Mission of Murder, page 7
He remembered that he was still holding an automatic and slipped the weapon into his pocket. He fumbled with the knot in the handkerchief behind her head, and when he released it she thankfully spat a second, screwed-up, handkerchief out of her mouth.
She choked for a moment and then managed to speak.
“Th — thanks, Simon. I — I thought I was going to choke.”
Larren smiled. “Just take it easy for a moment. You can talk when you get your breath back.”
He had to pull away the flimsy sheet in order to release the cords that secured her hands and ankles and found that she was completely naked underneath. He guessed that Savino and Co. had simply rolled her up in a sheet from her own bed when they had carried her out of her hotel room. The smooth, nude lines of her limbs and the swelling of her breasts made his pulse race, and he was glad when she rolled over on to her face so that he could untie her. Right now he wanted to get away from the villa before Christos could return with reinforcements, and he did not welcome any distractions.
His fingers wrestled deftly with knots and although they were pulled tight he soon had them undone. Carla rolled back to face him and sat up slowly. She was still trembling as she rubbed her sore wrists and her dark eyes gazed nervously into his face. For the first time he realized how very dark and liquid those soft eyes really were, they were wide and exciting beneath black, glistening lashes.
She said huskily, “What’s it all about, Simon? Why was I kidnapped? Why are you here?”
Larren realized that she was most probably unaware of her father’s present project and consequently had no idea of why she had been kidnapped. He also realized that if it was at all possible then he still had to act the part of the uncomprehending lover.
He made a vague gesture with his hands and answered.
“I don’t know. I went back to your hotel because I wanted to talk to you again and found you missing. I knew that Savino was highly jealous about tonight and I thought that he might have turned nasty, so I came over here to see if he did know anything about it. It seems that I was right — but I never expected all this gunplay.”
“But you had a gun of your own!”
There was a note of suspicion in her tone and Larren was glad he had an honest answer.
“I took it away from the man they left to watch the front door,” he said. And then to forestall any further questions he added quickly, “Look, we’d better get you dressed and get out of here, just in case the man who got away decides to come back.”
The thought had obviously not occurred to Carla for her body gave an abrupt shudder at the idea. “Try the wardrobe,” she said shakily. “There might be a dressing-gown or something in there.”
Larren moved around the bed towards the wardrobe and pulled open the door. There were a few gaily-coloured men’s shirts on the hangers and other odd items of beachwear on the shelves. There was no dressing-gown but there was a large bathrobe which he took down and offered to Carla.
“How about this? It’ll cover you decently until I can get you back to your hotel.”
Her composure was beginning to recover and she managed a smile. “That will do fine,” she said. She stood up and turned her back to him, and he had to suppress the urge to kiss the nape of her neck as he slipped the robe around her.
Carla turned to face him and as she did so her gaze rested for a moment on the ugly sight of the dead man on the floor. She looked away quickly and her face was white.
Larren said quietly, “Go and wait for me in the next room while I try and find out who he is. I won’t be a minute.” He tried to inject distaste into his tone as he spoke, it was imperative that she did not realize how cold and efficient he could be.
Carla was only too willing and obediently allowed him to lead her outside. He switched on the light in the next room and made her sit down while he returned to the bedroom. He half closed the door behind him so that she could not watch him work and swiftly went through the large man’s pockets. He discovered another automatic and a wallet full of 100 drachma notes, but there was nothing to reveal the man’s identity. Scowling he left the corpse and crossed over to Savino.
Savino was in his shirtsleeves but his jacket hung on the back of a nearby chair; Larren went through it and in the inside pocket he unearthed a second full wallet. Again it was stuffed with crisp red 100 drachma notes, but this time there was something else of far more interest. The wallet contained a photograph of a young man in his late twenties. Larren stared at the dark handsome features of the smiling man and knew that he had seen that face before. The face was southern European, probably Italian, and as the word Italian flickered through Larren’s mind he knew who the man was. The picture had appeared in several recent papers and there was no doubt in Larren’s mind that this was Paola Castel: Carla Valedri’s brother and Angelo Valedri’s son, and also the chemist who had discovered the antidote for the killer drug Ameytheline.
What was it doing in Savino’s pocket? Where was the connection between Savino and Castel?
Larren turned the snapshot over and saw some faded pencil marks on the back. He read them with difficulty; one word and a combination of letters and numbers. ROMA A9986B. He stared at it thoughtfully. Was it a telephone number? Or a Rome car number? Quite suddenly he knew that it must be the number of Castel’s car — the car in which the young chemist had died, in an accident that might not have been an accident.
Could Castel’s death have been murder? And could Savino or one of his colleagues have been responsible?
Larren knew that it was a strong possibility, but there was no time to think about it now. He was beginning to realize that Savino and his friends must have been waiting for someone else to arrive and take Carla off their hands, for they could not have kept her here at the villa indefinitely. And whoever they were waiting for could arrive at any time. Also Christos could return, and he had no idea of the whereabouts of the man named Dimitri who owned this villa and whom he assumed must also be mixed up in the night’s events. Grimly he slipped the snapshot of Castel into his own pocket and then rejoined Carla.
She stood up unsteadily.
“Who — who was he, Simon?”
“I don’t know. I looked through his pockets but I couldn’t find anything. He was a bit messy and—” He let the sentence trail off sheepishly as though he had been unable to face the task and had given up halfway through.
Carla took a step towards him and he moved forward and put his arms round her. “I’ll take you home now,” he said. “We can talk about it later.”
She nodded and he kept one arm tightly around her as he led her out of the back door of the villa and hurried her along the beach. She stumbled several times in the soft sand as they made their way back to his car and he kept repeating words of encouragement in her ear. However, by the time they reached the parked Renault the worst effects of her ordeal were wearing off and she was able to smile and complain about the cold draught that was circling up below the loose bathrobe.
They were both silent as they drove back into Athens and Carla pressed close up against Larren’s body as he continued to keep one arm about her shoulders. He handled the car expertly with one hand and soon they were again nearing the centre of the city. It was nearing dawn now and Larren found that he was having difficulty in keeping his eyes open. Long nights were nothing new to him, but tonight had been particularly hectic and he would be glad of an opportunity to relax.
At last the lighted frontage of the Hotel Tripolis appeared again and Larren wearily stopped the car. The night clerk was still dozing behind his desk in the foyer and they walked past him to the lift. They were silent all the way up to the second floor and then moved quietly to Carla’s room. Carla switched on the lights and Larren closed the door.
Without a word Carla moved to the small cabinet and poured two stiff whiskies. She handed one to Larren and they both drained the glasses. Then she said huskily, “That’s better, Simon. I feel more like a woman now. Being carted about in the nude and bundled up in a sheet isn’t exactly the best way of maintaining your dignity.” Her face darkened and she added, “Some of the remarks those swine made made me feel unclean just to listen to them.”
Larren said, “I’m sorry. I should have got there earlier.”
The smile came back. “Please don’t apologize. I’m more than grateful that you came when you did.”
Larren said slowly, “What did Savino and his friends really want? There seemed to be too many men ready to help him for it to be merely a question of his own personal jealousy.”
Carla looked blank. “I don’t know, Simon. I just don’t know.”
“How much do you know about Savino? How long have you known him?”
Carla moved closer and she trembled a little as she answered. “Not now, Simon; please don’t ask questions now. I’m so tired and confused that I just can’t think straight.”
“All right.” He was aware of the compelling magnetism of her body and could not resist the appeal in her eyes. He went on slowly. “Perhaps I’d better go and let you get some sleep.”
Her hands caught at his shoulders. “No, Simon. Please don’t go — not tonight.”
His eyes were drawn irresistibly into the folds of the robe where her soft breasts rose and fell in the dark shadows. He raised his gaze to meet her eyes and said quietly, “What about that clerk who might throw you out tomorrow?”
She pulled his mouth down to her lips and the rising urgency of her own desires flowed into his body to fire the flames of his own lust. “To hell with him,” she gasped as she strained against him. “Tonight I need you, Simon — in more ways than one.” Her mouth was fierce and demanding, blending and moving against his own. He answered her kiss and then all control was lost and there was no retreat.
Somehow she wriggled her shoulders clear of the bathrobe and let it fall to the floor. She pulled his hand to her breast and clamped it hard against her. Now the frightened woman who had merely wanted him to stay as a means of protection was gone and the aroused nymphomaniac was in her place.
“You can’t leave me now, Simon. Not tonight. You can’t! You can’t!”
Larren could feel the swelling of her breast under his palm with the hot pulse of her heartbeat vibrating through his fingers, and he knew that she was right. When he was at last able to free his mouth from her kisses and speak he said hoarsely, “I’m not leaving you, Carla. Tonight you’re mine.”
CHAPTER 8: KYROS ISLAND
When Larren awoke the next morning, or rather late the next day, Carla still lay in his arms in the wide bed. He must have stirred and disturbed her as he awakened for she opened her eyes in almost the same moment and lay looking up at him. There was a half smile on her lips and obvious traces of contentment and satisfaction in the way she snuggled closer against him. Her raven black hair spread in shining waves over the pillow and her dark eyes regarded him inquiringly. Larren said softly, “Well, what now?”
Her fingers lightly stroked his bare chest.
“What do you mean by what now?”
“What happens now? We must do something about last night — go to the police or something.”
Her smile faded a little and she stopped stroking his chest. “I don’t like that idea,” she said doubtfully. “I don’t want my picture in the papers and all Athens talking about how I was kidnapped in the nude. If I had been kidnapped with some clothes on I wouldn’t mind so much — but this way the papers will write it up from a sexy angle and I shall be the subject of a lot of dirty little thoughts in a lot of sordid little minds. I’d rather forget it.”
Larren tried to appear shocked. “But a man was killed last night!”
“I know.” She pulled herself up slightly so that she was half sitting and half leaning over him. “That’s another reason why I don’t want the police involved.” She smiled almost sadly and went on. “I’m sorry, Simon, but I haven’t got a very pure reputation in Athens, and a lot of people will be very cynical when we explain that you were more or less defending my honour. They believe I sold my honour long ago. Our story could be very easily misbelieved and you might be in serious trouble.”
Larren would have been quite happy to accept that view and be done, but he had to say the sort of thing that would be expected of a bewildered lover who more by luck than judgement had been able to rectify an unpleasant situation.
With a well-feigned note of dithering he said vaguely, “But surely we can’t just forget it.”
Carla smiled and kissed him gently. “I don’t see why not, darling. I think they came very much the worst off so we can hardly harbour any thoughts of revenge, and as I don’t see how the police can trace anything back to us there is no reason why we should stir up trouble for ourselves.”
Larren tried to sound dubious. “I suppose you’re right,” he offered hesitantly.
“Of course I’m right.” Carla kissed him again and this time the kiss was a long one; a soft, warm, pleading kiss that was calculated to turn any man’s thoughts from any subject under the sun — except one.
Larren allowed her to have her way and gave himself up to a few moments of sweet luxury. He was aware that he might have been in quite an awkward spot if Carla had been agreeable to calling in the police, but he had been fairly sure that he was on safe ground. Carla was her father’s daughter, and even though she may not know the details of his present operation it was a certainty that he had instilled her with a deep distrust of the police.
When at last they relaxed and she was settling back in the hollow of his arm again Larren decided that it was time that he took the initiative.
He said thoughtfully, “If you don’t want to call the police, Carla, don’t you think that it would be a good idea for you to leave Athens until Savino has had plenty of time to cool down. After last night he’ll probably be more enraged at you than ever and he might try to get at you again. Isn’t there somewhere that you could go and hide up for a spell?”
As he spoke he wondered whether he had made his gamble too soon, but it was too late now. He kept his eyes averted and tried to appear casual as he waited for her answer.
“As a matter of fact there is.” She murmured the words as though thinking out loud. “My father owns the ideal place. He has a villa on a small island in the Aegean — Kyros.”
Larren hardly dared to hope as he replied. “In that case I should definitely advise you to take a short holiday out there until this thing blows over. Your friend Savino doesn’t strike me as the kind of man to accept a blow to his pride without some attempt at retaliation.” He paused there for a moment and then added slowly. “The only drawback is that if you do leave Athens then I shall have no chance of ever seeing you again.” He let a note of doubt creep into his voice as though he was already beginning to regret the suggestion that she should leave, and again he dared not look at her directly as he waited for her to speak. Any small hint of eagerness might arouse her suspicions now, and there were too many lives dependent upon persuading her to take him out to Kyros for him to risk that; lives that were yielding all over Europe to the horror of the red death.
She took a long time in answering, and Larren felt a cold, sinking sensation in his stomach. Had he rushed her too soon and allowed her to sense how important it was for him to reach her father’s island? He wasn’t sure, but slowly he became aware that she was watching him closely and waiting for him to turn his head.
Slowly, casually he let his head roll to one side and faced up to her. She was smiling seductively. “Why don’t you come to Kyros with me, Simon? It’s lovely out there on the Aegean; there’s nothing to do except swim in the sea and laze on the beach in the sun. I wear the tiniest bikini and occasionally you could make love to me on the sand.” Her eyes gleamed with a subtle challenge. “Would you like that, Simon?”
Larren smiled and stretched up one arm to encircle her bare shoulders. He pulled her closer and tasted her lips as he answered. “I’d love it. I’ve got another three weeks to spend in Greece and right now they can keep the Acropolis for all the other tourists. I’ll settle for Kyros — and you.”
The kiss became fiercer as she began to respond and her ever-hungry body began to tremble against him with desire.
“Prove it to me, Simon,” she moaned through seeking lips. “Prove it to me now.” Her voice rose desperately. “Now, Simon! NOW!”
The island of Kyros was a two-and-a-half-hour journey by a fast motor launch from the small boat harbour at Athens, and it was late in the afternoon when Larren saw its steep white cliffs rising from the pure blue of the Aegean for the first time. Above the cliffs the long grass on the gentle slopes was a dusty olive-green, broken by rugged scatterings of boulders and bare rock, and on the highest point overlooking the sea a pinnacle of natural rock, bleached by sun, wind and spray, rose like an ivory shrine to the searing blue sky.
The launch was the property of Carla Valedri who stood at the wheel with her legs splayed to maintain her balance and her black hair streaming freely in the slipstream. She was wearing a pair of bright red shorts and a brief matching sun-top which she had donned in the small cabin of the launch as soon as she came aboard. Larren, in casual slacks and open shirt, was standing just behind her and admiring the way she handled the speeding craft at full throttle.
Carla glanced back at him and gestured with one hand towards the pinnacle of rock high on the cliff top. “See that, Simon,” she shouted happily. “That’s the sanctuary of Poseidon; there are steps cut in the landward side of that pointed rock where the priests of ancient Greece once climbed up to throw down offerings to the sea god. It’s pretty small compared to the other temples and sanctuaries scattered along the coastline of the mainland, but it’s worth a visit. I’ll take you up there tomorrow.”
By the time she had finished speaking they were almost underneath the sheer white cliffs and she swung the launch round in a creaming white circle that put the island on their starboard bow instead of directly ahead. They raced along the line of the cliffs for a few moments and then abruptly the high rock face dipped and gave way to a perfect little bay; there was even a yellow-gold beach and a small jetty.
