Greeks Bearing Gifts

about Mediterranean monk seals, first described by Aristotle, and for some reason it won a prize at the Cannes Film Festival. Don’t ask me why. All I know about monk seals is that they’re very rare. The Doris sank on an expedition looking for ancient Greek artifacts: statues, pottery, that kind of thing. Which are much less rare, at least in Greece. The ship was en route from Piraeus—the main port of Athens—to the island of Hydra when it caught fire off the coast of Dokos, which is another island near there. The small crew abandoned ship and made for the mainland in the life raft. The Hellenic Coast Guard in Piraeus is now investigating the loss, as is the Mercantile Marine Ministry here in Athens, but being Greek both of these bodies are slow and bureaucratic, not to say sclerotic. And to be quite frank with you, sir, their enthusiasm for investigating the loss of any German ship is unfortunately small. Which is perhaps not surprising, given that in the war Greece lost a total of 429 ships, most of them sunk by the Germans. But even at the best of times—and speaking of it as a purely investigative body—the Hellenic Coast Guard is slow; it’s still looking into the loss of the Lycia, a British ship that ran aground off Katakolon last February, and also of the Irene, a Greek coaster that foundered southeast of Crete last September.”

“So we’re on our own, investigatively speaking.”

“That’s about the size of it, unfortunately.”

“Tell me about this fellow Witzel.”

“I think it’s possible the gods sank his ship because they were angry with him, but I doubt they could have been more angry than he has been with me. In short, he is a man with a most violent temper. Rude, disagreeable, and impatient. He makes Achilles seem like a model of good grace.”

“Why do you say so?”

“I’ve tried to explain to him that nothing was going to happen until someone arrived from head office to adjust his claim against MRE but he’s not much disposed to listen to me, a mere Greek. Since then I’ve been threatened with violence on more than one occasion.”

“By Witzel?”

“By Witzel. He’s very tough, very fit, you see. As you might expect from someone who is a professional diver. He doesn’t seem to suffer fools gladly, and Greek fools like me, not at all. Frankly, I’m glad you’re here so you can deal with him. One German with another. Poseidon himself would find this man frightening. Not least because he carries a gun.”

“Oh?”

“And a switchblade.”

“Interesting. What kind of gun?”

“An automatic pistol. In a leather shoulder holster. Many Greeks do carry weapons, of course. Because of the Nazis. And before them, the Ottoman Turks. On Crete, it’s quite common for men to carry handguns. But then Cretans are a law to themselves.”

“But Witzel is a German, you said. Not Greek.”

“Although not as noticeably as you, sir. He speaks our language fluently. As you might expect of someone who was living here before the war.”

“In my own experience carrying a gun tends to calm a man down. You can’t afford to lose your temper more than once when you have a Bismarck in your pocket. The police don’t like it.”

“Well, I thought I should mention it.”

“I’m glad you did. I’ll certainly remember that if I try to adjust his claim. What else can you tell me about him?”

“It’s true that the man has lost his home as well as his livelihood, since he also claims to have been living on the ship. So this might account for his behavior. However, I have also found him inclined to be evasive as well as angry. For example: in my opinion he has failed to supply an adequate explanation for how the fire on board the Doris might have occurred. I say might have occurred since I only ever asked him to speculate on what could have happened, which did not seem unreasonable, given the size of his claim. After all, one has to write something down on the loss report. Also, about the company that chartered the Doris to look for antiquities, he has been less than forthcoming.”

“Is it possible that they were looking for these antiquities illegally?”

“On the contrary. All of the permissions were obtained at the highest level. And I do mean the highest. The exploration license was signed by Mr. Karamanlis, no less.”

Konstantinos Karamanlis was the Greek prime minister.

“Mr. Witzel seems to think that this trumps the need for all explanations. As if Karamanlis were Zeus himself.”

“Do you think his claim might be fraudulent? That he might have scuttled his own ship to get the money?”

“That’s not for me to say, sir. I’m not a loss adjustor. Just a loss adjustor’s humble agent.”

“Perhaps, but when he sent me down here, Alois Alzheimer, MRE’s chairman, described you as our local shipping expert.” This was a lie, of course. But a little flattery couldn’t do any harm.

“He did? Mr. Alzheimer said that?”

“Yes.”

“That is most gratifying, sir. To think that a man like Mr. Alzheimer knows a man like me even exists. Yes, that is most gratifying.”

“I’m new at this game, Mr. Garlopis. I’m afraid I know nothing about ships. And even less about Greece. I’m here to cover for Mr. Neff. So your own opinions about what happened to the Doris are more important than you might think. You tell me to authorize payment and I’ll recommend we authorize payment. But if you tell me the case has only got one shoe we’ll take a walk around and look for the other. Thirty-five thousand is a lot of money. Take it from me, people have killed for a lot less.”

“It’s kind of you to say so, Mr. Ganz. And I appreciate your honesty, sir.” Mr. Garlopis chuckled. “There are logical explanations for almost everything, of course. I accept that. But for several years I was a merchant seaman myself and I can tell you that the men who go to