The Divided Child (44 page)

           
"I
think so."

           
"Have
them both sent up then."
 
The
man nodded and hurried off.
 
Mavros
turned back to me and said, "You realize you may still be in danger?"

           
I
nodded.

           
"I
will have a man stay at the villa tonight.
 
Be sure to lock all the doors and windows of the room where
you sleep.
 
Tomorrow we will decide
what further arrangements need to be made for your protection."
 

           
"Thank
you."

           
He
bowed his head.
 
"You are welcome."
 
Seeing my expression, he added,
"Is there something else troubling you?"

           
"Lieutenant,
about Spiro.
 
I was supposed to
meet him in the Listón, but not until nine.
 
I can’t help wondering how he happened to show up so quickly
after Mrs. Baxter was shot."

           
Mavros’s
expression lost some of its friendliness.
 
"He has said that his business concluded early,” he replied
stiffly.
 
“In any case, you have no
cause for concern.
 
On my orders,
Spiro's hands and clothing have been tested.
 
No gun shot residue was found.
 
He did not fire the weapon that wounded you."

           
"What
about the attack on Michael?” I persevered.
 
Has Spiro told you where he was when that was made?"

           
"Yes,"
he replied tersely.

           
"So?
 
Does he have an alibi?"

           
He
grimaced.
 
"Of a sort."

           
"What
does that mean?"

           
"The
one witness to Spiro's alibi refuses to confirm it."

           
"Why
not?"

           
"She
is a married woman and is not eager to have it known that she spent two days
with a man who is not her husband."

           
"That's
rather convenient, isn't it?"

           
The
expression in his blue eyes turned cold.
 
"For Spiro?
 
No, I do
not think so.
 
Now, Miss Stewart,
you will excuse me?"

           
He
strode away down the hallway to where Spiro and another man had just emerged
from the stairwell.
 
I’d meant to
tell him about seeing Demetra, but decided he was irritated enough with me at
the moment.
 
The questions about
Demetra could wait.
 
Mavros
exchanged a few words with the man I didn't recognize, then led Spiro back to
me.
 
"Spiro will drive you
home, and Takis will follow in another car.
 
Until tomorrow, Miss Stewart."

           
I
nodded in acknowledgment.
 
"Until tomorrow, Lieutenant."

           
It
was a short and mostly silent drive back to
Ithaki
, for which I was
grateful.
 
Despite the Lieutenant's
assurances, I was uncomfortable in Spiro's company and too exhausted to hide
the fact behind small talk.
 
Fortunately, Spiro was in no mood to talk either and invested all his
attention in driving very, very fast -- much to the chagrin of the policeman,
Takis, who struggled to keep pace with us in his beat-up Renault.

           
Once
we arrived at the villa, however, it was Takis who took the lead.
 
He escorted us into the darkened house,
and insisted on entering my room first to make sure that "all was as it
should be".

           
Apparently
it was.
 
Finishing his inspection
behind the curtains, inside the armoire, and under the bed, he nodded his head
and motioned for me to enter.
 
"It is okay, Miss.
 
You
will lock all doors and windows, please?"
 
I assured him I would, and he turned to Spiro.
 
"May I see the rest of the house
now, sir?"
 

           
The
two men moved off together, and, feeling thoroughly exhausted, I locked up and
began to get ready for bed.
 
I
slipped out of my clothes -- trying to ignore the reddish-brown stains on my
skirt and the jagged black hole in the sleeve of my blouse -- and pulled on a
sleeveless nightgown of thin pink cotton.
 
With everything shut up tight it was going to be a hot night.
 
I pulled the coverlet off my bed, and
folded it on the chair in the corner.
 
Then I began to climb under the sheets.

           
There
was a knock on the door.

           
Wearily
I climbed back out, crossed to the door, and opened it.
 
There was no one there but the
policeman, Takis, sitting on a chair perusing a newspaper.
 
He glanced up at me and nodded, then
returned to his reading.
 
Embarrassed, I closed the door.

           
There
was another knock followed by the sound of someone calling my name.
 
Realizing my mistake, I crossed to the
bathroom door, and called loudly into it.
 
"What do you want?"

           
"Open
the door.
 
I wish to speak with
you."

           
"Can't
it wait until morning, Spiro?"

           
"No."

           
"But
you heard my orders.
 
I'm supposed
to keep everything locked."

           
"I
have a proposition for you."

           
I
didn't answer.

           
"Christine,
please, this is ridiculous.
 
That fellow,
Takis, is right outside.
 
I simply
wish to speak with you a few minutes."

           
He
had a point.
 
Reluctantly I undid
the latch.
 
"All right.
 
What's so important?"

           
His
expression of irritation transformed into amusement as he gazed up and down at
me.
 
Suppressing a surge of
irritation, I asked coolly, "Is something funny?"

           
He
shook his head.
 
"No, that
night dress is quaint, but also charming."

           
"Spiro,
I'm tired, I've had a lousy evening, and I want to get to bed.
 
Is there anything besides my nightgown
you want to discuss?"

           
He
shrugged.
 
"I have been
thinking.
 
I do not like the way
events have been proceeding.
 
I
think you and I should exchange rooms tonight.
 
That way, if you receive any visitors, I shall be the one to
greet them."
 
His voice was bland,
but a dangerous light burned in his brown eyes.

           
"It’s
nice of you to offer,” I said uneasily, “but visitors shouldn’t be a problem
with a policeman right outside my door.”

           
“The
boy also had a policeman outside his door, and he has disappeared.”

           
I
flinched at the reminder.
 
Michael
had been missing almost a full day.
 
Thinking of that somehow made my worries about switching rooms seem
petty.
 
“All right, Spiro, I’ll do
it,” I said, “but only if we tell Takis what we’re planning.
 
If he’s going to guard me, I want him
guarding the right room.”

           
Spiro
nodded his acquiescence.

           
Takis
was at first reluctant to sanction the change, but after he had searched
Spiro’s room and examined all the locks, he finally gave us the okay.

           
Yet
despite the policeman’s thorough inspection of the room, I was decidedly uneasy
as I climbed into Spiro's large bed.
 
Perhaps Mavros was right and I didn’t have to worry about Spiro.
 

           
But
what about Demetra?

Chapter Twenty-Two

           
I
slept fitfully that night, woken several times by scary dreams I couldn’t
remember.
 
So I was more than a
little groggy the next morning when the sound of banging furniture and raised
voices finally penetrated my consciousness and sent me stumbling out of bed.

           
"
Dammit,
Skouras, where is she?
"

           
"Remove
your hands from me!
 
You are the
one who should be answering questions, not I!
 
You have broken into my house --"

           
"Michael's
house!"

           
"I
do not think the police will consider the difference," Spiro said coldly.

           
"Why
were you creeping into her room at this hour?"

           
"What
business is it of yours?"

           
My
nervous fingers finally managed to undo the lock, and I swung open the
door.
 
Geoffrey and Spiro both
turned at the sound.

           
"Christine!"
 
Geoffrey exclaimed, releasing his hold
on Spiro and rushing forward.
 
“Are
you all right?"

           
"I'm
fine," I assured him, noticing how very haggard he looked.
 
Spiro gazed at us speculatively.
 
For a moment I tried to think of some
way to salvage the situation; then I realized it probably wasn’t possible.
 
Geoffrey was in no mood to be discrete,
and to be honest, neither was I.
 
I
was sick and tired of pretending.

           
"Where
the bloody hell have you been?" Geoffrey demanded in a low voice, his
hands reaching out to seize mine.
 
"I was about to go mad with worry.
 
First I find him --” he jerked his head in Spiro’s
direction, “-- stealing into your room, then you aren’t in your bed, or
anywhere else for that matter."

           
"I
slept in Spiro’s room last night," I said, too distracted by the look in
his eyes and the warmth of his fingers to pay attention to my words or to
realize they were prone to misinterpretation.

           
He
abruptly released my hands.
 
“I
see,” he said tightly.

           
“No,
you don’t,” I began, ready to clarify the situation.
 
Then I remembered the nature of his reunion with
Elizabeth.
 
What right did he have
to explanations?
 
Biting my lip, I
fell silent.

           
"You’ve
not yet explained what you’re doing here," Spiro reminded him.
 
"Your presence seems rather
suspicious after the attack upon Christine last night."

           
Geoffrey
swung around at that.
 
"What
attack?" he exclaimed.

           
"You
do not know?” Spiro said skeptically.
 
“Someone took a shot at her."

           
Geoffrey
turned back to me and his gaze focused on the small, rumpled bandage on my
upper arm.
 
His eyes slowly rose to
my face.

           
"It's
nothing, really," I said quickly.
 
"Just a scrape."

           
"The
woman standing next to Christine was not so fortunate," Spiro
remarked.
 
"The bullet struck
her in the chest."

           
Geoffrey
paled.
 
"What's that fool Mavros
about?
 
Why doesn't he have you
safe under lock and key?"

           
"I
assure you, Mr. Redfield," said a voice from the doorway.
 
"I am as concerned with Miss
Stewart's safety as you are.
 
That
is why I assigned one of my men to guard her."

           
All
three of us turned to face Lieutenant Mavros.
 
"Well, he’s not doing a very good job of it, is
he?" Geoffrey snapped.
 
"Where is he?"

           
"I
had hoped you might tell me.”
 
The
Lieutenant’s tone was grave.

           
"Sorry,”
Geoffrey snapped.
 
“I haven't seen
him."

 
          
"Spiro?"

           
Spiro
frowned.
 
"He is not in the
hallway?"

           
Mavros
shook his head.
 
"Nor anywhere
in the house.
 
I've had the
housekeeper looking."