“Good evening gorgeous creature,” Pitt said lightly, taking her outstretched hand and kissing it.
Teri flushed, then looked up at his grinning face. “I was going to thank you for coming,” she said. “But now that I’ve seen through the naughty little trick You’ve played on me, I’ve a good notion to toss you out on your bloody.
“Don’t say it,” Pitt interrupted. His lips curved devilishly. “I know you won’t believe me, but just this afternoon the base commander took me off the garbage truck, made me a pilot, and promoted me to Major.”
She laughed. “Shame on you. You told me your rank was under that of a sergeant.”
“No. I only said that I’ve never been a sergeant, and that’s the truth.”
She slipped her hand through Pitt’s arm. “Has Uncle Bruno been boring you with his flying tales of the Great War?”
“Fascinating me maybe, but not boring,” Pitt answered. Her eyes looked scared behind her smile. He wondered what she was thinking.
Teri shook her head from side to side. “You men and your war stories.” She kept staring at Pitt’s uniform and insignia of rank. This didn’t seem like the same man she had loved on the beach. This one was much more charming and sophisticated. “You may have Dirk after dinner, Uncle Bruno, but right now he’s mine.”
Von Till expertly clicked his heels and bowed. “As you wish my dear. For the next hour and a half, you shall be our commanding officer.”
She wrinkled her nose at von Till. “That’s awfully decent of you, Uncle, in that case my first order is for both of you to march to the dinner table.”
Teri pulled Pitt out to the terrace and led him down a sloping stairway that ended on a circular overhanging balcony.
The view was breathtaking. Far below the villa the lights of Liminas were blinking on house by house.
And across the sea, the early stars began to poke their tips into a spreading blanket of black. In the middle of the balcony, a table was set with service for three. A large yellow globe containing six candles illuminated the setting and cast an intriguing glow over the table, turning the silver dinnerware to gold.
Pitt eased Teri’s chair back for her and whispered in her ear. “You better be careful. You know how stimulated I get in romantic atmosphere.”
She looked up at him and her eyes smiled. “Why do you think I planned it this way.”
Before Pitt could answer, von Till walked up followed by the giant dog, and snapped his fingers.
Instantly, a young girl in native Greek costume materialized and set down an appetizer of mixed cheeses, olives and cucumbers. Next came a chicken soup, flavored with lemon and egg yokes. Then the main course; baked oysters mixed with onions and minced nuts. Von Till uncorked the wine, — Retsina-a fine old Greek wine.
It’s resin flavor reminded Pitt of turpentine. After the serving girl cleared the dishes, she brought a tray of fruit and then poured the coffee made in the Turkish manner; the powdered beans settling like silt on the bottom of the cup.
Pitt forced down the strong unsweetened coffee and rubbed knees with: Teri. He expected a girlish grin but instead she looked at him with frightened eyes. It seemed she was trying to tell him something.
“Well. Major,” said von Till “I hope you enjoyed our little repast.”
“Yes, thank you,” replied Pitt “It was excellent.”
Von Till stared across the table at Teri. His face had set like stone, and his voice turned to ice. “I would like to be alone with the Major for a little while, my dear. Why don’t you wait in the study, we will be along shortly.”
Teri acted surprised. She shuddered faintly, gripping the edge of the table before she answered him.
“Please, Uncle Bruno, It’s too early. Can’t you wait and have your little talk with Dirk later?”
Von Till shot her a withering look. “Do as your Uncle says. I have a few important matters I would like to discuss with Major Pitt. I am sure he will not leave before seeing you.”
Pitt found himself becoming angry. Why the sudden family crisis? he wondered. He took a long breath, sensing something very wrong. An odd prickle crept up his back; that old familiar feeling of danger. Like an old and trusted friend, it always tapped him on the shoulder and warned him when a nasty situation was brewing.
Unseen, Pitt slipped a paring knife off the plate of fruits and pushed it under his pant leg and into his sock.
Teri looked at Pitt, her face paling “Please excuse me, Dirk. I don’t mean to be a ninny.”
He smiled. “Don’t worry. I have a weakness for pretty ninnies.”
“You never seem to fail to say the right thing,” she murmured.
He squeezed her hand. “I’ll join you as soon as I can.”
“I’ll be waiting.” Suddenly her eyes brimmed with tears and she turned away and ran up the stairway.
“I am sorry for speaking so harshly to Teri,” the old German apologized. “I had to talk to you privately and she rarely appreciates my desire to converse without feminine interruption. It is often necessary to become firm with women. Do you agree?”
Pitt nodded. He could think of nothing worthwhile to say.
Von Till inserted a cigarette in a long ivory holder and lit it. “I am extremely interested in hearing about the attack yesterday on Brady Field. My information from that section of the island tells me it was a very old and unknown type of airplane that struck your facility.”
“Old maybe,” said Pitt, “but not unknown.”
“Are you saying you have determined the make of airplane?”
Pitt studied von Till’s face. Silently be dawdled with a fork, then slowly laid it back on the tablecloth.
“The aircraft was positively identified as an Albatros
“And the pilot?” The words came slowly from Von Till's tight mouth. “Do you know the Identity of the pilot?”
“Not yet, but we will shortly.”
“You seem confident of an early capture.”
Pitt took his time about answering. He slowly and methodically lit a cigarette. “Why not. It shouldn’t be difficult to trace a sixty year old yellow antique aircraft to its owner.”
A smug grin crossed von Till’s face. “Macedonian Greece is an area of rugged terrain and desolate countryside. There are many thousands of square miles of mountains, valleys and eroded plains where even one of your monstrous jet bombers could be hidden and never detected.”
Pitt grinned back. “Who said anything about searching mountains or valleys?”
‘Where else would you look?”
“In the sea,” Pitt said pointing at the black water far below. “Probably in the same spot where Kurt Heibert crashed back in 1918.”
Von Till arched an eyebrow. “Are you asking me to believe in ghosts?”
Pitt grinned. “When we were little boys we believed in Santa Claus. And when we became big boys we believed in virgins. Why not add ghosts to the list also?”
“No thank you, Major. I find cold facts and figures superior to superstition.”
Pitt’s voice was even and distinct. 'That leaves us with another avenue to explore.”
Von Till sat erect, his eyes squinting at Pitt.
“What if Kurt Heibert is still alive?”
Von Till’s mouth dropped open. Then he caught himself and exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke. “That’s ridiculous. If Kurt were still alive he would be over seventy years old. Look at me, Major. I was born in 1899. Do you think a man of my age could fly an open cockpit plane, not to mention attacking an air field? No, I don’t think so.”
“The facts are on your side, of course,” said Pitt. He paused a moment, running his long fingers through his hair. “Still, I can’t help wondering if Heibert isn’t connected in some way.” His eyes shifted from the old German to the great white dog and he felt a vague tension grip his body. Intrigue hung heavily around them. He came to the villa at Teri’s invitation expecting only to enjoy a quiet dinner. Instead, he found himself engaged In a battle of wits with her uncle, a shrewd old Teuton who, Pitt was certain, knew more about the raid on Brady Field than he was telling. It was time to cast a spear and the hell with the consequences. He locked his eyes on von Till. “If the Hawk of Macedonia really did vanish sixty years ago and reappeared yesterday, the interesting question is; where did he spend his time between? In heaven, in hell… or on Thasos?”
