The Innocent Bystanders

twenty-three years Craig had only become more himself.

'They come in here very often,' he continued. 'They have what seems to be an inexhaustible passion for cabaret girls who don't cost too much. The girls usually find it flattering. I take it they are—business rivals?' Craig nodded. 'Do they know you?'

'I hope not,' said Craig. 'Otherwise the risk would be so big you'd be ecstatic. Can we go now?'

'Yes,' said Angelos. 'My car is outside. I have a boat, too. That will be useful.'

'Very,' said Craig. 'Where can you hide us?'

'In the mountains. I have a little place where I take a girl sometimes. It's very quiet. But I don't suppose you'll mind that.'

'Not a bit,' said Craig. 'Do you have only one car?' 'Two,' said Angelos.

'I want to borrow one of them,' said Craig. 'You won't refuse me?'

Angelos sighed. 'I forgot how clever you are,' he said. 'That was a mistake. I told you too much, didn't I? You aren't the kind of man to refuse an advantage just because it's unfair.'

He got up then and led the way to the door. When he'd reached it, Craig looked back. Lindemann and Stein looked just as Omar had described them. They were talking hard to the bouzouki stripper and another girl off the same assembly line. There were two bottles of brandy and four glasses on the table. They didn't look like men who were in a hurry to move.

Angelos's two cars were a Volkswagen and an MGB. Craig chose the Volkswagen. It hadn't the sports car's speed, but it was built for the mountains. They parked the cars near the beach and boarded Angelos's boat, a neat little outboard job that would just about hold five. Craig steered it toward Omar's sailing boat, another problem.

'Can you put that somewhere inconspicuous?' he asked.

Angelos thought. 'I could take it to Melos,' he said at last. 'My brother has a boatbuilding business there. I could say it's due for overhaul.' 'How far is Melos?'

'Just a few miles. Or better still I could get my brother to come and collect it. Now if you like.'

'That would be fine,' said Craig, 'if your brother keeps his mouth shut.'

'He will,' said Angelos. 'He owes me money.' He hesitated, then said, 'Craig, do I have to hide a Turk?'

'Either that or kill him,' said Craig. Angelos said no more.

CHAFTEi 10

The house in the mountains was the best accommodation Miriam had seen since her night in Ankara. It had comfortable beds, a bathroom, and a workmanlike kitchen well stocked with food. It was the man who owned it who puzzled her. He behaved to Craig as if he detested him, yet obeyed his every word, and accepted all that Craig had done without question. When Craig had cut Kaplan loose for instance the fat man had accepted it without a blink; as if he expected violence from Craig, and cruelty, and a complete disregard for the comfort and dignity of others. The fat man wasn't like that, Miriam knew, yet he found it fascinating in Craig, as well as hateful. For his part, Craig simply issued orders, certain that the fat man would obey, and he did.

When the fat man had gone, Craig led her to the kitchen and made her cook a meal for Omar, Kaplan, and herself. They ate it in silence. When they had finished Craig took Kaplan to the bathroom, then to his bed. He looked at him in silence, then spoke in Russian.

'You've told the girl the truth?' he asked.

'Yes. I swear it,' said Kaplan.

'I hope so. Tomorrow you will tell the truth to me. Let's hope it's the same truth.' He turned away.

'Please,' said Kaplan. Craig turned back to him.

'Please. What are you doing to me? Why am I here? I thought I was going to be left in peace.'

'Tomorrow,' said Craig. He went out and locked the door.

In the kitchen, Omar was washing dishes, Miriam drying. Omar, Craig was pleased to see, looked very worried. 'Effendi,' he said, 'how long do I have to stay here?'

'A thousand dollars' worth,' said Craig. 'And maybe a bonus.' He sniffed. 'Take a bath, Omar, then go to bed.'

Omar left them. He still looked worried.

'Aren't you going to lock him in?' the girl asked. Craig shook his head. 'You trust him?'

'Nobody trusts Omar,' said Craig. 'But he's in Cyprus. The toughest part. The Greek part. A Turk out here alone wouldn't have a chance, and Omar knows it. He won't leave us.'

The girl slumped forward in her chair. She looked exhausted.

'It's just as well I've got you and your friends to arrange things,' she said. He said nothing. 'Are you sure you can trust your friend?'

'Yes,' said Craig. 'I can trust him. He's all alone. No woman to find out his secrets.'

She sat up then. 'Why do you have to hurt people all the time?' she asked.

'Do I? That wasn't supposed to be hurtful. I just said what I meant to say. Maybe that's what hurts.' He hesitated. 'I'm not cruel like Royce, you know.'

'But you are,' Miriam said. 'The way you treated Kaplan.'

'Cruelty's the key to Kaplan,' Craig said. 'All I did was use it. I didn't enjoy it.'

'The fact that you used it at all-'

'It's what we all use,' he said. 'Force Three, the KGB, Department K. We use it because it works.' He looked at her again, saw how tired she was. 'I wanted to hear what Kaplan told you,' he said, 'but it'll keep till tomorrow. Go to bed.'

'Are you coming with me?' she asked, and the question whipped the blood into her face. 'Suppose you get pregnant?' 'Would you care?'

He didn't answer. She would never believe that she was the only one he would look out for in the whole sorry mess. Better for them both that she wouldn't. He went with her to the bedroom and she came into his arms fierce and demanding, the body's needs drowning the questions her mind feared. But their bodies at least made a dialogue, a question and answer that at last achieved solution. When they had done, she fell asleep at once, and he kissed her as she slept, then fell asleep beside her, as relaxed as a cat, and as wary.

In the morning, as she put on her clothes, she put on her doubts, her fears, her wariness. It was early, but Omar was already in the kitchen, making omelettes. He looked cleaned and rested, and his omelettes were delicious. Craig took the girl onto a verandah that looked straight across the valley to the mountains of Troodos, rich, sweet mountains, green with vine and olive and pine tree, swift tumbling snow streams, houses perched like birds wherever a ridge made it possible.

'It's beautiful here,' Miriam said.

'And safe,' said Craig. 'What did Kaplan tell you?'

'Weren't you happy last night?' she said. 'Wasn't your body happy? Because if it was—that was thanks to me, wasn't it?'

'I was happy.'

'Then shouldn't you be grateful to me? Be nice to me? Or is it you just don't know how to be nice to people?'

Ask Angelos, Craig thought. He's the expert on my talent for friendship. He waited.

'Oh hell,' the girl said at last. 'Hell! Hell!'

She sat down opposite Craig, and her voice became cold, impersonal.

'First of all, I'm sure that Kaplan is Kaplan. I ran all the checks Marcus told me about, and he didn't fluff one. He told me about his work in Russia-'

'What about it?'

'How he was a successful scientist. Then he fell out with the Politburo and finished up in Volochanka. Craig, he escaped from there!'

'We know that,' said Craig.

'But you don't know how. There were ten of them—all Jews. It was like a miracle.'

She told him about the minyan, and the slow evolution of their plan to escape. ('Angelos should hear this too,' said Craig. 'He'd tell you all about my loyalty to groups as abstract concepts.') She told him of the break-out and how he got separated from the others; the long, agonized trek alone to freedom. How he'd wandered alone until he'd almost died, would have died if some Lapps hadn't found him and smuggled him over the border into