Dark Apollo

To judge by the cynical sigh, and muttered, ‘Po, po, po,’ no further explanation was needed. ‘You know the name of this man, thespinis?’

‘He’s called Spiro Xandreou.’

‘Xandreou?’ Across the miles, she heard the sharp intake of breath. Then, ‘I regret I cannot assist you. But I advise you most strongly, thespinis, to proceed no further in this.’ A pause. ‘Most strongly.’ And he’d rung off, leaving Camilla with a host of unanswered questions.

She’d been warned off, she realised uneasily. She could only hope that Spiro wasn’t some kind of thug—a member of the Greek mafia, if there was such a thing. Maybe he wasn’t on Karthos at all, but in gaol somewhere.

But how could she tell Katie her suspicions, and burst the bubble of optimism and anticipation which encircled her? Maybe she just had to let her find out for herself, she concluded resignedly.

Camilla sighed silently as she finished the iced fruit juice.

But where on earth should their search start?

‘You enjoy?’ Kostas, the hotel’s burly proprietor, arrived to clear the table. He had a thick black moustache, a booming laugh, and he smoked incessantly. But the warmth of his welcome had been quite unfeigned, and to Camilla’s relief he spoke better than rudimentary English. The questions she needed to ask were omitted from the usual phrase books.

She nodded vigorously. ‘It was delicious, thank you. Just what I needed.’

‘To travel in this heat is not good.’

As he turned away, she said, ‘Kostas, do you know a family called Xandreou—with a son named Spiro?’

The genial smile vanished as if it had been wiped away. He looked startled, and almost apprehensive. ‘Why do you ask?’

She said lightly, ‘Oh, our families used to be—acquainted. I believe they come from here, and I’d like to see them again. That’s all.’

There was a silence, then, ‘Xandreou, you say?’ Kostas shook his head. ‘I don’t know the name. You have come to the wrong place, I think, thespinis.’

‘I don’t think so.’ She gave him a level look. ‘You’re sure you haven’t heard of them?’

‘Certain.’ He paused. ‘You are on holiday, thespinis. You should relax. Go to the beach—enjoy the sun—drink some wine. Make other friends—and don’t waste time looking for these people.’

And if that wasn’t an oblique warning, she’d never heard one, Camilla thought, watching him walk away between the tables, which were already filling up for lunch.

It was the same message she’d got from Athens: keep away from the Xandreou clan.

Everyone knows them, but they don’t want to talk about them, she thought, a prickle of wariness running down her spine. Yet, somehow, for Katie’s sake, she had to penetrate this wall of silence.

She picked up her bag, and walked to the steep outside stairway which provided an alternative access to the bedrooms.

There’d been some cards on the reception desk advertising car and motorbike hire. She’d rent a scooter and take a preliminary look round. The brochure on the island had warned that most of the best beaches were out of town, and it might be pleasant to find some deserted cove and laze around for a while before the real business of their trip began.

‘Journeys end in lovers meeting’, she thought. I only hope it’s true.

She was halfway up the steep outside staircase that provided an alternative access to the bedrooms when a voice below her said urgently, ‘Thespinis.’

Glancing down, she saw one of the hotel waiters, who’d been serving an adjoining table while she spoke to Kostas. He gave her an ingratiating smile. ‘You want Spiro Xandreou?’

‘Why, yes.’ Her heartbeat quickened in swift excitement. ‘Do you know him?’

‘Since boys.’ He touched a fist theatrically to his chest. ‘I too am a man of Karthos.’

‘Then can you tell me where to find him?’

The young man shrugged, sending a slightly furtive glance back over his shoulder. ‘Is not easy for me, you understand…’

Camilla understood perfectly. She extracted a thousand-drachma note from her wallet, and handed it over.

He whispered hoarsely, ‘He is at his house—the Villa Apollo.’

‘Is that near here?’

‘Ochi.’ He gestured towards the craggy hills which formed the island’s hinterland. ‘Is long way.’

‘Is there a bus?’

‘No bus. Nothing there—only villa. You get car, or motorbike.’ He handed her one of the cards displayed in Reception. ‘My cousin rent—very cheap.’

With you on commission, no doubt, she returned silently. But she thanked him politely, and went on up the steps.

‘Thespinis,’ he hissed again, and she paused. ‘Thespinis, whatever occur, you don’t say to boss I told you, ne?’

‘Not a word,’ she said, and watched him vanish into the hotel.

Katie was still out for the count. Camilla wrote her a brief note saying she was going to explore, and replaced the simple button-through dress she’d worn for the journey with white shorts and a sleeveless top, with her initial in red and gold embroidery over the left breast. She gathered her thick chestnut hair into a barrette at the nape of her neck for coolness, and slid her feet into comfortable canvas shoes.

She found the rental place easily enough. It was basically a dirt yard, with chickens pecking round between the scooters. Andonis, the owner, wore a grubby singlet and a three-day growth, and had the kind of gleam in his eye which made Camilla regret she hadn’t changed into something less revealing.

She was able to hire a scooter with a disturbing lack of formality, although the actual cost was rather more than she’d bargained for. She enquired about a safety helmet, and Andonis stared at her as if she were mad, then spat on the ground.

‘Karthos roads are good,’ he said flatly. Her request for a map of the island met with more luck, however. A photocopied sheet, dog-eared and much folded, was produced.

Camilla stared at the web of roads, wondering where she would find the spider.

‘I’m looking for a particular house—the Villa Apollo,’ she said. ‘Can you mark it for me?’

He whistled through the gap in his teeth. ‘You want Xandreou?’ He gave her another lascivious look. ‘So do many women. He’s lucky man.’

Well, his luck’s about to change, Camilla thought grimly. Andonis’s remark, and the grin that accompanied it, had only confirmed all her worst fears. Katie’s honourable lover was nothing more than a practised Casanova, she realised with disgust.

Andonis made a laborious pencil cross on the map. ‘Villa Apollo,’ he said. He gave her another openly appraising stare. ‘You should tell me before. Maybe I make special price for Xandreou’s woman.’

Presumably they arrived in convoys, Camilla thought with distaste.

She distanced Andonis, who was disposed to help her on to the scooter, with an icy look.

‘You’re mistaken, kyrie. I’m not—what you say.’

The grin widened, unabashed. He shrugged. ‘Not now, maybe, but who knows?’