The Silver Stain Read Online Free Page B

laughed. ‘I’ll be decent and not pass that on. No, that’s Luke Jannet, the director of Freedom or Death .’ It was immediately obvious that leather man had heard about the film. ‘He was telling me he needed experienced bikers as extras to ride replica German machines.’ He smiled tightly. ‘Looks like you’ve completely blown that gig.’
    ‘What did you say to him?’ Jannet asked, after Mavros had got into the front seat.
    ‘Don’t worry, your name didn’t come up,’ Mavros lied. He saw no reason to keep his client informed about anything not directly related to Maria Kondos.
    The driver knew his job and soon they were heading out of the centre on Mesogeion Avenue. Jannet and Alice Quincy were on their mobiles, talking intently, so Mavros decided to make his own calls.
    ‘Hello, Mother.’
    ‘Alex, dear.’ Dorothy Cochrane-Mavrou’s voice was weaker than it had been, but she was still in full command of her intellect. ‘Are you coming to Kifissia?’
    ‘Afraid not. I’m off to Crete on a case.’
    There was a pause.
    ‘Mother?’
    ‘Yes, dear. Sorry, I was thinking . . .’
    Mavros knew that tone. She had come to terms with the losses of her husband and elder son long ago, but she still had vivid memories.
    ‘Thinking what?’
    ‘Your father . . . he was in Crete during the war. He hardly ever spoke of it, but . . . but I think he saw some terrible things.’
    Mavros was surprised. He had never heard that Spyros had been on the Great Island, as it was known. In fact, he knew very little about his father’s wartime activities and the Party had hidden away the relevant papers in its archive.
    ‘Tell me more, Mother.’
    ‘I can’t, Alex. That’s all I know.’
    Mavros felt instantly deflated. The moment he thought he might find out more about his old man, the hope turned out to be illusory.
    ‘All right, I’ll talk to you soon,’ he said. ‘Is Anna there?’
    His sister wrote features for several glossy magazines, but was spending more time at home now their mother was in residence.
    ‘Yes, dear, I’ll call her. Take care.’
    ‘Yes, Mother,’ he said dutifully. ‘Hi, Anna.’ He spoke Greek for privacy, even though they normally used English. ‘I’m going to Crete on a case.’
    ‘Oh, lucky you. Whereabouts?’
    ‘Good question.’ Mavros raised a hand to interrupt Alice Quincy. ‘Where are we going exactly?’
    ‘The shoot’s in the vicinity of Chania,’ the young woman answered, stressing the first syllable rather than the last.
    ‘I heard that,’ Anna said. ‘Do you want to use the flat?’
    His sister’s husband Nondas was from Chania and had a family property in the old city.
    ‘Let me think about that,’ he replied, suspecting that a hideaway might be useful – clients, especially rich ones, often became unacceptably demanding.
    ‘Well, you know where to get the keys. Barba-Yannis is still looking after the place.’
    Mavros remembered the old man – he still wore the traditional baggy trousers and high boots. He lived in the same street and had known Nondas since he was a baby.
    ‘OK, thanks. I’ll be in touch.’
    ‘Very likely.’ Anna rang off. She was five years older and was often curt with him, regarding his work as less than respectable. The fact that she and her family had been involved in the terrorism case that had almost cost the Fat Man his life hadn’t made her change that view.
    The Mercedes joined the Attica motorway and Mavros summoned up the strength to call Niki. She wasn’t particularly bothered by the fact that he was going to Crete, having passed an unhappy holiday there when she was young. But when he said that he was going to be involved with the film, she became animated.
    ‘But Cara Parks is starring. She’s very . . . very attractive.’
    Mavros was using his hands-free, so Jannet and his assistant couldn’t hear what Niki was saying. He had to be careful, though, after what he’d said about client