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.But there's something else you ought to do.Have you a notebook? Good.Note this down.' He gave Partridge's description of Anton Gavalas, spelt his name.'I should put out an all points for him.Partridge told me he saw him riding all over Exmoor.And there was one occasion when the Greek confronted him, accused Partridge of following him.''We'll check.' Farthing held a microphone from the radio car in his hand and studied the description he'd noted down.'I'll be at The Luttrell Arms in Dunster if the CID man put in charge of the case from Taunton wants to talk with me.''Roger.'Farthing was issuing an all points bulletin for Gavalas as Tweed and Paula walked back to the Mercedes.Nield strolled out of The Royal Oak towards the Cortina.Tweed drove back at speed to Dunster, overtaking the ambulance, his expression grim.Paula glanced at him, laid a gentle hand on his arm.He showed no emotion but she sensed he was concealing a feeling of deep shock.'You're upset, aren't you?''I worked with Sam at the Yard once.He was a good friend and my mentor.I learned a lot from him.Facts, he used to say, concentrate on facts.Then the solution will come sooner or later.He was generous with professional advice.Not always the case.Now I have to hunt down the man - or men - who killed Sam and Harry Masterson.Whatever it takes.'She was disturbed.She had never heard him express himself with such vehemence; almost as though he were prepared to throw away the rule book.'I have a feeling this is important.' She dangled her bracelet.'Harry wouldn't have sent this Greek key bracelet unless it pointed to something.I wish we knew what it means.'It began to rain.Tweed turned on the windscreen wipers.The moor was lost in a veil of fine drizzle, disappearing like a monster retreating to its lair, Paula thought.A beastly day - in every way.Wet, chilly, a nightmare day.Tweed made the remark as they reached Dunster.He turned into the High Street, the cobbled areas like sweating stones.No one about; people were huddled indoors.He swung the Mercedes into one of the parking spaces opposite the hotel.'You could be right,' he muttered.'Maybe the answer lies not here but in Greece.Let's hope Newman and Marler get lucky.'==========PART TWODevil's Valley==========1611 a.m.104°F.40°C.The heat scorched them like a burning glass.The cloudless sky above the ferry was a molten blue.Newman lifted his hand, wiped his forehead.He was dripping with sweat.His shirt was sodden.The car ferry bound for Siros edged away from its berth at Piraeus, turned slowly through ninety degrees, headed out into the gulf.Newman stood at the bow of the vessel, elevated above the car deck and below the bridge.The ferry to Siros was small compared with the giant five-deckers which plied between Piraeus and Crete and Rhodes.Below the bridge and stretching to the stern, trucks and cars were parked three abreast, filling the ferry which was open to the sky.Nick had had to back the Mercedes on to the ferry up the ramp so, like the other vehicles, he faced the ramp for ultimate disembarkation at Siros.Marler, wearing an open-necked shirt loose outside his khaki drill trousers, appeared alongside Newman and grinned.'Enjoying the weather, old chap? A super day for the trip.''If you say so, and not so much of the old chap.''Just an expression, old boy.Don't mind me.''I won't.'Marler, damn him, looked as cool as a cucumber.Resting his hands on the rail, Marler stared ahead at the millpond sea where the sun reflected like wavelets of mercury.Newman had earlier rested his own hands briefly on that rail.Very briefly.Like touching a red-hot iron.'What's the object of our trip to Siros?' Marler enquired.'That is, assuming I'm permitted to be put in the picture.''No need for sarcasm,' Newman growled.'Irony, not sarcasm.Big difference.Why the change of plan at a moment's notice? Sort of thing Tweed would do.We were going to check out Cape Sounion where Harry Masterson took his dive.''You have such a subtle turn of phrase, Marler.The enemy - whoever they may be - would expect us to follow Masterson's trail.Instead we're going to Siros-where over forty years ago a man called Gavalas was murdered during a commando raid.I want to see the place where it happened.''You think there's a link with Masterson's death?''Tweed said it was a possibility.And that commando raid came up in conversation when Harry visited that chap at the MOD.''And how on earth are we going to find the spot where Gavalas was killed on Siros?''Nick.He knows the island well, has friends there.But we'll have to watch ourselves every step of the way.''Which is why, I suppose, you had Nick kit us up?''That's why,' Newman agreed.He tilted his wide-brimmed straw hat to shield his eyes.Marler, who seemed impervious to the torrid heat, was hatless, his fair hair gleaming in the sunlight.'Watch it,' Newman warned, 'Nick's coming.''It's very hot,' Nick complained as he hauled himself up the companionway leading from the car deck and stood mopping his neck with a large handkerchief which was already limp with moisture.'You can get a drink inside.The only way to avoid dehydration.I came up for a breath of air.There isn't any.''Join us,' Newman suggested.'No.' Nick shook his head.'I'll get a bottle of orange juice, take it back.I'd better stay with the Merc.You know why.'Ten minutes later Newman stood alone on the bow deck, a fresh bottle of orange juice in his hand.Four more unopened bottles stood on a nearby seat.He'd have drunk gallons of the stuff by the time they reached Siros, two hours' sailing time away.You know why.He recalled Nick's words.It was Newman's idea that they travel to Siros armed.He had not forgotten the bullet fired at them at the port of Zea.And Siros, he suspected, was a sensitive area for someone.He felt confident they had slipped the leash by boarding the ferry at the last moment, but he was not a man to take unnecessary chances.Hence the guns and ammo Nick had obtained from God knew where.A sniperscope rifle for Marler, one of Europe's top marksmen; a Lee Enfield [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]