'Hey, keep your light pointed where you're headed,' said the oldest. 'I don't want to have to carry you out of here because you trip over something.' He kept his own eyes on the fifteen feet in front of him, regularly glancing farther ahead to see what to prepare for next. 'That's how you get through dangerous places like this.' He'd told them that over and over.
'Yeah, yeah,' said the youngest. 'Hey, I see the T, there it is.' He pointed and started walking faster.
The oldest shook his head. 'Take it easy, and remember, take the right. We're going back the safe way.'
As the youngest reached the merge he looked back over his left shoulder, threw an open palm at the oldest — the Greek equivalent of the middle-finger salute — and turned left. He froze in midstep. 'Jesus. Look at that.' He was pointing straight ahead.
The others ran up to him. A hundred yards straight ahead, light was streaming into the tunnel. There appeared to be an open door. They looked at one another, checked their weapons, and crossed themselves. They seemed like frightened rabbits about to confront a hound. Cautiously, as if in prayer, they headed toward the light, their eyes fastened to it, their ears perked for sounds ahead, beyond the crunch of their own boots on the earth.
By the time they reached the door the man holding his breath in the dark — ten feet to the right of where they'd turned left — had finished his own prayers and slid deeper into the darkness. Only the faintly perceptible sound of wheels under weight turning slowly in the dirt could be heard — if someone were listening for the sound in that direction. But no one was, so no one ever heard him or saw him — or her.
19
The first report in to Andreas was 'they found her.' He was so relieved at the words that he hugged Tassos. On their way to the mine entrance closest to where she'd been 'found,' he'd learned the truth. The plunge from great joy to deep despair took only the time it took to hear a single missing word: what they'd found was 'her hair.'
Andreas stood at the edge of the road, staring down the hill toward three of his men waiting by the mine entrance. His face looked bloodless. He wondered if this was how his father felt when facing the end of his career. No, Andreas knew it must have been a lot worse for his dad. He'd been betrayed by someone he trusted. Andreas would never do that — trust someone — or so he kept telling himself.
'Pretty deserted out here. Guess that's why he picked it.' Tassos sounded like a cheerleader. 'We're just over the hill from Panos' farm and less than a mile from the artist's place.'
'And this tunnel ties in to an entrance above the priest's beach.' Andreas kicked a rock down the hill. 'Pick one.'
Tassos shrugged and watched the rock tumble until it disappeared. 'Any news on the suspects?'
Andreas nodded no. 'A few people saw Father Paul having lunch on Paradise Beach two days ago with some woman from California, but we can't find him — or any of the others.'
They started down the hill. Now neither seemed very enthusiastic.
'Hey, look at this.' Tassos pointed at gouges in the dirt. 'Something big slid through here recently.'
They followed the marks.
'Looks like another motorbike accident,' said Andreas. He pointed to a few bits of bloodstained fabric near the end of the slide and moved toward a large wild rosemary bush. 'The bike and driver ended up here.' He looked around. 'I don't see anything, do you?'
Tassos nodded no. 'The driver must have dragged the bike back up to the road. Guess it wasn't serious. Damn lucky. Could have been a lot worse.' He started toward the mine entrance.
Andreas grabbed his arm to stop him. 'Wait a minute.' He drew a line in the air running from their feet to his men at the entrance. 'Those are tire tracks. That's where the bike is.'
Andreas yelled to his men. 'Is there a motorbike in there?'
'A what?' a man yelled back.
'A motorbike,' Andreas barked.
The men looked at one another then back at their chief. 'No, sir.'
Andreas and Tassos followed the tracks up to the mine. The entrance was crisscrossed with boards warning of danger in three languages and signs depicting stick figures falling off a cliff. The tire tracks went inside. They maneuvered themselves through the maze of boards by following the tracks and, with flashlights blazing, found the reason for the warnings. About fifty feet inside the entrance, an ugly, jagged gash in the floor opened into an abyss. The tracks ended there. Andreas pointed his flashlight into the hole. 'My God, do you think the driver and bike are in there? I can't see the bottom.'
Tassos angled his beam across to the other side of the gash, then onto the ceiling and back along the walls behind him. Andreas sensed he wanted to say something. 'What is it?'
Tassos seemed reluctant to speak. 'I don't think so. Take a look at the ground on the other side.'
The tire tracks picked up again, about two feet from the edge.
Andreas was amazed. 'It's at least fifteen feet to the other side of this! How the hell did he get over there?'
Once more Tassos paused before speaking. 'He had some ancient help.' He directed his light on the floor at their feet. 'Our guy knows his island history.'
'What are you talking about?' Andreas was getting impatient.
'I'll bet our killer is the one with the bike.' He pointed into the light at their feet. 'The tracks end about two feet from this edge and resume about two feet from the far edge. And there's a three-foot-wide impression in the dirt between the tire tracks and the edges on both sides.'
Andreas wanted him to get to the point. 'Great, this hole to hell keeps the curious away from his hiding place, but how'd he get across?'
'That's where he turned to the ancients.'
Andreas' voice was rising. 'What the hell are you trying to tell me?'
Tassos didn't answer. He simply pulled at a timber about five feet back from the edge of the hole. It looked it was holding up the roof — not a timber you'd want to move.
Andreas instinctively looked up. That's when he saw a huge plank coming toward him. It was part of the ceiling spanning the chasm, but it wasn't falling; it was slowly descending, suspended by ropes at each corner. The near end rested at his feet precisely within the impressions in the dirt.
'Amazing,' said Andreas.
Tassos spoke like a teacher delivering a lecture he'd given a hundred times before. 'Actually, this sort of thing wasn't all that rare on the islands in ancient times.' He paused as if considering whether to continue. 'Every island built secret tunnels to hide from pirates and invaders. Sometimes, an earthquake created an underground abyss — such as this one — across a tunnel. The ancients took it as a sign that the gods would protect them if they reached the other side. Trouble was, a permanent bridge made it easy for their enemies to reach it, too.' He pointed to the timber he'd pulled. 'Ingenious how they did it. The timber secures the whole system in place. It works sort of like a castle's drawbridge, except this bridge drops straight down.'
'This can't be that old,' said Andreas.
'It isn't,' said Tassos, who no longer showed any reluctance to speak. 'Whatever caused this hole happened after the mine was built, and this setup uses modern ratchets, weights, and pulleys to lower and raise the plank. The timber keeps the ratchet from allowing the plank to move.' He pointed to the other side. 'I'll bet somewhere over there's a ratchet for moving the plank from that side. My guess is this was built by our killer — he knew what he was doing.'
Andreas didn't feel like complimenting the killer, no matter how obvious his skills. 'It's time to get over there.'
Tassos gave a slightly nervous look over the edge. 'Heights aren't my thing. After you, Chief.'
Andreas patted him on the back and winked, then briskly crossed over the plank. 'Just keep your eyes shut.' He was beginning to sound like himself again.
Tassos let the three officers cross before slowly inching himself along the plank, shuffling — not lifting — his
