“There was,” I said. “Like the gold, the ship was originally confiscated from the Jews of Salonika, and Merten sold it to Witzel, in 1943, for a knockdown price. He changed the name of the ship to make sure this remained secret.”
“Yes,” said Reppas, “that would explain a lot. It was always stick and carrot with Merten; sometimes he was leading the boss on with estimates of how much gold was down there—each time more than the last—and sometimes he was threatening to tell the police about how the boss had acquired the ship in the first place.”
“One more question: Did Max Merten discover exactly how Brunner found out about your expedition? After all, it was fourteen years since Merten double-crossed Brunner and arranged for the Epeius to be scuttled. And twelve since the end of the war. Max Merten has been living openly as a lawyer in Munich all this time. The Americans offered to extradite him to Greece in 1945 but the Greek government said he wasn’t wanted in connection with any war crimes. He’s been a model citizen in Munich, a man with friends in the West German government. By contrast, Alois Brunner is a hunted war criminal living under a false name. The Greeks want him, as do the Israelis, and so I imagine do the French. How did he find out that Merten had come back to Greece?”
Spiros Reppas frowned. “Like I said, sometimes my German is not so good. I understand German when someone speaks to me and I can see their lips moving. Overheard is not so easy for me. Also the longer compound words are difficult. But I think maybe I heard Merten tell Witzel that someone close to Adenauer must have told Brunner that he, Merten, was coming to Greece. And that Brunner wouldn’t be the first old Nazi to go to work for the new German government.”
Reppas took a superhuman drag on the cigarette and threw up his hands in defeat.
“That’s it, mister. Every damn thing I know. I’ve no idea what’s to become of me now.” He sighed. “I’ve lost my best friend and I’ve lost my livelihood. Can I ask you a question?”
“Fire away.”
“Diving can be dangerous. The boss always said that if anything ever happened to me while he was diving the Doris would be mine. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ll reconsider your decision on the insurance money. That you could make out a check to me instead of him. I’d be more than happy to accept a reduced figure. Ten cents on the dollar, perhaps. After all the ship was old and probably not worth half of what the boss said it was.”
“Sorry, no. My employers are kind of funny about paying out in cases involving arson. They don’t do it, as a rule. But if you can find a last will and testament naming you as my client’s sole heir, you could always take them on in the courts. I wouldn’t give much for your chances, mind. Even in Germany there’s probably some small print that discriminates against the kind of people who go after millions in stolen Jewish gold.” I took out my wallet and handed him some money. I decided I could probably afford it out of the twenty thousand I was going to have when we cashed the certified check on the way to Spetses in the morning. “But to show you there are no hard feelings, here’s fifty. Get yourself a new nose.”
FORTY-FOUR
–
The next morning we cashed the certified check at the Alpha Bank in Corinth, with me pretending to be Siegfried Witzel, as planned. While we were still in the bank there was a small earth tremor, which did little to make me feel better about what I was doing, although that might as easily have been the ten stitches in my left forearm—now in a black sling, as if I was in mourning—and the painkillers I was taking. But even for a self-confessed coward like Achilles Garlopis it seemed that the venetian blinds swaying gently on the bank’s windows were nothing to be concerned about.
“In Corinth these things happen all the time,” he said, crossing himself just to be on the safe side. “Which is to say, when the gods are angry with us. I often think that earth tremors are why we believe in the gods in the first place.”
“I’m sure I can’t think of a better reason.”
“Oh, I can.” He nodded at the window, through which we could see the Rover and Elli sitting inside it, and smiled a mischievous smile. “At least I can when I look at Miss Panatoniou.”
She was outside because I thought it best for her legal career that she should stay away from the larceny being carried out inside the Alpha Bank. Not that she seemed to care very much about that. For a lawyer she wasn’t averse to taking risks. More than seemed at all judicious.
“Maybe you should become a priest,” I said. “A sermon like that beats anything the Lutherans have to offer.”
“It’s strange, but she really seems to like you, sir. Women are odd creatures, aren’t they? I mean, there’s no accounting for a woman like this. And when she’s around it’s like the sun is out. The way she looks at you—it’s like she’s shining upon you.”
“A man can get burned if he stays in the sun for too long.”
“I don’t think she’s the type to burn you. Just dazzle you a bit. Always supposing such a thing is even possible.”
“Actually, I’m not sure it
