as he saw Marler staring up at the bridge of the Venus III . He followed his gaze and sucked in his breath. Standing by the side of the bridge was a girl with a mane of black glossy hair, centre-parted. She had good bone structure and wore a polka-dot white dress with a thin belt hugging her slim waist. She held her right hand over her thick eyebrows, shielding herself against the sun. It was the girl in the 'photo Masterson had taken unawares.
Marler stared back with a dry smile. Then he raised his own hand and gave her a mocking little wave. Her mouth twitched. She waved back, then vanished. Nick also stood staring at where she had appeared, the cloth poised above the bonnet.
'Christina Gavalas,' he said in a low voice. 'That is very strange.'
'I want to have a word with her,' Newman said grimly.
A gangplank linked the vessel's stern with the jetty. Newman approached it, followed by Marler at a more leisurely pace. His movements were always slow and deliberate. Except in an emergency.
Newman reached the gangplank when three seamen came round the corner of the deck. They wore white sleeveless sweat shirts, blue pants. In their late twenties they were heavily built and two carried marlinspikes. One of them shouted at Newman in Greek, brandishing his marlinspike.
'What did he say?' Newman asked Nick, although he'd understood every word.
Nick laid a warning hand on Newman's arm. 'He says you are not allowed aboard. This is private property.'
'Tell him to get stuffed. I only wanted to invite the girl to join me for a drink.'
'I think we had better leave,' Nick warned again. He called out in Greek. 'We are just leaving. My passengers were admiring your beautiful boat.'
The Greek waved his marlinspike and the three crewmen walked out of sight. Marler was staring beyond the boats up at the apartment buildings above the small harbour. He saw the sun reflect off something, like one flash of a semaphore.
'Get into the car quick!' he ordered Newman. 'No bloody argument.' He pulled open the rear door and dived inside as Newman joined him. 'Nick,' Marler continued, 'move us out of here fast.'
Nick reacted instantly. For a large man he moved with surprising agility. He was behind the wheel when the shriek of several ships' sirens blasted over the wall. As the noise continued Nick started the engine. There was a heavy thud. At the same moment they heard a crackle of glass splintering behind them. The bullet passed between the heads of Marler and Newman, passed on through the open window of the front passenger seat beside Nick.
6
Nick accelerated along the narrow platform, braked, turned up the track leading to the main road. He glanced in the rear-view mirror. Newman and Marler both had their heads turned. The rear window had crazed, had a small hole in it.
'He fired from the top of one of those apartment buildings,' Marler remarked.
'We go up there, yes?' Nick enquired. 'We find the bastard before he can get away?'
'No!' replied Newman. 'Turn left. Head back for the town hall square. Find us somewhere we can talk. And somewhere you can hide the car.'
'I know a bar. Close to it is a bombed site. They will not find the car if I park there.'
'Do it,' said Newman. He turned to Marler. 'Is that why you tried to get me down off the wall?'
'Of course, my dear chap.' Marler was as calm as though he'd experienced an everyday happening. He adjusted the display handkerchief in his breast pocket. 'You normally catch on quicker. You had an absorbed look when you ran
up those steps. Stood on that ledge like a target in a shooting gallery. Is it the heat, by any chance?'
His tone was mocking. He reached into his pocket and perched a pair of horn-rimmed glasses on his nose. They have seen me once. I don't think they'll recognize me so easily next time.'
'Those glasses make you look exactly like Michael Caine.'
'Flattery will get you nowhere. The lenses are plain glass.'
'You were expecting that shot?'
'Something like it. The
Marler stared back with a dry smile. Then he raised his own hand and gave her a mocking little wave. Her mouth twitched. She waved back, then vanished. Nick also stood staring at where she had appeared, the cloth poised above the bonnet.
'Christina Gavalas,' he said in a low voice. 'That is very strange.'
'I want to have a word with her,' Newman said grimly.
A gangplank linked the vessel's stern with the jetty. Newman approached it, followed by Marler at a more leisurely pace. His movements were always slow and deliberate. Except in an emergency.
Newman reached the gangplank when three seamen came round the corner of the deck. They wore white sleeveless sweat shirts, blue pants. In their late twenties they were heavily built and two carried marlinspikes. One of them shouted at Newman in Greek, brandishing his marlinspike.
'What did he say?' Newman asked Nick, although he'd understood every word.
Nick laid a warning hand on Newman's arm. 'He says you are not allowed aboard. This is private property.'
'Tell him to get stuffed. I only wanted to invite the girl to join me for a drink.'
'I think we had better leave,' Nick warned again. He called out in Greek. 'We are just leaving. My passengers were admiring your beautiful boat.'
The Greek waved his marlinspike and the three crewmen walked out of sight. Marler was staring beyond the boats up at the apartment buildings above the small harbour. He saw the sun reflect off something, like one flash of a semaphore.
'Get into the car quick!' he ordered Newman. 'No bloody argument.' He pulled open the rear door and dived inside as Newman joined him. 'Nick,' Marler continued, 'move us out of here fast.'
Nick reacted instantly. For a large man he moved with surprising agility. He was behind the wheel when the shriek of several ships' sirens blasted over the wall. As the noise continued Nick started the engine. There was a heavy thud. At the same moment they heard a crackle of glass splintering behind them. The bullet passed between the heads of Marler and Newman, passed on through the open window of the front passenger seat beside Nick.
6
Nick accelerated along the narrow platform, braked, turned up the track leading to the main road. He glanced in the rear-view mirror. Newman and Marler both had their heads turned. The rear window had crazed, had a small hole in it.
'He fired from the top of one of those apartment buildings,' Marler remarked.
'We go up there, yes?' Nick enquired. 'We find the bastard before he can get away?'
'No!' replied Newman. 'Turn left. Head back for the town hall square. Find us somewhere we can talk. And somewhere you can hide the car.'
'I know a bar. Close to it is a bombed site. They will not find the car if I park there.'
'Do it,' said Newman. He turned to Marler. 'Is that why you tried to get me down off the wall?'
'Of course, my dear chap.' Marler was as calm as though he'd experienced an everyday happening. He adjusted the display handkerchief in his breast pocket. 'You normally catch on quicker. You had an absorbed look when you ran
up those steps. Stood on that ledge like a target in a shooting gallery. Is it the heat, by any chance?'
His tone was mocking. He reached into his pocket and perched a pair of horn-rimmed glasses on his nose. They have seen me once. I don't think they'll recognize me so easily next time.'
'Those glasses make you look exactly like Michael Caine.'
'Flattery will get you nowhere. The lenses are plain glass.'
'You were expecting that shot?'
'Something like it. The
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