Memories of Midnight (21 page)

The more Rizzoli thought about the phone call, the more pleased he was. He had Constantin Demiris running scared. That would make it a lot easier to handle him. Sunday. He had two days in which to lay his plans Rizzoli knew he had to be careful. He was being followed wherever he went. Fucking Keystone Kops, Rizzoli thought contemptuously. When the time comes, I'll dump them.

Early the following morning, Rizzoli walked to a public telephone booth on Kifissias Street and dialed the number of the Athens State Museum In the reflection in the glass Rizzoli could see a man pretending to look in a shop window, and across the street another man in conversation with a flower vendor. The two men were part of the surveillance team that was covering him. Good luck to you, Rizzoli thought 'Office of the curator. Can I help you?' 'Victor? It's Tony.' 'Is anything wrong?' There was sudden panic in Korontzis' voice 'No,' Rizzoli said soothingly. 'every thing's fine. Victor, you know that pretty vase with the red figures on it?' 'The Ka amphora.' 'Yeah. I'm going to pick it up tonight.' There was a long pause. 'Tonight? I... I don't know, Tony.' Korontzis' voice was trembling. 'If anything should go wrong . . .' 'Okay, pal, forget it. T was trying to do you a favor. You just tell Sal Prizzi you don't have the money, and let him do whatever . . .' 'No, Tony. Wait. I. . . I . . .' There was another pause 'All right.' 'You sure it's all right, Victor? Because if you don't want to do it, just say so, and I'll head back to the States, where I don't have problems like this. I don't need all this aggravation, you know. I can . . .' 'No, no. I appreciate everything you're doing for me, Tony Really I do. Tonight will be fine.' 'Okay then. When the museum closes, all you have to do is substitute a copy for the real vase.' "The guards check all packages out of here.' 'So what? Are the guards some kind of art experts?' 'No. Of course*not, but . . .' 'All right, Victor, listen to me. You just get a bill of sale for one of the copies and stick it with the original in a paper bag Do you understand?' 'Yes. I... I understand. Where will we meet?' 'We're not going to meet. Leave the museum at six o'clock. There will be a taxi in front. Have the package with you. Tell the driver to take you to Hotel Grande Bretagne. Tell him to wait for you. Leave the package in the cab. Go into the hotel bar and have a drink. After that, go home.' 'But the package . . .'

'Don't worry. It will be taken care of.' Victor Korontzis was sweating. 'I've never done anything like this, Tony. I've never stolen anything. All my life . . .' 'I know,' Rizzoli said soothingly. 'Neither have I. Remember, Victor, I'm taking all the risks, and I don't get a thing out of it.' Korontzis' voice broke. 'You're a good friend, Tony. The best friend I ever had.' He was wringing his hands. 'Do you have any idea when I will get my money?' 'Very soon,' Rizzoli assured him. 'Once we pull this off, you won't have any more worries.' And neither will /, Rizzoli thought exultantly. Never again.

Two cruise ships were in the port of Piraeus that afternoon and consequently the museum was filled with tourists. Usually Victor Korontzis enjoyed studying them, trying to guess what their lives were like. There were Americans and British, and visitors from a dozen other countries. Now, Korontzis was too panicky to think about them He looked over at the two showcases where copies of the antiquities were sold. There was a crowd around them, and the two saleswomen were busily trying to keep up with the demand Maybe they'll sell out, Korontzis thought hopefully, and I won't be able to go through with Rizzoli's plan. But he knew he was being unrealistic. There were hundreds of replicas stored in the basement of the museum The vase that Tony had asked him to steal was one of the museum's great treasures. It was from the fifteenth century bc, an amphora with red mythological figures painted on a black background. The last time Victor Korontzis had touched it had been fifteen years earlier when he had reverently placed it inside the case to be locked up forever. And now I'm stealing it, Korontzis thought miserably. God help me.

Dazedly, Korontzis went through the afternoon, dreading the moment when he would become a thief. He went back to his office, shut the door, and sat down at his desk, filled with despair / can't do it, he thought. There has to be some other way out But what? He could think of no way to raise that kind of money He could still hear Prizzi's voice. You'll give me that money tonight, or I'm going to feed you to the fish. Do you understand? The man was a killer. No, he had no choice A few minutes before six, Korontzis came out of his office The two women who sold replicas of the artifacts were beginning to lock up 'Signomi,' Korontzis called. 'A friend of mine is having a birthday. I thought I'd get him something from the museum.' He walked over to the case and pretended to be studying it There were vases and busts, chalices and books and maps. He looked them over as though trying to decide which to choose Finally, he pointed to the copy of the red amphora. 'I think he'd like that one.' 'I'm sure he will,' the woman said. She removed it from the case and handed it to Korontzis 'Could I have a receipt, please?' 'Certainly, Mr Korontzis. Would you like me to gift-wrap this for you?' 'No, no,' Korontzis said quickly. 'You can just throw it in a bag.' He watched her place the replica in a paper bag and put the jjtreceipt inside. 'Thank you.' 'I hope your friend enjoys it.' 'I'm sure he will.' He took the bag, his hands trembling, and ^walked back to His office He locked the door, then removed the imitation vase from the one bag and placed it on his desk. It's not too late, Korontzis thought I / haven't committed any crime yet. He was in an agony of [,indecision. A series of terrifying thoughts ran through his head. a / could run away to another country and abandon my wife and ' children. Or I could commit suicide. I could go to the police and Lfell them I'm being threatened. But when the facts come out I will be ruined. No, there was no way out. If he did not pay the money he owed, he knew that Prizzi would kill him. Thank God, he thought, for my friend Tony, Without him, 1 would be a dead man He looked at his watch. Time to move. Korontzis rose to his 'r'feet, his legs unsteady. He stood there, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself. His hands were wet with perspiration ^ . He wiped them on his shirt. He put the replica back in the paper flbag, and moved toward the door. There was a guard stationed | at the front door who left at six, after the museum closed, and "iftnother guard who made the rounds, but he had half a dozen rooms to cover. He should be at the far end of the museum now Korontzis walked out of his office, and bumped into the guard He gave a guilty start 'Excuse me, Mr Korontzis. I didn't know you were still here.' 'Yes. I... I'm just getting ready to leave.' 'You know,' the guard said admiringly, 'I envy you.' If he only knew. 'Really? Why?' 'You know so much about all these beautiful things. I walk around here and I look at them and they're all pieces of history, aren't they? I don't know much about them. Maybe some day you could explain them to me. I really . . .' The damn fool would not stop talking. 'Yes, of course. Some day. I would be happy to.' At the other end of the room, Korontzis could see the cabinet containing the precious vase. He had to get rid of the guard.

'There . . . there seems to be a problem with the alarm circuit in the basement. Would you check it out?'

'Sure. I understand that some of the things here date back to . . .'

'Would you mind checking it out now? I don't want to leave before I know that everything is all right.'

'Certainly, Mr Korontzis. I'll be right back.'

Victor Korontzis stood there, watching the guard move through the hall, heading toward the basement. The moment he was out of sight, Korontzis hurried over to the case containing the red amphora. He took out a key, and thought, I'm really going to do it. I'm going to steal it. The key slipped out of his fingers, and clattered to the floor. Is this a sign? Is God telling me something? Perspiration was pouring out of him. He bent down and picked up the key, and stared at the vase. It was so utterly exquisite. It had been made with such loving care by his ancestors, thousands of years ago. The guard was right; it was a piece of history, something that could never be replaced.

Korontzis shut his eyes for an instant and shuddered. He looked around to make sure no one was watching, then unlocked the case and carefully lifted out the vase. He removed the replica from the paper bag and placed it in the case where the genuine one had stood.

Korontzis stood there, studying it a moment. It was an expert reproduction but to him it screamed Fake. It was so obvious. But only to me, Korontzis thought, and to a few other experts. No one else could ever tell the difference. And there would be no reason for anyone to examine it closely. Korontzis closed the case and locked it, and put the genuine vase in the paper bag with the receipt.

He took out a handkerchief and wiped his face and hands. It was done. He looked at his watch. Six ten. He had to hurry. He moved toward the door and saw the guard coming toward him.

'I couldn't find anything wrong with the alarm system, Mr Korontzis and . . .'

'Good,' Korontzis said. 'We can't be too careful.'

The guard smiled. 'You're right about that. Leaving now?'

'Yes. Goodnight.'

\

'Good night.' The second guard was at the front door, getting ready to leave He noticed the paper bag and grinned. 'I'm going to have to check that out. Your rules.' 'Of course,' Kdtontzis said quickly. He handed the bag to the guard The guard looked inside, took out the vase and saw the receipt 'It's a gift for a friend,' Korontzis explained. 'He's an engineer.' Why did I have to say that? What does he care! I must act natural 'Nice.' The guard tossed the vase back into the bag, and for one terrible instant Korontzis thought it was going to break Korontzis clutched the bag to his breast. 'Kalispehra.' The guard opened the door for him. 'Kalispehra.' Korontzis went out into the cool night air, breathing heavily and fighting nausea. He had something worth millions of dollars in his hands, but Korontzis did not think of it in those terms What he was thinking was that he was betraying his country, stealing a piece of history from his beloved Greece and selling it to some faceless foreigner He started down the steps. As Rizzoli had promised, there was a taxi waiting in front of the museum. Korontzis moved toward it, and got in. 'Hotel Grande Bretagne,' he said He slumped back in his seat. He felt beaten and exhausted, as though he had just been through some terrible battle But had he won or lost?

When the taxi pulled up in front of Hotel Grande Bretagne, Korontzis said to the driver, 'Wait here, please.' He took a last look at the precious package on the back seat, then got out and quickly walked into the lobby of the hotel. Inside the door he turned and watched. A man was entering the taxi. A moment later it sped away So. It was done. I'll never have to do anything like this again, Korontzis thought. Not as long as I live. The nightmare is over.

At three o'clock Sunday afternoon, Tony Rizzoli walked out of his hotel and strolled toward the Platia Omonia. He was wearing a bright red check jacket, green trousers and a red beret. Two detectives were trailing him. One of them said, 'He must have gone shopping for those clothes at a circus.' At Metaxa Street, Rizzoli hailed a taxi. The detective spoke into his walkie-talkie. 'The subject is getting into a taxi heading west.' A voice replied, 'We see him. We're following. Return to the hotel.' 'Right.' An unmarked grey sedan pulled in behind the taxi, keeping a discreet distance. The taxi headed south, past Monastiraki. In the sedan the detective seated next to the driver picked up the hand microphone 'Central. This is Unit Four. The subject is in a taxi. It's driving down Philhellinon Street . . . Wait. They just turned right at Peta Street. It looks like he's headed for the Plaka. We might lose him in there. Can you have a detail follow him on foot?' 'Just a minute, Unit Four.' A few seconds later, the radio crackled back to life. 'Unit Four. We have assistance available If he gets off at the Plaka, he'll be kept under surveillance.' 'Kala. The subject is wearing a red check jacket, green trousers and a red beret. He's hard to miss. Wait a minute. The taxi is stopping. He's getting out at the Plaka.' 'We'll pass on the information. He's covered. You're clear Out.'

At the Plaka, two detectives were watching as the man emerged from the taxi 'Where the hell did he buy that outfit?' one of the detectives wondered aloud They closed in behind him and began to follow him through the crowded maze of the old section of the city. For the next hour he strolled aimlessly through the streets, wandering past tavernas, bars, souvenir shops and small art galleries. He walked Anaphiotika and stopped to browse at a flea market filled with swords, daggers, muskets, cooking pots, candlesticks, oil lamps and binoculars 'What the hell is he up to?' 'It looks like toe's just out for an afternoon stroll. Hold it There he goes.' They followed as he turned into Aghiou Geronda and headed for Xinos restaurant. The two detectives stood outside, at a distance, watching him order The detectives were beginning to get bored. 'I hope he makes a move soon. I'd like to go home. I could use a nap.' 'Stay awake. If we lose him, Nicolino will have our ass.' 'How can we lose him? He stands out like a beacon.' The other detective was staring at him 'What? What did you say?' 'I said . . .' 'Never mind.' There was a sudden urgency in his voice 'Did you get a look at his face?' 'No.' 'Neither did I. Tiflo! Come on.' The two detectives hurried into the restaurant and strode up to his table They were looking into the face of a complete stranger.

Inspector Nicolino was in a fury. 'I had three teams assigned to follow Rizzoli. How could you lose him?' 'He pulled a switch on us, Inspector. The first team saw him get into a taxi and . . .' 'And they lost the taxi?' 'No, sir. We watched him get out. Or at least we thought it was him. He was wearing a wild outfit. Rizzoli had another passenger hidden in the taxi, and the two men switched clothes We followed the wrong man.' 'And Rizzoli rode away in the taxi.' 'Yes, sir.' 'Did you get the license number?' 'Well, no, sir. It it didn't seem important.' 'What about the man you picked up?' 'He's a bellboy at Rizzoli's hotel. Rizzoli told him he was playing a joke on someone. He gave him a hundred dollars. That's all the boy knows.' Inspector Nicolino took a deep breath. 'And I don't suppose anyone knows where Mr Rizzoli is at this moment?' 'No, sir. I'm afraid not.'