Nemesis of the Dead (16 page)

Well, time was running out and he was still no nearer to finding what he was looking for than when he arrived. He had to get the evidence he needed while he could still nail his villain and that meant in the next two days, three at most. Plan A – a watching brief – had not worked out as it should have. Time to deploy Plan B, and for that he needed a bit of assistance and a lot of co-operation.

It was always risky, involving members of the public. They were, for the most part, undisciplined and unpredictable but he couldn’t see any other way. One small ray of hope – his quarry might not yet be on to him as he had feared. The attempts on his life had turned out to be nothing at all to do with the current case, so maybe he still had that element of surprise. He guessed he would soon find out.

It was Wednesday morning when Ambrose Dobson spotted his golden opportunity. He had left Marjorie having a lie in and gone down to sit under the vine-covered pergola to write more letters, this time claiming excessive compensation from the insurance company for the theft of his hairpiece. Even though it had mysteriously reappeared, hanging from the door handle, it had clearly been manhandled by the unprincipled scoundrel who had stolen it and it was, of course, ruined and quite unwearable. His bald head sweated badly in his panama and it was good to sit in the shade without it. He smiled greedily. With the sort of sum he had in mind, he could order one of the really expensive wigs, custom-designed and handmade from superior quality hair for a perfect fit. He had no intention of repeating the embarrassment of the last couple of days and he was entitled to recompense for the stress and trauma he had suffered. A lifetime in the insurance business enabled him to word his claim in terms guaranteed to screw the maximum settlement out of them. It was with this objective uppermost in his mind – making someone pay – that he glanced down to the seashore and saw, in that instant, a golden opportunity for settlement, of a different and much more vindictive nature.

D
iana pulled hard on the oars and felt the sea breeze ruffle her hair as the boat slid swiftly through the sparkling water. She was heading for her favourite Cave of Nymphs to sunbathe and look forward to what she would do to Sidney when he arrived. He was a great guy and she guessed he was pretty stuck on her. That felt real good. OK, so plenty of guys back home were stuck on her but with Sid, it was genuine and uncomplicated. Most of all, she knew he wasn’t influenced by her background; he couldn’t be because he hadn’t a clue what her background was. She thought briefly of Cuthbert. He knew only too well, none better. She guessed the time was rapidly approaching when he would demand a serious discussion with her. It would be about money. It was always about money. Sometimes she thought money was nearly as important to him as his damned plant experiments.

By the time Diana disappeared out of sight around the rocky headland that provided Hotel Stasinopoulos with natural protection from the sea, Ambrose had crammed his panama on his bald head and scurried down to the landing stage where the second boat was moored. His heart was pounding pretty rapidly but nothing he couldn’t control – nothing to worry about. He took some deep breaths. He had to hurry because Foskett would be there any minute with his bottle of wine and his pathetic tongue hanging out, like a lovesick puppy. Ambrose sneered smugly to himself as he untied the boat and prepared to climb aboard. The sordid little plumber would not be getting his hanky-panky today. Because he, Ambrose, was going to beat him to it. He had promised himself he would get the little tart and it had to be before Saturday, when they all went their separate ways. But even in his wildest, most sadistic fantasies, he hadn’t dreamed a chance like this would present itself. All alone with her, miles away from possible interruptions or some interfering idiot hearing her screams and rushing to her aid. And the beauty of it was, she couldn’t say a word about it afterwards, because he held all the aces. He had the power to put a stop to her extravagant lifestyle overnight and he’d make sure she knew it. If she didn’t co-operate, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell Gordon how she was putting it about behind his back like a bitch on heat. He would even maintain that Diana had made disgusting advances to him and probably all the other men in the hotel. And if he wasn’t much mistaken, the old fool was not the kind of man who would tolerate being made a public laughing-stock. With his money, thought Ambrose enviously, he could simply ditch the bitch and buy himself another younger, more exclusive model.

‘I say, Dobson, old chap.’

Ambrose jumped violently at the sudden voice of the ‘old fool’ in question who had emerged from a clump of cypress and was standing on the jetty behind him. His heart thumped even harder and he had to gasp to catch his breath. His head began to spin, dizzily.

The professor was holding a picnic basket. ‘Sorry if I startled you, but I wondered if you wouldn’t mind doing me a favour. Thing is, Diana has gone off down the coast to sunbathe.’ He winked. ‘Likes to do it in the nude, so she goes where people can’t spy on her. Silly girl went without her lunch.’ He indicated the basket of food. ‘Ariadne just gave it to me and wants me to go after her with it. I thought, since you’re going out yourself, you wouldn’t mind just dropping off Diana’s lunch on your way. Can’t miss her, her boat will be beached outside the cave she likes to use.’ He grinned. ‘Might have to shut your eyes and whistle when you get there, though. What about it? D’you mind? I’d go myself but you’ve got the only other boat and anyway, I’ve got quite a bit of work on at the moment.’

‘Er … yes, I suppose so. Give it here,’ growled Ambrose ungraciously. He had recovered from the shock and was thinking fast. His first instinct had been to tell the absurd old moron to bugger off, especially after the appalling way he had insulted him regarding his digoxin, which Gordon seemed to have conveniently forgotten. But on second thoughts, there was no need for this to upset his plans. Gave him a legitimate reason to go looking for the woman, in fact. He just had to hurry before blasted Foskett arrived and offered to take the food himself.

‘Many thanks, old man. Jolly decent of you.’ The professor handed the basket into the boat and loped off, his spindly legs lurching in ungainly strides across the quayside in the direction of his
dulce domum
in the olive groves.

Ambrose Dobson grabbed the oars and without a backward glance began to pull on them vigorously. He was excited now at the prospect of what he would soon be doing to the delectable Diana, the nice little tricks he had planned for that beautiful body, and the sweat began to trickle down his neck from beneath his panama hat. So vivid were his imaginings that he rowed several strokes before he realized he wasn’t moving. He swung round to see what had happened and saw that someone had retied the rope to its mooring.

‘Where are you going Ambrose?’ Marjorie stood above him on the jetty, her arms folded and her lips in a grim line. She knew exactly where he was going. He wasn’t the only one to have witnessed Diana’s and Sidney’s regular excursions to their love tryst. She liked Sidney and her only thoughts on the matter were that she hoped he wouldn’t end up badly hurt. Then she had seen Ambrose from her window, scuttling down to beat Sid to the boat and chase after Diana like the bloated, rutting, farmyard hog she knew him to be. His regular trips to the knocking-shop were one thing. This was altogether different and very much nastier and she was not about to let it happen.

Ambrose was furious. Damn and blast the woman! She must have crept up while he was fiddling with the bloody picnic basket. Well, he wasn’t going to let this stop him. He might not get another chance.

‘I thought you were asleep! Go back to your room.’

‘Ambrose, I don’t think you should be taking out a rowing boat on your own. Your heart isn’t up to it.’

‘I shall do exactly as I choose. Go away when I tell you!’ The cocktail of pent-up sexual excitement and the frustration of being continually thwarted made him reckless. He reached out to free the rope and as he did so, Marjorie hopped nimbly into the boat and sat down.

‘Well, if you insist on this foolishness, Ambrose, I have no choice but to come with you. Someone has to keep an eye on you. What if you embark upon some physical activity that is too much for you and you have a heart attack?’ She looked him full in the face and her unyielding gaze left him in no doubt that she knew exactly what physical activity he was planning. Her glare defied him to argue – challenged him to invent a reason why she couldn’t accompany him. He looked at her swollen lip and wanted desperately to hit her again. He would seriously have to consider getting rid of her when they were back in Hampshire if she was going to adopt this rebellious attitude every time he gave her a simple order. She could go and live with her pansy son. Let him keep her. In the meantime, there was little he could do short of throwing her bodily out of the boat into the water. He stood up.

‘Now where are you going, dear?’ she asked sweetly.

‘Back to the hotel. I’ve decided I don’t want to go out in the boat after all.’

‘Well, that’s a shame, Ambrose, because I quite fancy a trip round the bay now and you obviously feel fit enough to row. The doctor said a little gentle exercise was good for you.’ She lifted the lid of the basket. ‘Oh, how nice. A picnic. Are we to eat it or are we taking it to someone else, dear?’

He realized then how she had found out what he was up to. She had overheard his conversation with Gordon. There was nothing for it but to go along with the charade or he would look guilty and ridiculous and there was no way he was going to do that.

‘You’ll regret this, Marjorie.’ He began to row.

Sidney was frustrated, too. He had gone to fetch a bottle of wine from Yanni and to ask if it was all right for him to borrow the boat again, when Maria had collared him. He was obviously keen on exploring the coast, she said, so she would give him some tips on the best places to visit. For the next twenty minutes, she had regaled him with a comprehensive tourist guide to all the beauty spots along the shores of Katastrophos. The white sand and pebbles made very clear, turquoise sea, she said, and some of the best swimming and snorkelling was to be had at the north of the island where there were many quiet coves. She even went and hunted out an old mask and snorkel left behind by a previous traveller. She was such a nice lady and Sid’s sensitivities were such that he couldn’t bring himself to be impatient with her, so by the time he’d thanked her, collected his wine from Yanni and sprinted down to the jetty, not only was he running late but the boat had gone. His face fell. Somebody had beaten him to it, although he couldn’t imagine who, because as far as he knew, he and Di were the only people who had used the boats since they arrived on the island. He looked at his watch. By now, she’d be wondering where he was. Very likely she had the right hump at being stood up and wouldn’t want to see him again. He tried to look on the bright side. Maybe whoever had borrowed the boat wouldn’t keep it long and there would still be time for him to go and meet her. Forlorn, he sat down on the jetty and waited.

After a couple of hours, Diana had to concede that Sidney wasn’t coming. At first she was peeved, then she realized something must have happened and she knew it would need to be pretty important to keep him away. She couldn’t even ring his mobile to see if he was all right. Life on this goddam island was worse than being suspended in space – at least astronauts had some decent communications. It was all very fine for Cuthbert. He was so hung up on his plants, he didn’t notice that every time there was a storm they were virtually cut off from civilization for days on end. It could be downright dangerous, especially when someone got sick. She still couldn’t forget how that poor kid, Ellie, had nearly died. It had really shaken her up. There had been something about Ellie that connected with her – the vacuous, empty-headed smile, peeping like a frightened animal from beneath that sparse ginger fringe and her funny, pinched face peppered with freckles. It was spooky, indefinable, as if they’d met before someplace – almost as if she had known her for years. She went for a brief skinny dip then put her bikini back on. No point in hanging around without Sid and she was getting hungry. She must have left her picnic lunch in Ariadne’s kitchen.

When Diana Gordon sculled lazily into the landing stage, her arms and legs bronzed and gleaming, Sid was still waiting. As soon as he spotted her, his glum face lit up with his lighthouse smile and she had the usual urge to hug him, press her body against him and feel him respond, but she guessed it wouldn’t be smart right there, in full view of the hotel.

‘What the hell happened to you?’ she said instead.

Sid grabbed the rope she threw him and tied it to the mooring bollard. ‘I’m really sorry, Di. Everything went wrong. Maria kept me talking and it was difficult to get away without being rude to her. You know what she’s like once she gets going. Anyway, by the time I got down here, someone else had pinched the boat.’ He reached out a hand to help her. She took it and jumped nimbly up on to the jetty, brushing his cheek briefly with her lips and fondling his behind as she passed him.

‘That’s real strange. All the vacations I’ve spent here, hardly anyone has taken the boats out except me.’

‘Doesn’t the Prof ever keep you company in your Cave of Nymphs? It crossed my mind that he might have got bored in the olive grove and decided to come and find you. I haven’t seen him around all day.’

Diana laughed. ‘No way. Cuthbert would never waste good plant-hunting time on me. The only other person who might have taken the boat is Yanni.’

‘Yanni?’

‘Sure. Sometimes he rows Ariadne down to the Sacred Grotto of St Sophia.’

‘I didn’t know St Sophia had a sacred grotto. I’ve never noticed it when I’ve been rowing round the coast.’

Diana dug him in the ribs affectionately. ‘It isn’t all lit up with flashing lights like Vegas, you dummy. It’s well hidden. You wouldn’t see it from a boat. Ariadne likes to go there with flowers and charms and all that stuff. According to her, St Sophia can handle every emergency from plagues to earthquakes and every human ailment from warts to sterility.’

‘Sterility, eh?’

A brief shadow fell across Diana’s face and then was gone. ‘Yeah. That old thing. She believes her gifts to the saint will help Maria get pregnant.’

‘Well, it wasn’t Yanni who took the other boat out. He was there while I was talking to Maria. He gave me this wine.’ Sid held up the bottle, only a third full now.

Diana grinned. ‘I get it. Drowning your sorrows. What about mine?’

‘I’m sorry, Di. I’d been really looking forward to our … well, you know … our picnic. Been thinking about it all day.’

‘Me too.’ She linked her arm through his. ‘Come on, tiger. I’ll get changed and we’ll finish the wine on the terrace.’

He stuck out his bottom lip like a sulky toddler. ‘OK. But it won’t be the same, will it?’

She giggled, amused at his obvious disappointment. ‘Never mind, baby, there’s always tomorrow. And guess what I have planned for you then …’ She leaned across and whispered something graphically obscene in his ear. Sid cheered up immediately.

On their way across to the hotel, Diana glanced back at the jetty. ‘So where’s the other boat now?’

‘Dunno. Whoever took it hasn’t come back, yet.’

It was evening before they realized something was wrong.

‘Anybody seen Marjie and Old Misery Guts? Not like them to miss dinner.’ Sidney was ravenous. He and Diana had snatched a dangerous but irresistible half-hour in his room and it had stimulated every part of him, including his appetite. He helped himself to a plateful of rice and some chicken that had been festering all day in one of Ariadne’s black cauldrons. It was swimming in olive oil with slices of lemon floating on top, but Sid decided it didn’t taste half bad washed down with plenty of the hookey wine.

There were just four of them for dinner. Nurse Tina Stephens had taken food to her room as usual, seeming to find it even more painful to be near DI Dawes and now uncertain of her fate following her deliberate attempt to brain him with a statue. The professor was out in the dusky olive groves in his illuminated miner’s helmet, darting about like a demented firefly.