Nest of Spies Read online

  As he approached the annexe, he saw a man strolling around the grounds. He looked bored and tired. Fletcher picked up a loose stone from the ground and got into a position where he could dispense with him quietly and efficiently. As the man strolled past, he hit him from behind. Before he landed on the ground, Fletcher had grabbed him around the waist, and dragged him into the bushes.

  A light was shining from the large room Fletcher had been in the previous evening, but it was empty. The room next to it, however, was occupied, but the louvred shutters were fastened over the window. Fletcher brought out his knife and deftly cut a small hole in the woodwork.

  In the room were four men. One was Rassitz, another Ahmad, but the remaining two were strangers. One of these was sitting away from the other three men, and he held Fletcher’s attention. He looked like a Greek, and a business man. His hair was sleek black, his face olive and heavily jowled. He was wearing a plain grey sports shirt and a silk tie. His hands rested on the table, displaying a number of gold rings.

  Fletcher looked at his face again. He had never seen it before, but there was something about him which appeared familiar. At the other end of the table sat the three Turks, Rassitz, Ahmad and the third man — a tall, lean, sallow-faced man, who sat staring at the Greek.

  The Greek was doing all the talking, but his voice was cushioned by the double-glazed window.

  Fletcher moved away. It wasn’t these men that he had come to see. The adjoining room was a bedroom but it wasn’t occupied. Two subsequent rooms were also empty. With mounting impatience, he moved around the building. It was with a feeling of relief that he eventually found what he had been looking for — Salunda’s room!

  He saw her still figure under a mosquito net. He crept into the room and pulled back the net. As he did so, she awoke. Quickly, he put his hand over her mouth. There was a look of horror on her face, as if she had seen a ghost.

  Slowly he removed his hand.

  ‘You!’ she gasped. ‘I thought you were…’

  ‘Dead?’ Fletcher asked, completing the sentence for her.

  She pulled a sheet around her.

  ‘They will kill you,’ she whispered desperately, ‘you must go before they find you.’

  ‘I want some answers first,’ he said quietly, but firmly.

  ‘Please go,’ she pleaded.

  ‘Who hired that dago to murder me?’ he asked grimly.

  She looked at him, a frightened expression on her face, but she didn’t answer. Her silence was pointed. It was Rassitz after all, he thought.

  He tried another tack.

  ‘Who is that man with Rassitz?’

  ‘Oh! I don’t know,’ she cried. ‘Please go.’

  But Fletcher wanted information. He hadn’t intended to tell her about Kasim, but it was going to be the only way to get her to talk.

  ‘Look, Salunda,’ he whispered urgently, ‘I don’t know what your game is, but you are in danger.’ He paused. ‘Kasim is dead.’

  She gave a stifled cry, and Fletcher quickly put his hand gently over her mouth. He could feel her shaking as she tried to control her emotions.

  ‘I am very sorry,’ he said.

  He waited patiently for her to get over the shock.

  ‘Why did Kasim go to Serifos?’ he asked.

  She looked at him pleadingly. There were tears in her eyes.

  ‘He didn’t trust Rassitz,’ she murmured.

  ‘Why not?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘Because of Kronos,’ she said quietly. She had got a grip of herself. ‘Kasim employed Kronos to watch developments on Serifos. We got a message from him saying he had found out something of importance. Unfortunately, he was killed before we talked to him.’

  ‘But why did he suspect Rassitz?’ Fletcher insisted.

  ‘Everything fitted too neatly,’ she said. ‘We thought he was being used.’

  ‘The Communists?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she half cried.

  ‘Why did Kasim go to the Syrian’s house?’

  ‘It is to be used as a meeting place.’

  ‘What is happening on Serifos?’

  She hesitated.

  ‘Oh, please go,’ she pleaded. ‘There is nothing you can do now.’

  ‘But there is,’ Fletcher quickly replied. ‘What is happening?’

  ‘Dr Sleitser has a shipment of arms. There is a cave below his camp. He has a boat there, ready to take Rassitz and his men to Cyprus.’

  ‘When?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘Tonight, during the carnival.’

  ‘What is so special about this shipment?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said dejectedly. ‘We never found out. My father was not told. That is why Kasim and I came here.’

  Father? Fletcher looked at her sharply. Who was her father? A shout from the gardens stopped him from asking. He hadn’t hit the sentry hard enough!

  Salunda looked frightened again.

  ‘Please go,’ she cried. ‘Please!’

  Fletcher hesitated. There was a lot more he wanted to know, but he valued his life. An impatient banging on the door settled the matter. He slipped out of the net and quickly scrambled through the window.

  As he darted into the bushes a Turk appeared on the veranda waving an automatic. A shot rang out, but the bullet went wide of its target. Fletcher crashed his way towards the boundary wall. Behind him lights flashed and voices shouted out orders.

  As he climbed the wall they saw him, and another shot rang out. This time the bullet smacked into the brickwork perilously close to his body. Frantically he flung himself over the obstacle and landed on the roadway. Swiftly he raced through the deserted streets until he was well clear of the area.

  When he was satisfied that he was not being followed, he cautiously retraced his steps until he found Toni. Gladly he slunk into the rear seat of the taxi and collected his thoughts together. He hadn’t got all the answers from Salunda that he had hoped, but he had learned sufficient to realise that the next twenty-four hours were going to be crucial. They had to stop Rassitz from getting to Cyprus at all costs. It would mean sailing from Serifos during daylight, but it was a risk they would have to take. He also intended to stick his neck out even further and visit Pula. He was the one man who knew all the answers, and Fletcher still had a lot of questions to ask.

  Dawn was breaking as Toni drove into Kimo Bay. Fletcher could see Mario standing on the deck of the Tonos anxiously waiting for him. He quickly arranged to meet Toni again during the heat of the day and hurried aboard. Mario immediately took the Tonos out to sea and along the rocky coastline until he found a small inlet, where an overhanging cliff provided a measure of camouflage. Only then did he question Fletcher.

  ‘What do we do now?’ he asked.

  ‘We go back to Serifos,’ Fletcher replied. ‘Dr Sleitser has a boat near his camp loaded with arms, ready to take Rassitz and his party to Cyprus.’

  ‘Rassitz,’ Mario snarled. ‘We should have killed him as I said.’

  ‘Patience, Mario. There is still time, if necessary. Sleitser and Lofer are the same person, so that is no mystery now. What we don’t know is where Veti fits into the picture.’

  ‘He is up to no good whatever he is doing,’ Mario mumbled.

  ‘That’s what worries me,’ Fletcher said.

  ‘They may even be supplying the shipment. In which case I have a feeling that Rassitz is not aware of this. Pula has been the middle man in the whole business.’

  ‘Then why don’t we visit Pula before we go to Serifos?’

  ‘I intend to,’ Fletcher said. ‘I have arranged to meet Toni at midday.’

  ‘I will come with you,’ Mario said eagerly. ‘I would like to meet this spider, Pula.’

  ‘No, Mario, you must stay with the boat.’

  Mario grunted his disapproval, but Fletcher had made up his mind. He could handle Pula on his own.

  ‘We had better get some rest,’ Fletcher said. ‘It is going to be
another long night.’

  ‘But interesting?’ Mario asked hopefully.

  ‘I don’t think you will be disappointed,’ Fletcher said, and added thoughtfully: ‘Have you ever worked for Veti?’

  ‘Yes,’ Mario said. ‘I did a small job for him last year.’ He didn’t say what the job was. ‘Why?’

  ‘Have you ever met him?’

  Mario shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘He always operates through one of his men.’

  ‘Always?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘At my level, yes.’

  ‘You wouldn’t recognise him?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Pity,’ Fletcher muttered. He had suddenly developed certain nagging suspicions, and if they were correct it made it all the more vital to talk with Pula and stop Rassitz reaching Cyprus. But there was nothing he could do until later that day, and he went below to catch up on his sleep.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Toni arrived punctually at midday and drove Fletcher into Athens. Fletcher had selected the time purposely, because it was the part of the day when the fierce sun drove most people indoors, and Pula would not be working.

  There was no sign of the Mercedes, or any police car, in the boulevard outside Pula’s apartment block, but as a precaution Fletcher entered the building from a rear entrance. He took the lift to the fifth floor and hopefully rang the bell to Pula’s apartment. But Pula was not at home. He tried the surgery door. This was locked, but through the glass panel he saw the receptionist approach and unfasten the lock.

  ‘Is Mr Pula in?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘No,’ the girl replied. ‘He hasn’t been here all day.’

  There was a note of concern in her voice which made Fletcher curious.

  ‘Were you expecting him?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes. He had a number of important patients visiting him today.’

  ‘Who?’ Fletcher asked.

  The girl looked confused.

  ‘I am not allowed to say,’ she mumbled.

  Fletcher brushed past her, and, ignoring her protests, opened the dentist’s appointment book. One name held his attention — A. Zonakas! His name on the page didn’t make Fletcher’s mind any easier.

  ‘Did this man turn up?’ he asked pointing to Zonakas’ name.

  She looked blank.

  ‘Did he?’ he asked sharply.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, startled by his tone.

  ‘When did you last see Mr Pula?’

  ‘Yesterday afternoon. He had been away all morning on his boat. He attended to some patients, but he went out again about 6 p.m.’

  ‘Did you try his apartment, this morning?’

  She blushed and turned her head away. Fletcher understood. She was not only Pula’s receptionist!

  ‘So Pula hasn’t been seen since 6 p.m. last night,’ he muttered thoughtfully. Either somebody had got to him before he could be made to talk, or he had got himself out of the way until the deal was completed. Somehow Fletcher felt it was the former.

  ‘I wouldn’t wait too long for him,’ he said meaningly. ‘In fact, I would phone the police.’

  Back in the taxi Fletcher wondered what to do next. It would be like looking for a needle in a haystack trying to locate Pula, supposing he was still alive. Even his boat was like hundreds of others. But the sands were running out fast and he hadn’t got all the answers. He had to make some quick decisions and get to Serifos.

  He cursed Spencer for being in Rhodes and decided to risk going into Inspector Ikarios’ own territory in Piraeus. His friend, the Patriarch, could be relied upon to pass on any messages, and he was above suspicion.

  Long before Fletcher and Mario reached Serifos, they saw signs that the carnival was well under way. Rockets and flares pierced the sky and a red glow hung over the town. As they entered the bay the sound of music and merriment carried out across the water.

  The harbour was packed with a variety of boats, all gaily decorated, and the only berth Fletcher could find was alongside the south pier. It was at the wrong end of the town for what Fletcher had in mind, but it allowed them to go ashore unnoticed.

  ‘Seems like one hell of a party,’ Mario grunted.

  Fletcher agreed. Whatever religious motives had once initiated the carnival belonged to history. It had now become an excuse to give vent to emotions which were being stifled during the long hot days of summer. The town looked as if it had gone wild. Bizarre, grotesque, ludicrous figures bobbed about amidst a colourful display of costumes which swirled and moved in rhythm with fast, pulsating music, which blared from the loudspeakers.

  But the crowded streets provided an ideal camouflage for Rassitz and his party to gather and sail for Cyprus. They would be slipping into the town from far and near.

  ‘It is still early yet,’ Fletcher said. ‘Rassitz and his party will be arriving in ones and twos. They will be meeting at the Syrian’s house.’

  ‘Where will they sail from?’ Mario asked.

  ‘Dr Sleitser has his boat hidden in a cave near his camp. That’s where they will make for, but they won’t leave until all the ferry boats start leaving the harbour.’

  ‘So we stop Rassitz getting to the camp?’ Mario asked.

  ‘There are too many for that,’ Fletcher replied. ‘But we must stop Salunda. Somehow we have to get her away from the rest of them.’

  ‘But what about Rassitz?’ Mario growled.

  ‘Don’t worry, Mario, I haven’t forgotten about him.’ Fletcher didn’t enlarge upon his statement and Mario didn’t question him further. He had worked with Fletcher long enough to know that Fletcher would not let Rassitz slip through his fingers.

  ‘That’s interesting,’ Fletcher said.

  ‘What?’ Mario asked.

  ‘See what has joined the fleet?’

  Mario turned and looked across the bay. Another boat had appeared, but it wasn’t lit up like the rest.

  ‘The frigate?’ Mario asked.

  ‘Looks like it,’ Fletcher said. ‘I wonder what brings her here?’ He didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Let’s get going,’ he said. ‘We’ll make our way through the town and meet on the road to Zerbib’s house, at the first olive grove.’

  Fletcher went first. He hadn’t any idea what he was going to do, but he was determined to stop Salunda from being taken to Dr Sleitser’s camp.

  When he joined the road which ran around the harbour, he had to almost fight his way through the throngs of people bent on making the most of the night. On several occasions he was grabbed and enticed to join in with the dancing. Eventually he reached the square where the crowd was even thicker. They surged and chanted as they waited for the bonfire to be lit and the procession to begin.

  Again Fletcher forced his way through the barrier. When he was halfway across he saw two men appear on a nearby hotel balcony. He recognised them immediately. It was Inspector Ikarios and his sergeant! They stood watching the scene from their vantage point.

  Desperately Fletcher joined a nearby group of revellers. The last thing he wanted was to be seen by the Inspector. There wasn’t time for explanations, even if the Inspector was prepared to listen. From the corner of his eye he watched the two men. He saw the Sergeant point out to sea. What had brought them here? he wondered. Kasim? Or was the Inspector also on to Rassitz? Was that why the frigate was anchored off the bay?

  He saw the Inspector abruptly turn and leave the balcony followed by the Sergeant, and he stopped questioning their presence. More than ever, he felt that he now had to get out of the town and find Salunda.

  With renewed determination he forced his way through the crowd. But the road out of the town was at the north end of the bay and he still had part of the harbour front to negotiate. He had almost reached his objective when two figures wearing carnival headgear jolted roughly against him.

  Patiently he tried to push them out of the way, but they hovered over him. He felt something jab into his side. He looked to see what it was, and saw the muzzle of a revolver fitted with a sile
ncer pointing at him! At the same instant a pair of hands roughly grabbed his arm.

  ‘No trouble or we kill you,’ a voice hissed from behind the headgear.

  They were right on top of him. Two stupid looking figures. For a fleeting moment he contemplated making a break for it, but the silencer decided him against it. They would shoot him and no one would hear. He would become another over-jubilant visitor who had had too much to drink.

  He allowed himself to be pushed along the front and through the curtained opening of a small shop. The room was in darkness, except for the reflected light from the street. At one end was a small counter displaying various grocery goods, but at the other stood a man staring out through a window towards the brilliantly lit pier. He had his back to Fletcher, but his sleek black hair and plain grey, cotton shirt looked familiar. He continued to stare out of the window, unconcerned at Fletcher’s arrival.

  The two men who had brought Fletcher took off their headgear. One of them was the man who had followed Fletcher from the train! One of Veti’s men! The man at the window turned and looked at Fletcher. There was no need to introduce himself, Fletcher knew who he was — Veti! But Fletcher also recognised him as the man who had been talking to Rassitz at the Villa Acancia the previous evening!

  ‘Where is the other one?’ Veti asked in a soft, but crisp voice.

  ‘Rafel is looking for him,’ one of the men replied.

  Veti nodded his head in understanding and motioned the man to take his place at the window. Fletcher could guess who they were expecting. The other man stood near the curtain opening, a revolver in his hand. Veti sat down on a small stool. He flicked his fingers and a similar seat was produced for Fletcher.

  ‘Good evening, Fettos,’ Veti said. ‘I have wondered when we would eventually meet.’

  Fletcher glanced around the drab room and at the man pointing the automatic at him.

  ‘Not quite what I expected of you,’ he said.

  Veti shrugged.

  ‘In our business, Fettos, it is all a matter of timing. Since you decided to visit Serifos on this particular evening, I can only offer you this. If it had been in Piraeus it would have been more comfortable.’