She laughed. ‘Who said anything about thinking?’ She squeezed his arm. ‘Don’t you do feeling in this country? I thought Greeks were demonstrative and led by their emotions.’
‘I’m only half Greek, remember. The other part is a cold Scottish loch.’
‘A what?’
‘Loch. As in the Loch Ness Monster?’
‘Oh, a
‘Oh yeah,’ he replied. ‘But the massacre talk froze me to the core.’
‘So why are you coming to the shoot?’
‘Good question. Maybe I just want to see you play a freedom fighter in a black dress.’
‘Is that right?’ They had reached the hotel entrance. ‘How about a nightcap?’
Mavros was tempted, but he had things to do and Niki to consider.
‘No, thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
Cara took the rejection in her stride. ‘Goodnight, then.’ She kissed him on the cheek and headed for the stairs. Apparently he wasn’t the only resident who kept fit that way.
He was outside his room when his phone rang again.
‘Hey, Alex, it’s Mikis.’ The driver’s voice was rushed.
‘What’s up?’
‘We’ve had an episode with the bullies from Kornaria.’
‘Any casualties?’
‘Only on their side.’
‘You sure they didn’t get into the clinic?’
‘As sure as I am that two of them will wake up with broken ribs.’
Mavros glanced at his watch. It was nearly ten and his stomach was rumbling. ‘I’m coming over,’ he said. ‘Fancy something to eat?’
‘Any neo-Nazi baiting tonight?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Pity. OK, take one of our vehicles — get the driver to call me before you set off.’
‘Can’t be too careful, eh?’
‘Not in vendetta-land, no.’
Mavros went into his room and put his laptop and Nondas’s keys in his bag. He decided he’d spend the night in his brother-in-law’s place and try speaking to Maria Kondos in the morning.
After he’d gone through the procedure with the driver, a late-middle-aged man named Yerasimos, the car — a high-end saloon — swung out of the resort gate and headed east.
‘How do you find the film crew?’ he asked. Not having a car in Athens, he always talked to taxi drivers. Although some were morons, many had informed views about life and he often picked up useful information from them.
‘West Coast Americans,’ Yerasimos replied, as if that was sufficient explanation.
‘Loud, overconfident?’ Mavros encouraged.
‘Put it this way. I spent thirty years driving a cab in New York City. Californians are pussycats compared with the customers there. But I don’t think they’re very serious people.’
‘Hollywood doesn’t exactly have a reputation for encouraging intellectuals,’ Mavros said, realizing that Yerasimos would know plenty about the film crew. ‘Have you driven Cara Parks?’
‘Occasionally. She seems like a nice person. I don’t like her assistant, though. She’s got a tongue in her head.’
‘You heard she went missing?’
‘I did. Can’t say I was sorry. She’d have got on all right. She could tell anyone what she thought of them in the coarsest Greek, Cretan pronunciation and expressions included.’
That was interesting. No one had said that Maria spoke good Greek, let alone the local dialect. What might that add to the issue of her disappearance?
‘How about the director, Luke Jannet?’
Yerasimos overtook an ancient tractor smoothly. ‘Jannet? I’ve only had him a couple of times. What was that you said about loud and overconfident? I won’t be going to see his film, I can tell you that.’
‘You reckon it’ll be another
‘Full of inaccuracies and unconvincing love affairs? Probably. But not just that. It’s an exercise in bloodsucking.’
‘Striking phrase. What does it mean, exactly?’
The driver smiled tightly. ‘You’re from Athens, right? I know that plenty of people there died during the Axis occupation, maybe you’ve even got relatives among them. But here it was different. People haven’t forgotten on Crete.’
‘You mean the massacres?’
‘Those, and the burning of villages and the torture and the beatings. It may look like everyone’s welcoming German tourists with open arms — and they are, for their money — but deep down there’s a hatred, especially among the older generation and in the villages that don’t have income from tourism.’
‘What about Rudolf Kersten?’ Mavros asked. ‘He was a paratrooper during the invasion.’
‘Ah, Mr Kersten is the exception that proves the truth of what I’m saying. He’s done so much for this part of Crete that it would take days to list everything. He’s rebuilt villages, he’s given thousands of people jobs over the decades, he’s set up scholarships for poor kids to study abroad. . he’s that rare thing, a genuinely good man.’
Mavros thought of David Waggoner. ‘But still there are some who hate him.’
‘There will always be dissenters, jealous people who got less than others.’
The lights of Chania’s suburbs were shining ahead.
‘I heard Mr Kersten was involved in the massacre at Makrymari.’
Yerasimos didn’t speak for some time, his hands tight on the wheel.
‘There are people who say that, usually inspired by that piece of shit Waggoner. The British think he was a hero, but all he did was bring down more Nazi reprisals on the heads of innocent Cretans. We didn’t need the British. If they’d dropped us the weapons, we’d have done the job ourselves but, of course, they never trusted us enough.’
That was a different angle to those Mavros had heard before. He thanked the driver when they pulled up outside the clinic. Mikis was at his door before he could open it.
‘Interesting guy, Yerasimos,’ Mavros said, after the saloon had departed.
‘Yeah,’ Mikis said, with a grin. ‘Hidden depths. Did he tell you he was in New York for years?’
‘Yes.’
‘But he didn’t tell you why he went, did he? He was involved in a vendetta. He pushed a guy who betrayed his father to the Germans off a cliff.’
A tremor of unease ran through Mavros. ‘How was it resolved?’
‘Eventually the major players died of old age and agreement was reached.’
‘Thirty years,’ Mavros said ruefully.
‘Yeah, encouraging, isn’t it?’
Mavros looked around at the men on the street — some of them he recognized, other not. The Range Rover was where it had been in the afternoon, baseball bats visible through the windows.
‘The influence of American culture,’ Mikis said, following the direction of his gaze. ‘They’re useful weapons because they aren’t lethal unless you really want them to be.’
‘As long as you don’t bore out the middle and fill it with molten lead.’
Mikis laughed. ‘Now there’s a thought.’
‘Are your boys all right for an hour or two while we go and eat?’
‘They’re organized for the whole night and I’m only a phone call away.’
He went over and spoke to the young men and then beckoned Mavros to the Jeep.
‘I’ll take you to a good place,’ the Cretan said, heading for the city centre.
‘On the harbour front?’ Mavros asked, not wanting to run into the well-lubricated Luke Jannet.
