Dark Avenger Read online

  "That's something I can't understand either," she admitted.

  "But he has harboured it and we must do something to prevent his carrying out his threat. Lavinia's madly in love with Alastair.

  It would break her utterly were she to discover he'd actually killed a girl-"

  "Don't use that word, Julie! "

  "Didn't he kill her?" she inquired softly.

  "It was an accident."

  "Was it an accident that he ruined her first?"

  "For the lord's sake, Julie, let us talk rationally," snapped Edwin, glaring at his niece across the desk. "You're hurt by this, but it happened ten years ago and the man should, by all that's logical, have forgotten about it. He should have married and raised a family by now."

  "Well, he hasn't married and raised a family, because he wants to marry me -" She broke off as a thought struck her. "Uncle, do you think he had forgotten - until he saw that picture of me?"

  Edwin considered this.

  "You know, Julie, that's quite possible, and it would provide some feasible explanation for his behaviour."

  "Feasible explanation?"

  "Supposing the matter had faded from his mind - after all it was a crazy idea, conceived by a mere boy, and if he possessed an ounce of intelligence he would admit it as he grew older. Yes, let us presume he had allowed the matter to fade. Then somehow that magazine falls into his hands and he sees both your photograph and the announcement of the engagement of Alastair. He's a poor spongediver and here is the chance of extorting money from me...." Edwin tailed off because Julie was shaking her head.

  "I was with you at first, Uncle - agreeing with what you said, but we have to remember one thing: had he wanted money he would have passed that message on. But the message which

  was passed on was that as you had promised me to him when I was nineteen, I must now go to Kalymnos, otherwise he will carry out his threat and appear in church on the wedding day."

  Edwin heaved a deep sigh.

  "It doesn't make sense. I can't bring myself to believe that anyone would harbour a desire for revenge all these years."

  "Nor can I, and I'm sure there's something we don't understand.

  The only way is for me to go to Greece and sort it out with him."

  "No, Julie, I won't let you. Can't we get in touch with that gipsy person?"

  "She said I would not see her again until I wept to Kalymnos."

  "She was so sure you'd go?"

  "She was confident, yes." A small pause, but as Edwin did not speak Julie went on to ask baldly how much he was willing to pay.

  "A couple of hundred should suffice." Julie thought about this.

  "He might ask for more. I'd better take five hundred -"

  "You're not going," he broke in emphatically. "Why, child, I'd be out of my mind to allow you to go to Greece alone."

  "The woman stated that I must go alone."

  "We have the address. I shall write to the fellow and ask him how much he wants."

  "The woman said - most emphatically - there would be no communications whatsoever. I must arrive in Greece not less than a week before the wedding."

  "A week ..." Edwin looked at her. "That tells us something valuable," he added, digressing for a second. "It tells us that the fellow's still poor."

  "How have you reached that conclusion?" Julie herself did not doubt that the man was still poor. On a tiny island like Kalymnos there was no way in which a man of peasant stock could ever improve his situation.

  "He requires a week. Had he the money to fly here he'd have required no more than a couple of days."

  Julie nodded; this seemed feasible enough.

  "Do you think five hundred is sufficient for me to take with me?" she inquired calmly, and her uncle cast her an impatient glance.

  "I've just said you're not going, Julie."

  She met his eyes unflinchingly.

  "I am going, Uncle Edwin. He said I must, and right from the

  moment that gipsy passed on his message I knew I would have to do as the man asked. No, please don't argue - after all, I am my own mistress. I shall go to this island, speak to this Doneus Lucian, and offer him the money -"

  "Not five hundred," interrupted Edwin swiftly. "Two hundred's quite sufficient. Why, the man will probably be grateful for much less than that. Remember, he works for five months of the year only; the rest of the time he's idle, or perhaps growing a little food for himself in the garden of the shack or hovel in which he lives. He'll probably keep chickens - they're all like this on these small Greek islands - scraping out a subsistence living from the drought-ridden stony earth." He shook his head.

  "No, Julie, I'm not throwing money away. Two hundred will buy us the security we desire, I haven't a doubt of it." For a few minutes he argued with Julie about her going to Greece alone, but she remained adamant. She wasn't a child; she had travelled before, she reminded him, and at last he not only desisted from further argument, but ended by saying that he now felt much better for having reached some sort of decision.

  "If he accepts the two hundred," he ended, "we'll have come out of this pretty cheaply."

  "Cheaply!" Julie's tones were bitter and her heart was heavy.

  Was two hundred pounds the price her uncle put on a young girl's life?

  CHAPTER TWO

  FROM across the dark enveloping sea a spangle of lights pierced the gloom, faint atoms of luminescence at first which, as the ship moved with the swell of the waves towards the shore, increased in size and brilliance until they gave reality to the buildings from which they sprang. Their glow filtered to the waterfront and the indistinct blur of the harbour gradually took shape. Julie stood by the rail of the Knossos and peered into the darkness. Other islands had been passed and in fact some of them seemed very close. Julie remembered that each was in reality only one of the many summits of a vast volcanic massif lying beneath the smiling waters of the Aegean Sea.

  Having flown to Rhodes Julie had then boarded a ship bound for Kalymnos, where it was scheduled to dock at ten o'clock at night. Aware of the lateness of the hour at which she would arrive on the island, Julie had informed Doneus Lucian that she

  would call on him the following morning. No reply had been received, but Julie decided to go just the same, concluding that although the man could obviously speak some English, he was probably unable to write it.

  Practically all the passengers aboard the Knossos were Greeks, and disembarking at Kalymnos was an experience Julie would never forget. The Greeks, mostly men, pushed and shoved and scrambled to get ashore with the sort of haste that would be expected were the devil himself on their heels. Julie stepped back, extricating herself from the melee; the purser shrugged apologetically and took her suitcase from her hand.

  "In one moment, madam - if you will wait?"

  "I most certainly shall wait." Were all Greeks like this? she wondered when at last she was ashore and following the direction taken by the others. She looked at one or two of the men. Stiff and stocky, with swarthy skins, sun-scorched. On the quayside some wore thick jerseys, polo-necked and hand-knitted in thick black wool. Were any of these the brave hardy spongedivers? she wondered, already having envisaged the build and appearance of the man she was soon to meet. No doubt he could easily be dealt with ... but she would not insult him by giving him a miserly two hundred pounds. She would offer him more, and send it on to him from her own money.

  Suddenly she saw a man being helped along by two other men.

  He was dreadfully maimed, his legs twisted and his back bent, yet he appeared to be quite young - no more than twenty years of age. A spongediver, no doubt, and something twisted in Julie's tender heart.

  As her suitcase was small, and as the "front" appeared to be very close, Julie did not trouble to call a taxi - in fact, there didn't happen to be one anywhere in sight, for this was October and the season for tourists was past.

  She walked along, under an Eastern star-spangled sky, with the heaving sea to her right an
d lighted cafes to her left. Tables were set outside, under the trees, and numerous men sprawled by them, talking and drinking, or playing tavli together.

  There did not appear to be any sign of a first class hotel and at last Julie stopped at one of the tables and made an enquiry.

  "This is the best hotel." The dark-skinned youth spoke in broken English, pointing sideways and upwards. "You go there - in that doorway and up the steps."

  She looked distastefully at the place indicated. It appeared shabby and lifeless, with one miserable light above the narrow door which the man had indicated.

  "That is the best one? There's nothing else?" She remained by the table, deeply conscious of every activity having ceased, not only at the table by which she stood, but at several nearby tables too, and many dark faces were turned towards her. In fact, she was causing quite a sensation, she realized, and presumed it was because these people were so bored that the appearance of an "off-season" foreigner provided some small diversion for them.

  "There are other hotels - but they close by this time of the year."

  "Thank you." Julie managed a smile as she turned away towards the nearby door, but her spirits were in her feet. Never had she stayed at a place like this.

  The steps were narrow and dimly-lighted from a small electric bulb somewhere on a landing above. There was a smell of disuse about the place, and an almost frightening hush. Was everyone in bed?

  Silently from a door behind her a small, thick-set man appeared. His eyes took in every detail of her face and figure before resting a moment on the suitcase she carried.

  "Have you a room?" she inquired politely, and he immediately nodded.

  "You are alone?"

  "Yes, I'm alone." Instinctively she glanced at the door of the dimly-lit room into which he showed her, and felt relieved to see that a key was inserted in the lock. In one corner of the room was a double bed, in another a wash-hand basin supported by enormous cast-iron legs, ornate and painted bright green. A wardrobe that might have come out of the Ark stood against one wall, the curtains were sagging and so thin as to be almost transparent. Julie shivered, thinking of her luxurious bedroom at home, with its satin wall covering, its heavy carpet and priceless antique furniture. Had she been at home, a trim maid would have turned back the bed covers and laid out her nightdress ready for her to put on.

  "Is this the best you have?" Turning, she glanced into the man's dark face. He looked apologetically at her.

  "It is, madam ... I'm sorry."

  Julie smiled then. These people seemed so poor, and the man had obviously been most happy at the thought of having a customer at this time of the year.

  "It will do very well," she said, moving further into the room.

  "Have you a towel?"

  "I bring one. We did not expect a guest in October." He went out, returning a minute or two later with the towel. After placing it on the wooden towelrail he stood a moment, looking at her. "You come for holiday?" he inquired curiously.

  "I've come here to pay a visit." Abruptly she changed the subject. "My breakfast - can I have it about nine o'clock?"

  "Certainly, madam." A small hesitation; clearly the man was reluctant to leave without learning the reason for her visit.

  Perhaps he would be joining the men sitting at one of the tables down there in the street, and a piece of gossip would find many eager listeners. "In the morning - you wish for a taxi?"

  "You will call one for me?"

  "Of course. Where is it you wish to go?" Noticing her expression, which had suddenly become set, he added rather quickly, "I can tell Stamati where he must take you."

  "That's all right, I can tell him myself."

  The man took her rebuff in good part, smiling at her. He would know eventually, she was sure, but for the present he could be kept guessing.

  It was as she was washing that Julie heard a mosquito zoom past her ear and, grabbing the towel, she made a swipe at it.

  She missed and as she could not find it she got into bed. Zoom!

  She sat up. The mosquito was on the wall and she managed to kill it, but within seconds of her putting out the light the same thing happened again.

  Mosquitoes in October, but then it was still very warm in this part of the world. There it was, and she again managed a kill -

  and only then did she notice the many little daubs of dried blood all over the wallpaper. Obviously she wasn't the first guest who had been thus engaged.

  After killing a couple more Julie decided to use her nylon negligee as a protection, enveloping her head and shoulders in it. It made her hot and she hated it on her face, but, judging by the continued buzzing going on outside the improvised net she dared not discard it. And the next morning she actually discovered that one had bitten her through the cloth and she had a small swelling over one eye. Wretched things! How awful to live here, but when she mentioned her experience to the

  hotel proprietor he merely shrugged and said the mosquitoes didn't bite the natives!

  The taxi arrived just as she was finishing her breakfast, and Julie thought the driver looked oddly at her when she instructed him as to her destination, but as his face immediately took on a wooden expression she paid no more attention to the matter.

  After following the harbour road for a short distance the taxi began climbing, winding its way through treelined streets of neat cubic houses, their gardens overflowing with flowers - roses and marigolds and geraniums, and the flamboyant hibiscus with its great red flowers. Pink oleanders bloomed along the roadside and bordered a dry water-course meandering through the lush green foothills.

  Julie's overall impression as they went along, leaving the town of Kalymnos far behind, was one of whiteness, of orderliness and of activity. Three-wheeled vehicles the like of which she had never seen before shot about all over the place.

  They were really scooters, but with an extra wheel and a minute van on the back. What they carried Julie could not see, but their very presence gave evidence of trade, so obviously the island was not so poor as her uncle had assumed.

  An enormous statue of Christ on the Cross stood in the square of one village through which they passed; it reminded Julie of the devoutness of the Greeks, and set her wondering about the beliefs of a man with a name which, in ancient times, had meant Hades.

  Immaculate white houses straggled up the hillsides to the treeline, but they were few in number and in every case surrounded by well-tended gardens with usually a perivoli where figs and citrus fruits grew. And sometimes pomegranates were seen blazing in a hedgerow where wild roses having escaped man's effort at "improvement", gave forth their delicious perfume so generously that it floated in through the open windows of the car, mingling with the exhilarating smell of well-watered countryside, sharp and tangible. An arid island, her uncle had implied. True, way above the treeline the high rocky peaks, contorted by the heat which gave them birth, towered in awesome nakedness towards the sky, but the lower landscape was clothed in lush green vegetation, with enormous trees - elegant tapering cypresses, spruce and olive and palm - all contributing to an incredible variation of colour.

  Oranges and lemons, suspended like lanterns, contrasted

  vividly with the thick shiny leaves of the citrus trees on which they grew; wax-like spikes of asphodel shone along the roadside; colour flared from every garden and each smart white house had its patio and its wrought-iron railings and gate. From every aspect the views were breathtaking, contrast adding enormously to their charm - the wild volcanic mountains, still and immense; the lower slopes and coastal plain alive with a spectrum of colour born of their fertility; the aquamarine waters of the Aegean sweeping through a succession of unbelievable shades of blue until, on reaching the misted horizon, they tumbled over the rim of the earth.

  With the increasing distance from the harbour both traffic and people thinned out until the only sign of life was a goat-herd on the hillside, tending his flock, and a donkey ambling along the road, a man astride its back, a m
an who smiled and raised a hand in salute to the taxi-driver while his curious eyes sought for - and examined - the passenger in the back.

  Nothing was missed on an island like this. Very soon Stamati would be spreading the news that he had dropped his fare at the house of Mr. Doneus, and everyone would wonder why Mr. Doneus should be having an English visitor and many would be the roundabout methods adopted in order to find the answer to this question.

  They were driving along the coast road now, making for the north of the island, and with each passing moment Julie became more and more enchanted with the island of Kalymnos.

  "Are we nearly there?" she asked Stamati, and immediately regretted the question as Stamati turned towards her, driving as if he had eyes in the back of his head.

  "Yes, madam. Mr. Doneus's house is not very far now." His tone sounded strange, Julie thought, and she frowned slightly, recalling how, on his first learning of her destination, Stamati had acted a trifle strangely. It was almost as if he knew of her expected arrival in Kalymnos.

  Perhaps she imagined things, Julie told herself, leaning back once more and looking out of the window. What she saw brought a fleeting smile to her lips. Two small brown children - a girl and a boy - were cracking nuts on the pavement and as the cab drew abreast the boy grinned at her and held out an almond.

  "You want?" Stamati slowed down. "I get for you." He brought the taxi to a halt and slid from his seat.

  "Will they want some money?" Julie rather thought they might be making the gesture merely in expectancy of a tip, and she was opening her handbag when Stamati said, "No money! They give you for nothing! "

  She felt rebuked, unaware that quite often the Greeks spoke like this, and only slight indignation could sound like anger.

  "Thank you very much." Julie waved her thanks to the children after accepting the nuts, taken from their shells and ready for her to eat.

  "Nice?" Stamati's head came round and Julie popped a nut into her mouth.

  "Very." She nodded and smiled; Stamati let in the clutch and they were on their way again.