The Orpheus Descent (12 page)

‘Can you think of any reason she might have for wanting to disappear like this?’

‘
Wanting?
’ Jonah echoed. ‘You think this is something she
wanted
?’

Ruth acted as if he hadn’t spoken. ‘There’s no evidence of any crime. That’s a good thing,’ she reminded him. ‘In most cases like this there’s a straightforward explanation.’

Cases like this.

‘What about the text messages?’

‘What about them?’

‘She can’t have sent them herself. Someone else must have.’

Ruth was too professional to let him see what she thought of that. ‘We’ll look into it. Were there any issues in your relationship? Any problems?’

‘Everything was fine.’

‘When was the last time you saw her?’

‘Six weeks ago. I took her to the airport.’

‘It’s a long time to be apart.’

Jonah tried to read her expression, but it was perfectly neutral.

‘It happens every summer. She has to dig, I need to tour.’

‘Can’t be easy.’

‘No.’

‘Did you keep in touch?’

‘Every day.’

Another note. ‘Did she talk about anything that was worrying her. Conflicts with her colleagues, her private life?’ Jonah shook his head. ‘Any arguments?’

He was still shaking his head when he realised the last question was about him. ‘No,’ he said emphatically.

Her eyebrows arched up as she made another note. ‘It’s not uncommon for couples to argue.’

Jonah didn’t answer.

‘You drove all the way from Berlin, overnight. Any particular reason for the hurry?’

‘I wanted to see her.’

‘You must have been very tired.’

‘I slept on the way.’ What was she trying to say? That he might have missed Lily because he’d nodded off? He felt the anger rising inside him and tried to keep it in check.

She waited, watching him to see if he’d say more. When he didn’t, she leaned forward and wrote something down. It seemed to take a long time.

‘That’s enough to be going on with.’ She stood. ‘We’ll inform Interpol, who’ll pass it on to the Italian police. They’ll conduct the investigation. In the meantime, we’ll arrange a press conference to try and raise some awareness.’

She showed him the door.

‘Someone out there knows where your wife is. We just have to reach them.’

Another Sunday, another drive packed into the hire car, part of Adam’s apparent plan to visit every ancient column in Greece. This time Jonah let Richard take the front seat, while he squeezed in the back. Charis sat sideways on his lap, her bare legs folded against his, her chest inches from his face.

On the radio, Richard had managed to find the only station in Greece that played classical music, much to the others’ disgust. Charis, in particular, teased him relentlessly.

‘I mean, it all sounds exactly the same. I bet you don’t even know what this song’s called. You’re just being pretentious.’

‘You don’t have to know what something’s called to like it.’

‘Plato would say you have to know something’s proper name to understand its essence,’ Adam said from the other side of the car. Charis reached across and flicked him on the nose.

‘Stuff Plato.’

‘It’s called the “Queen of the Night”,’ Jonah said. ‘From
The Magic Flute
. By Mozart.’

Richard twisted around in his seat. ‘Ten points to Jonah. I didn’t think this was your thing.’

‘Quite the opera buff, aren’t you?’ said Charis. She pinched his cheek.

‘My mother’s a singer,’ he said. It made him think of lying in bed, listening to the songs come through the floor as she practised in the sitting room. But Julian had started telling a long story about a girl at school they’d called the queen of the night, and no one cared.

The temple was a let-down, just a few blocks overgrown with grass and weeds, surrounded by a low chain-link fence. There was no guard. They climbed over the fence and poked around for a few minutes, but even Adam couldn’t make much of it.

Charis put her hands on her hips and surveyed the ruins. ‘Adam, darling, you’ve found the one thing that actually makes digging look interesting.’

‘Good view, though.’ Julian had wandered to the far edge of the site, where steep cliffs fell to the waves.

‘The book says there’s a sea cave underneath,’ said Adam. ‘There’s a local legend it used to be an entrance to Hades.’

‘Oh, fab.’

They’d brought a coolbox. Julian took out a can of beer, opened it, and poured a good measure over the ruins.

‘You can’t do that.’ Richard looked over his shoulder, in case a caretaker should appear. ‘It’s a site.’

‘Libation to the gods.’ Julian splashed another slug over the ruins, then took a deep swig for himself. ‘Anyone else?’

Jonah took one. In the heat, dust and salt in the air, it tasted like nectar. He offered the can to Lily.

‘Want some?’

‘Thanks.’

Adam was still staring over the edge of the cliff. ‘Does anyone want to see about this cave?’

‘I will.’ Jonah jumped up and went over. The cliffs were steep but not sheer, with plenty of fissures in the rock to hold onto.

‘You’ll break your necks,’ said Richard. ‘Or drown.’

‘Getting up’ll be harder than getting down,’ Julian added. ‘You’ll end up marooned.’

‘Like Philoctetes,’ said Charis.

‘I’ll go first.’ Jonah set his beer carefully on a column base. He sat down on the cliff edge, then pivoted around and lowered himself down. The rocks were hot under his fingers, but not as steep as they’d looked from above, and his arms were strong from the digging.

The cliff ended in a rocky shelf, a couple of feet wide, before a short drop into the sea. He couldn’t see a cave, but a few yards along a sea channel cut through the rock and disappeared into the cliff. Not far off, he could hear a roar like a motorway.

Pebbles and grit rattled down the cliff. He looked up to see a pair of bare legs and battered boots almost on top of him. Lily slithered down the last few feet and landed off-balance. Jonah grabbed her arm.

‘Steady. You don’t want to prove Richard right.’

‘I want to see it.’

She pushed past to the end of the ledge and lay on her stomach. Leaning out over the sea channel, she craned her head to look in.

‘It definitely goes somewhere.’

Jonah lay down next to her. The channel disappeared into the cliff, a low dark mouth, invisible inside.

‘That’s too small to be a cave.’

Another clatter of stones. Adam had come down. He wiped his hands on his jeans.

‘Is it there?’

Lily got out of the way so Adam could see. Jonah rolled aside to give him more room. Behind him on the ledge, Lily had stood up.

‘I want to see where it goes.’

She raised her arms and pulled off her T-shirt; kicked off her boots, unzipped her shorts and stepped out of them. She stood there in her underwear, blushing a little, defying him to look. She had little pink bows on her bra straps.

She padded to the edge of the rock. A wave surfed through the channel. Adam looked up, then hurriedly down again.

‘What about currents?’ said Jonah.

‘You can wait here, if you like,’ said Lily.

Jonah glanced at Adam, both trying not to stare at Lily. Without a word, they both stripped to their boxers.

The moment they jumped in, all awkwardness disappeared. The narrow channel squeezed the waves dangerously fast: Jonah took one in the face and was slapped straight into Lily. He bobbed up and felt the roof graze his head; he opened his mouth in surprise, and took in a lungful of water. Lily’s arm snaked around his neck and pulled him forward. Another wave broke over him, blinding him, but he kicked on.

He felt the darkness cool his shoulders as he passed under the rock. He put out an arm, expecting to meet a dead end, but all he felt was water. The snare-drum crash of the waves was gone, replaced with a low murmur all around him like distant laughter. Lily had let go. He opened his eyes.

The channel had opened into a long, high cave. By some trick of nature, sunlight from outside flowed through and reflected onto the walls, throwing rippling lines of light across the stone. The whole cave glowed golden blue.

They trod water and drank in the wonder of the place. No one spoke. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, Jonah saw the walls arching into space above them like a cathedral.

Lily kicked across to the far side. Little splashes echoed around the cave. She reached up and put her hand in a small hollow.

‘This was carved by someone. You can still see the chisel marks.’ She felt around the niche. ‘Perhaps there was a statue here.’

‘It’s a sacred place.’ Adam’s voice was distant, distracted. He was staring into the depths of the cave, where the walls tapered to darkness.

Jonah tried to imagine ancient hands patiently chipping away the wet rock, hour after hour in the sea-lit gloom. Time was fluid here. When something brushed his hand, for a wild moment he imagined it was a sea nymph, or the ancient carver returning with an offering for the goddess.

Fingers twined with his. He looked across and saw Lily floating at arm’s length, her hair slicked back, her face shining. In the instant his eyes met hers, something passed between them that left Jonah suddenly struggling for breath.

‘This is unbelievable,’ Adam called from further up the cave. ‘Open your mouths. Drink it.’

Still holding his hand, Lily let herself sink until the water reached her nose, then opened her mouth and let it flow in.

She bobbed up, gasping. ‘Try it.’

Jonah parted his lips, letting the water trickle over his tongue. It was cold and clear, just a faint hint of salt around the edges.

‘It’s fresh.’ Jonah glanced at the niche in the wall again, feeling the strangeness of the place beginning to bend reality. ‘But—’

‘It must be the mouth of an underground river,’ said Adam. He had his back to them, staring into the darkness. ‘I wonder how far back it goes.’

‘Don’t,’ said Lily.

‘I won’t go far.’

He dived forward and disappeared. The splashes of his strokes slowly receded into echoes. Lily and Jonah were left alone.

Afterwards, he couldn’t say whether she came to him, or he to her, or both to each other. All he remembered was the heavy magic of the cave pushing them together, the sparkling ripples and the drone of the waves and her body suddenly wrapped around his. Their lips touched. Her body was cold as the water, as good as naked, but all Jonah felt inside was a golden warmth turning him to light.

They’d stopped kicking to keep afloat. They sank, oblivious, until the water covered them, until they felt the sandy floor of the cave underfoot. Jonah pushed off. They broke the surface, gasping and laughing, staring at each other with wonder.

From the depths of the cave, they heard a fluttering sound which firmed into the rhythm of swimming. They pulled apart, though she kept her foot crooked around the back of his leg.

Adam came into the light, breathing hard. ‘It goes back for miles.’

He looked between them, suspicion chasing across his face. ‘Are you OK?’

Jonah couldn’t speak. All he wanted was to taste Lily again.

‘Should we come back with torches?’ Lily swept her hair back. ‘Explore?’

‘It’s better in the dark. Floating there, listening to it. You should come.’

Jonah took Lily’s hand. ‘We should get back.’

The next day was Sunday. Jonah spent it in the flat, staring at the phone and willing it to ring while he tapped out hopeless messages on his laptop. There were so many ways to contact people, and he tried them all. He e-mailed, he posted, he messaged – and those generated more e-mails, replies, questions, sympathy. But the only thing that mattered was answers – and there were none of those.

He logged into their bank account, looking for any transactions that might hint where Lily had gone. It hadn’t been touched since he took out money in Berlin to pay for petrol. He rang Sibari – three times to the hotel, twice to the lab. The lab was shut, their day off; the hotel answered, but the receptionist spoke no English. He left messages for Richard.

Speaking to the hotel reminded him again of the boat he’d seen. With the computer open in front of him, it occurred to him that there were probably people on the internet who obsessed about that sort of thing. A search for NESTIS YACHT quickly proved him right.

In a short while, he’d established that the yacht belonged to a Greek called Ari Maroussis, heir to a fortune courtesy of a company called Ophion Shipping. For a few minutes, it felt as though he was being flooded with information. Wikipedia articles, magazine profiles, the occasional news story about the company, speculation on succession. Ari’s father was rumoured to be in poor health, holed up in his villa on the Aegean island of Spetses. But even in the vastness of the World Wide Web, the flow soon dried up; he found himself rereading the same few facts. None of the boat spotters had reported any sightings of NESTIS in the last couple of months. And nothing suggested why Ari would have even known Lily existed.

What did it mean? Probably nothing. He shut the laptop and lay on the sofa. He didn’t read, didn’t eat, didn’t watch TV, didn’t even listen to the radio in case he missed the phone. He floated, waiting for a call or a key in the door that would make the world start again. He got her photo down from the bookshelf and stared at it until it blurred. Lily in the sun, her hat tipped back, red earth smudged on her cheek.
Where are you?
he asked the photo. But though it might be worth a thousand words, it only said the same thing over and over.

It was like all the come-downs after all the gigs he’d ever played – the greyness in the world, the emptiness inside – but a thousand times worse. So he managed it the way he always had, and poured another drink.

Monday morning he was back at the police station. The conference room was smaller than he’d expected – and still three-quarters empty. When you saw these things on the news, they always looked packed: flashguns, TV lights and questions firing nonstop at the desperate family. Here, there was one unattended video camera, and half a dozen journalists standing at the back cracking jokes. A trestle table with a microphone stood facing them, below the Metropolitan Police logo.