Will Adams - The Lost Labyrinth

The girl must have seen the shift in power; her sobs grew louder, more despairing. Her fear infected Edouard. He felt beads of sweat on his forehead, and trickles running coldly down from his armpits. 'I'm sorry,' he said, lowering his eyes submissively. 'I didn't mean anything.'

For a moment he feared his apology wouldn't work, but then the intensity of the moment seemed to slacken, and just as suddenly it was gone altogether. 'Maybe you're right,' shrugged Mikhail. 'We do have business to discuss.' He picked up his trousers, fished out a small steel key, tossed it across.

Edouard's hands were shaking as he struggled to unlock the cuffs; but finally they snapped open and the girl grabbed a sheet to cover herself, hurried sobbing to the bathroom. 'I'll get her clothes,' said Edouard, heading back out onto the landing. Boris and his men had just arrived, were taking seats around the coffee table, lighting cigarettes. He gave them a sour look, for they must have heard his confrontation with Mikhail. But you needed a thick skin to work for the Nergadzes; you needed to know who was boss. 'Maybe we should give her something,' suggested Edouard, when he went back up. 'To keep her mouth shut.'

'She won't talk,' said Mikhail.

'How can you be sure? I mean, what would your grandfather say if this got out?'

'I didn't do anything to her that she didn't agree to. Ask her if you like.'

Edouard knocked on the bathroom door. 'I've got your clothes.' The door opened a fraction, her hand shot out and grabbed them. He stood there, all too aware of Mikhail watching him, until the door opened again and she emerged, her face washed but pale, her hair brushed, holding the rip in her blouse.

Edouard put an arm around her shoulder and led her towards the bedroom door, but Mikhail stepped in front of her. He had his white jeans in his hand, and now he pulled his leather thong belt free from its loops. The girl's face crumpled at the sight. 'No,' she begged. 'Please no.'

Mikhail smiled reassuringly. 'Don't be alarmed. I just wanted to make a point to our friend Edouard here. He thinks you're going to tell people what happened tonight. But you're not, are you?'

'No. No. I swear I'm not.'

'Not even if they try to force you?'

'No.'

'Why not?'

'Because you know where I live,' she said, as if repeating lines. 'Because of what you'll do to me and my parents and my brother if I do.'

'Exactly,' said Mikhail. And he stepped out of her way.

Edouard steered her out the door, to the stairs and down. 'Where do you live?' he asked.

'Piraeus,' she said, her whole body shuddering wildly, as though she'd just come in from a blizzard.

'I'll get one of the guys to drive you.'

She grabbed his arm. 'Can't you take me? Please.'

Mikhail emerged onto the landing, now dressed in the white jeans, a maroon silk shirt and a black leather trench-coat. Boris rose to his feet. 'Great to see you again, boss,' he said. 'It's been too long.'

'Who are those two with you?'

'Davit and Zaal,' said Boris, indicating them in turn. 'They're good men. I chose them myself.'

'You brought the money?'

Boris nodded and cleared space on the coffee table, then laid a large steel case flat upon it. He entered combinations into the two locks, then opened it up and turned it around for Mikhail to see. There were fat bundles of euros within, every denomination from 50s to 500s, more cash than Edouard had ever seen. Even the girl gave a little gasp.

'How much?' grunted Mikhail.

'Four million,' said Boris.

'I asked for ten.'

'This is all we could arrange at such short notice. Besides, you know how negotiations are. If you show up with ten million, then ten million is what they'll-'

'Is that what my grandfather told you to tell me?'

'Yes.'

There was a moment of silence as Mikhail absorbed this response. It was like watching a land-mine that had just made an unexpected noise. 'Fine,' said Mikhail, finally. 'It will do.' He walked downstairs and over to the case, took out a bundle of 50-euro notes, rolled it up into a cylinder. Then he went to the girl, hooked a finger into her bra, tucked the bank-notes inside. 'Buy yourself something pretty,' he told her. 'A dress or a necklace or something. You can wear it for me when you come back tomorrow.'

'Come back?' she asked, appalled.

'You will, you know.' He turned to Edouard. 'Women always fall for their first man. It's in their genes or something.'

'I'm not coming back,' she protested. 'I'm never coming back.'

'That's what they all say,' he grinned. 'But then they come back after all. They just can't help themselves.' He turned to the others. 'Davit. I want you to drive her into town. Find her a taxi. Make sure she's well taken care of. Then come back here. We've got work to do.'

'Yes, boss.' He came across and took the girl by her elbow.

'What about my books?' she wailed. 'Can't I at least have my books back?'

'You can pick them up tomorrow.'

'But you promised. They're not even mine. They're Demetria's.'

'I said tomorrow,' said Mikhail. 'Get here around five. We'll be busy until then.'

'But tomorrow I'm going to-'

Mikhail's face darkened. 'Don't make me come looking for you, Olympia,' he warned. 'I will if I have to; but you'll regret it, I promise.' He watched Davit escort her out the door, then turned back to Edouard and the others. 'Well, then,' he said, rubbing his hands together. 'Perhaps we should get down to some business.'

'You're kidding,' said Knox dazedly. 'Petitier had found the golden fleece?'

'That's not what I said,' replied Nico carefully. 'And it's not what he said either. At most, he implied that he'd found it, or something to do with it. He left himself plenty of room to back away from it, if he so wished. He could have put it down to a misunderstanding. He could have claimed it was pure coincidence that those were the only two words on the seals that we could read.'

'He was a Minoan scholar. No one would have believed him.'

'No,' agreed Nico. 'Which is precisely why I agreed to step aside so that he could give his talk.'

'And Augustin knew about this?'

'I can't say for sure, but it's certainly possible. You see, I-' He broke off as the BMW bumped onto the kerb and pulled up outside an imposing-looking building.

'Evangelismos Hospital,' said Charissa economically. 'You all go on in. I'll find somewhere to park.'

Nico shook his head. 'I have to leave you, I'm afraid. I need to go to the hotel, tell all our delegates about tomorrow's revised programme.' He pulled an anxious face. 'You do understand?'

'Of course,' said Knox. 'But maybe we could meet up later? For dinner, say?'

'Excellent idea. Do you know the Island?'

'No.'

He kissed his fingertips. 'It's in Exarchia. Charissa knows where. The best seafood in Athens, and not too expensive. Not for what it is, at least. I'll book us a table, if you like.'

'Sounds perfect. What time?'

He checked his watch. 'Nine-thirty, say. That should give me enough time. If I can find a taxi, at least.'

'You two go on in ahead,' said Charissa. 'I'll drop Nico at the hotel, then come back.'

Knox and Gaille made their way through an archway into the staff car park. A TV crew and a couple of journalists were having a cigarette and a laugh together at the foot of the front steps, waiting for something to happen. In the evening gloom, it was easy enough for Knox and Gaille to slip past them and up the marble steps. The woman behind the information desk was remarkably square-looking, as though someone had thrown a rug over a washing machine. They asked her about Augustin. She directed them to ICU One, but warned that the police weren't allowing him any visitors other than his fiancee.