Dennis Wheatley - Mayhem in Greece

That evening, suppressing only the episode with Stephanie at the pool, he had given them an account of all that had happened to him since he had started on his self-imposed mission. He then learned that Mahogany Brown had not taken all the credit, but had reported that they had been working together and had given him a share of it. Sir Finsterhorn had been told that by Luke Beecham, who in turn had had it from Mahogany Brown's Chief. Before they went up to bed, Robbie had begged his uncle to help him save Stephanie from the terrible situation in which she was placed, and the Ambassador had promised to do everything that lay within his power.

On the Monday, accompanied by the lawyer who acted for the British Embassy, Robbie went to the Ministry of Justice. They had a long interview with a high official who was in charge of the prosecution against the Czechs. The upshot of it was that, as it had been Barak who had brought the charge against Robbie of murdering Cepicka, and Barak was now dead, it was probable that the charge would be dropped; but, if the Czechs insisted on a trial, one would have to be held. However, in the circumstances, that was most unlikely and, should it happen, a plea of self-defence would certainly be accepted. Robbie anxiously asked about Stephanie's prospects; but the official would say no more than that she would be brought to trial with her compatriots, and it was not for him to forecast the sentence she would receive.

That evening Robbie dined with his good friend Luke, thanked him for taking the steps that had set Mahogany Brown on the warpath, and again recounted his adventures. But when it came to Stephanie's prospects, Luke proved far from hopeful. He had heard on the side that the Czech Travel Bureau had been raided and among the papers seized had been Stephanie's reports of Robbie's activities in Patras, Corinth and Pirgos. In the face of those and her last letter to her husband, Luke felt that any plea that Robbie might make for her would be disregarded, in the belief that he had become so enamoured of her as a mistress that he would go to any lengths to get her off; so, in spite of all he could say, she would be sent to prison.

On Tuesday Robbie could settle to nothing. All day his thoughts were never far from Stephanie, alternating between desperate depression at the thought of the fate that might be in store for her, and hope that his uncle might succeed in getting her released after an interview that he was to have with the Minister for Home Affairs the following morning.

And now it was just before lunch on Wednesday. Sir Finsterhorn had come in from his interview and was facing Robbie in his study. In reply to Robbie's almost breathless enquiry he replied:

'Well; I have good news for you. In the first place the Greek Government wish to give you a decoration—and a good one, too.'

'What!' Robbie's eyes opened wide. 'A decoration! For me!'

'Yes, my boy.' Sir Finsterhorn patted him on his good arm. 'A decoration for gallantry. From now on, whenever you have to attend a full-dress function, you'll be able to hold up your head with the best of them. Of course, I must get permission from our people for you to accept it, but there will be no trouble about that. Fd have recommended you for a British decoration myself, if I'd thought there was any chance of your getting it. But now that we live in the era of the Welfare State, decorations are more or less reserved for fellows who can boost our export market, do things for charity or have sat behind a desk for thirty years without blotting their copy books.'

'Thanks, Uncle,' Robbie said quickly. 'But what about Stephanie?'

'Good news there, too. They are fully convinced of her guilt, of course; but, as a gesture of goodwill to me—and to you— they've agreed not to prosecute. They will only inform her Legation that she is persona non grata and must be sent back to Czechoslovakia.'

'But . . . but,' Robbie stammered, 'that's worse ... worse than her being in prison here. Her own people know she double-crossed them. They'll send her to the uranium mines. She'll die a lingering death from radio-activity. It's condemning her for two

years to a living hell.'

♦ * * *

That afternoon, Robbie again took a taxi to the parking place below the Acropolis. Slowly, he climbed the steep slope to the Propylaea, mounted its great, broken steps and came out on to the lofty plateau. Now that it was May, it was baking hot up there. The sun blazed down relentlessly, making the stones hot to touch and dazzling to the eyes. Owing to the great heat, no conducted tours were scheduled to be taken round it in the early hours of the afternoon; so only a few perspiring tourists and people inured to tropical sunshine were strolling about the ruins.

Robbie made his way over to Athene's olive tree. Casting a quick look round, to make sure that he was not observed, he took a small medicine bottle from his pocket. It contained another ration of his uncle's port, to which he had helped himself after lunch was over. Pouring the wine as a libation at the foot of the tree, he bowed his head and said in his thoughts:

'Great Goddess, you told me that, for the sake of my country and yours, I must go on to the bitter end. Well, with Stephanie's help I've done that. But must the end be so bitter?'

A light breeze rustled the leaves of the little olive tree, and a golden voice replied: 'Strange mortal, who in this modern age still has faith in the great ones of Olympus. One by one the cruel gods who demanded human sacrifices have died. Now, those who have for so long demanded sacrifice of self, in a dreary life of humility, poverty, fasting, chastity and self-denial, are also dying. But we, who are no more than the elder brothers and sisters of men and women, created by the Maker of All Things with the same weaknesses and strengths, yet given greater powers: we, whose only wish is to see each human derive the maximum of joy from life, are the true Immortals. We shall live on for ever, and never lack the power to grant the prayers of those who believe in us.'

Then the great goddess Pallas Athene told Robbie Grenn

exactly what to do.

* ♦ * ♦

The following morning, Robbie secured a special permit to visit Stephanie in prison. The Deputy-Governor received him and handed him over to the head wardress, with instructions that he should be allowed to talk to the prisoner for half an hour, on the same footing as if he were her lawyer.

In consequence, he was taken to a waiting room in which there was no barrier between prisoner and visitor, but simply a wooden table and a few chairs. Stephanie was brought there and the wardress who escorted her took a chair in the corridor outside.

Stephanie's hand was still bandaged and her face was drawn; but she raised a faint smile as she entered the room, and said: Tt's nice of you to come, Robbie. I hadn't expected to see you again.'

He cleared his throat and asked: 'You know what they intend to do with you?'

She nodded. 'Yes. They told me this morning. I'm not to be charged with the others. I'm to be handed over to my Legation to be repatriated.'

'And we both know what that means.'

'Don't, Robbie, please. I ... I'd rather not talk about it.'

'But I must. I want to know if you think there is any chance of their letting you off.'

She shook her head. 'No. They'll add it to my other crimes that I was responsible for bringing about V&clav's death. For that, they would never forgive me. If only they'd kill me and have done. But they won't. They . . . they'll send me to the uranium mines. But please, please-'

Seeing her intense distress, Robbie cut her short and said: 'I've come here to suggest a way out for you.'

'There isn't one,' she said pessimistically. 'I know you'd help me if you could, Robbie. But there's nothing you can do.'