gathered around them. ‘The runway’s concrete, but we’re throwing up dust to make it look like it was back in the war.’

‘Art’s all about the little things,’ he said.

Alice Quincy wasn’t sure how to take that, which was his intention.

‘If you don’t mind, I need to sign off with Mr Jannet. He was the one who hired me, after all.’

Irritation flashed across her face, then she nodded. ‘You’ll have to wait. He’s arranging the next shots.’

Mavros shrugged and went over to the Kerstens.

‘May I join you?’ He signalled to the old man to remain seated. Hildegard gave him a soft smile.

‘Of course,’ Rudolf said. ‘I hear you found Maria Kondos, Alex. I’m so glad.’

There were bottles of water on the table and Mavros helped himself after offering the others. He was still plagued by thirst. He wondered what it must have been like for the soldiers.

‘Did you have enough water during the battle?’ he asked.

Kersten was watching the Ju52. ‘Tante Jus, we called them,’ he said. ‘Auntie Jus. I don’t know why they had that affectionate nickname. They were slow, cramped and highly vulnerable to anti-aircraft fire. To answer your question, no, we never had enough to drink. Most of us drained our bottles within minutes of landing.’ He looked over his shoulder to the trees in the distance. ‘It may look well irrigated now, but I can assure you that back then there was very little water on the ground. We survived by taking dead men’s bottles.’

Hildegard had turned away, as if mention of the fighting was abhorrent to her.

‘Look at that,’ Rudolf said, pointing to the group of men in wartime jumpsuits and parachutes outside the now stationary Ju52. ‘I’ve told them several times that they should hold the end of their cords between their teeth as they climb the ladder. Only one of them paid attention.’

‘Did they use Maleme for jumps after it was captured?’ Mavros asked, puzzled.

‘No, they’re pretending this is an airfield outside Athens. I boarded during the night, but it’s true there were later waves. The producers didn’t see any need to film on the mainland as well.’

Mavros watched as the men finished clambering on board and the plane taxied to the other end of the runway. He noticed that there were cameras mounted on pickup trucks all around, presumably to give many different angles to the flight.

‘This morning they filmed inside the Tante Ju,’ the old man said. ‘They could only fit six men in with the cameras and other equipment. Now they’re going to record the drop, both from inside the plane and from the ground.’