Читать книгу Dark Avenger - Alex Ryder, Alex Ryder - Страница 7

CARRIE stood on the makeshift wooden jetty and watched as Nikos expertly used the derrick to lift the last of the cargo from the hold and swing it ashore.

John Chambers, the man in charge of the archaeological team, checked the items against his list. ‘Everything seems to be there, Carrie. You just made it on time. We were getting worried. We’re down to our last gallon of paraffin and tin of beans.’ He took an envelope from the pocket of his bush shirt. ‘This is a list of the supplies we’ll be needing by the end of September. Just the usual stuff.’

She smiled brightly. ‘No problem, Mr Chambers. The Miranda has never let you down yet, has she?’

‘Who’s the new deckhand?’ asked John in a loud voice, nodding in Nikos’s direction.

‘Just a temporary replacement,’ she said in an equally loud voice. ‘The more temporary the better, as far as I’m concerned.’

John guffawed. ‘I suppose Jimmy is up to his usual tricks, eh, chasing the young dolly birds on Mykonos? By God, I wouldn’t mind being nineteen again myself.’

It hadn’t been the most tactful thing to say in Nikos’s hearing and from the corner of her eye she saw him stiffen. At least now that night had fallen he’d had the decency to put on his shirt again, she noted with relief. She stood idly chatting with John while he loaded the stores into the Land Rover then she waved goodbye as he drove off then stepped over the bulwark on to Miranda’s deck.

Nikos had finished securing the derrick and now he glanced at his watch and grunted, ‘We can be on Paraxis within an hour. Cast off the lines and I’ll start the main engine.’

She glared at him and said stiffly, ‘This is still my boat. I’m not taking orders from you. Tomorrow we’re heading south. Paraxis is in the other direction.’

‘I need to buy some clothes,’ he said sharply. ‘I’ve nothing but the things I’m wearing.’

‘That’s not my fault,’ she retorted. ‘You should have thought of that before you took it on yourself to—’ Her sentence ended in a squeal as he grabbed her and unceremoniously lifted her up and dumped her back on the jetty.

‘Have it your own way,’ he growled. ‘You can stay here tonight. I’ll be back to pick you up in the morning.’

Furiously she watched as he turned his back on her and ducked into the engine compartment. His head reappeared for a moment and he shouted, ‘You can spend the night with your archaeological friends. I’m sure they can find you a spare tent.’

If only she could, she thought bitterly. Anything would be better than having to spend the night anywhere near him but the Land Rover had gone and it would be a four-mile trek in the darkness to the excavation site. Anyway, why should she be the one to go?

Defiantly she jumped back on board and, quivering with rage, she waited to confront him. If only some fairy godmother would turn her into a man for five minutes. A great hulking brute of a man with no neck and tattooed knuckles. Two minutes would be enough. That would give her enough time to teach Nikos Spirakis a lesson he’d never forget. She’d…she’d…

The main diesel rumbled protestingly into life and Nikos emerged and grinned at her. ‘So you’ve changed your mind? Good. Now go and cast off the stern line.’

Her voice smouldered with a low, barely contained fury. ‘Let’s get one thing straight here and now, Mr Spirakis. No one, not even someone as high and mighty as you, will give me orders aboard my own boat. And I’d remind you of something else. The Miranda is not only my boat, it’s my home. If anyone spends the night ashore it’ll be you.’

He raised a darkly amused eyebrow. ‘Your comments have been noted. Now cast off the stern line.’

‘Cast it off yourself,’ she snapped. ‘I’m going below.’

In the privacy of her tiny, cramped cabin she sat on the edge of her bunk with her chin despondently in her hands and stated at the blank bulkhead. God, what a mess! How was it possible for her life to have been turned upside-down in so short a time? If it hadn’t been for that cretin up there tonight would have been no different from countless other nights. She’d have been making dinner while Jimmy pottered about on deck, checking and doing routine maintenance. They’d have their dinner on deck then she’d wash up. Later they’d have a game of cards and share a bottle of wine and reminisce about their father and the good times they’d had. Jimmy would usually turn in first. On a warm night like this he’d fetch his sleeping-bag from below and spread it on the forecastle. She’d sit outside the wheelhouse for a while gazing contentedly at the stars until drowsiness overcame her and she too would turn in.

It had been a healthy, happy and uncomplicated way of life. They’d known they’d never make a fortune but that didn’t matter. Some day Jimmy might get married—or she might meet someone and fall in love herself. Who could tell? But neither of them had worried about it. Like their late father they’d been content to leave their future in the hands of fate.

It had all turned sour now, though. Instead of being kind fate had turned out to be a mugger in a dark alley.

She still hadn’t really come to terms with the ultimatum she’d been given but one thing was certain—she couldn’t allow the Spirakis family to carry out their threat against her brother. It was too barabaric and horrendous to contemplate.

There was really no choice, she realised bitterly. She would have to give in to Nikos’s demand. It would mean humiliation. Utter degradation. But what was that compared to being crippled for life?

Becoming pregnant and having a child she didn’t want was a prospect that filled her with dismay, but how was she going to avoid it? And when she had this child, what then? She’d have to support it and look after it as best she could but how was she going to do that and continue with her carefree, nomadic way of life? The Miranda was no place to try and bring up an infant.

As for Jimmy, he’d have to support the girl and the child he’d so thoughtlessly fathered. His hands would be full and he’d have no time for her in spite of the fact that it was all his stupid fault.

As for Nikos Spirakis, he was nothing but a sadist. ‘An eye for an eye’, he’d said. But he was wrong. There was a big difference. Jimmy had presumably seduced the Spirakis girl—or for all anyone knew it might well have been the other way around—but he certainly hadn’t raped her. But that was exactly what Nikos intended doing to her. He might try to deny it and twist the words but the moral blackmail he was using was simply violence on a more refined level.

The more she thought about it, the darker and more insoluble her problems became and after half an hour she gave up in disgust and went up on deck to cool off.

Her abductor’s face was a mask of shadow and light as he glanced down at her from the dimly lit wheelhouse and she turned her back on him disdainfully and stared ahead. The starlight reflected from the still and silent sea and dead ahead she could see the brighter lights of Paraxis.

The Miranda seemed to be moving faster than usual and she scowled. That meant that the throttle was wide open, which meant more engine wear and higher fuel consumption, but of course he wouldn’t let a little thing like that bother him. Glancing aft, she noted the phosphorescent wake stretching backwards, true and straight, and she grudgingly had to admit that, apart from the engine, he certainly knew how to handle a boat—but considering that his family was big in the shipping business that was hardly surprising.

Soon she could hear the sounds of the island carrying faintly across the water—taxi horns and the steady thump from one of the discos. She had no time for the larger Greek islands during the tourist season. It seemed to her that the main seafront towns and villages tarted themselves up like goodtime girls out to make a fortune while the pickings were good. They made her feel sorry and ashamed for the inherently decent islanders.

However, that was their worry. She had enough of her own to think about.

Suddenly her heart was in her mouth as Nikos took the Miranda at full speed into the crowded harbour. He headed directly towards a vacant berth at the quayside, threw the engine into reverse at the last moment, spun the wheel and nestled the Miranda gently alongside. She let out her breath in a sigh of relief. Damn him! He’d just done that to frighten or impress her.

Standing resolutely with her arms folded, she left him to do the tying up. As soon as he was ashore she was going to go below again, have some supper then lock her cabin door and try to get some sleep.

Nikos had other ideas. Grabbing her by the waist, he practically lifted her off her feet as he pulled her on to the quay.

Pushing him away, she spat, ‘Let me go. I’m not going anywhere with you.’

The green eyes glittered dangerously for a moment then he relaxed and smiled coldly. ‘You’ve no option, Carrie. If I leave you alone you might decide to do something stupid like sailing off without me. Of course I’d catch up with you sooner or later but in the meantime I’m afraid that your unfortunate brother…’ He shrugged and left the sentence unfinished.

The anger in her eyes turned to bitter defeat and she muttered savagely, ‘All right! I give you my promise not to leave the harbour. Does that satisfy you?’

He contemplated her calmly for a moment then shook his head. ‘I don’t know yet whether you’re trustworthy or not. I’ll find out in time but until then I prefer to keep an eye on you.’

There had to be some sophisticatedly cutting reply to that but she couldn’t think of it. Finally her shoulders slumped in obvious surrender and he nodded in satisfaction. ‘That’s better. First I’m going to arrange for a change of clothes and other essentials. Then we’re going to enjoy a meal and a few drinks like any other normal and friendly couple. Now why don’t you cheer up and make the best of it?’

She looked at him with wrathful indignation and gritted, ‘I’ll make the best of it but don’t ever get the idea that I could conceivably enjoy your company.’

He tilted her chin upwards with his forefinger and grinned. ‘You can at least pretend, can’t you? After all, you’re going to have to do it sooner or later.’

The street along the seafront was a bedlam of noise with loud music blaring from speakers hung outside tavernas and nightclubs.

Ignoring the cheaper eating establishments, he led her to a quieter part of town and presently she found herself being ushered through the impressive foyer of a rather de luxe hotel and unerringly steered towards the room marked ‘gourmet restaurant’. She noted the white linen tablecloths and the gleaming silver.

They had barely entered when a large, rotund man with enormous whiskers issued from a sidedoor and greeted Nikos warmly. Like two long-lost brothers they spoke to each other in a torrent of Greek until Nikos paused and took the trouble to introduce her. ‘Stavros, this is Miss Stevens. She also is in the shipping business.’ He eyed her with cool amusement then added, ‘At the moment we’re discussing a merger.’

The sarcasm was meant for her and not the owner, who gave her a comical little bow. ‘It is my pleasure to meet you, Miss Stevens. Nikos and I have been friends for a long time.’

She smiled back politely. Any friend of Nikos Spirakis was no friend of hers but she wasn’t going to make a case out of it. The evening was going to be difficult enough as it was.

Stavros led them to a secluded table then gave a signal to a hovering waiter who came over smartly with a bottle of wine and two glasses.

Nikos examined the bottle and raised an eyebrow. ‘Cava Clauss! How did you manage to get hold of this?’

The owner beamed with pleasure at the reaction and he spread his hands. ‘With great difficulty, Nikos. I keep a special stock of it for friends such as yourself.’

Nikos handed it back to the waiter who obligingly filled two glasses. Carrie lifted hers reluctantly and took a sip. She usually prefered white to red but this was surprisingly good, dry and very full-bodied. She took another, larger sip, then, realising that the owner was watching her with anxiety, she laid down her glass and said, ‘I like it.’

His face split into another grin and he turned to Nikos. ‘Miss Stevens has excellent taste. Perhaps she would like to order now?’

Nikos handed her the menu but she ignored it. ‘I’d like souvlaki if you have it.’

‘And I’ll have the same,’ said Nikos. ‘But first I’d like a pen and some paper, Stavros.’

With a snap of his fingers Stavros sent the waiter scurrying off to fetch the requirements and when he’d returned Nikos scribbled down a page of instructions and handed them to Stavros. ‘Can you take care of all this for me, old friend?’

Stavros read the list then grinned. ‘No problem. Everything will be taken care of to your satisfaction.’

When he’d gone she looked across the table suspiciously. ‘What was all that about?’

‘A shopping list,’ he answered casually. ‘Now, sit back and relax and enjoy your wine.’

Relax? Now there was a laugh for you. She helped herself to another sip then took in her surroundings with grudging approval. On the few occasions when she and Jimmy found time to dine ashore it was usually in some cheap and cheerful taverna. This place looked as if they charged an arm and a leg—not that that would matter to a Spirakis. He probably had shares in the place.

At the moment he seemed content just to sit there, drinking his wine and watching her under those dark, brooding brows of his. She tried her best to ignore him and spent half the time staring over his head and the other half examining the pattern on the carpet.

When the meal arrived it at least gave her the chance to concentrate on something else. She shouldn’t have felt the least bit hungry. Stress and anger had being doing terrible things to her digestion but quite suddenly her appetite came back. Perhaps it was the wine or the delicious smell of the spit-roasted lamb and the well presented salad. Anyway…at least he was paying for it.

When they’d finished and the plates had been removed he refilled the wine glasses. She’d already had two with her meal and that was normally her limit but what the hell. Her situation as of now could hardly be described as normal. She’d never been drunk in her life but perhaps this was the time.

She was too preoccupied with her own thoughts to hear what he’d said at first and it was only the mention of the Miranda that caught her attention. ‘What about the Miranda?’ she asked sharply.

‘I was saying that in spite of her looks she’s a fine craft,’ he repeated patiently. ‘She’s not Greekbuilt. How did you come by her?’

She’d had no intention of indulging in any kind of conversation with him if she could help it but he’d hit right on her weak spot.

‘She was my father’s,’ she told him. ‘After he died Jimmy and I took her over. And you’re right. She’s not Greek. She was originally a seine netter built in Scotland to withstand the rigours of the North Sea. She can handle anything the Aegean throws at her.’

She saw the amused tilt of disbelief on his brows and she felt irritated. Well, if he intended staying with her for the next month there was a good chance they’d be caught at sea by the Meltemi, the vicious wind that struck suddenly from the north. Then with any luck he’d turn green and spend his time retching over the side. Or was that too much to hope for?

‘Tell me about your father. What kind of man was he?’

Damn him. That was another of her weak spots.

Somehow the evening wore on. Another bottle of wine had appeared on the table and already it was half-empty and she wondered how much of the stuff you had to drink before it had any effect on you.

Eyeing her inquisitor with sullen exasperation, she said with heavy sarcasm, ‘Why don’t you ask me what I had for breakfast this morning? You’ve asked just about everything else.’

‘Not quite,’ he said suavely. ‘Tell me about this ex-boyfriend of yours. Was he a good lover?’

She blinked at him, affronted at his sheer cheek. ‘That’s none of your damned business,’ she snapped angrily.

His voice growled across the table at her, low and threatening, ‘I’m making it my business. So tell me.’

Undaunted, she glared right back at him. ‘I won’t tell you. And there’s no way you can make me.’

He merely sighed and for a moment he sat running his finger around the rim of his glass while his green eyes studied her thoughtfully, then he said, ‘You still don’t seem to be aware of the position you’re in, Carrie, so I’ll make it clear to you once more. I don’t intend to spend the next month listening to your insults and looking at that scowling face. From now on you’ll do exactly as you’re told and you’ll at least make a pretence at enjoying my company.’

‘I’m not that good an actress,’ she retorted bitterly. ‘You’re asking the impossible.’

He sighed heavily again. ‘I see.’ Slowly he got to his feet and looked down at her coldly. ‘In that case I’ll leave you. I can catch the late-night ferry and attend to your brother personally first thing in the morning. He may require a few days’ hospitalisation after his “accident” but I’m sure he’ll be walking about without too much discomfort in a week or so.’

Her blue eyes widened in horror at the threat and she gasped, ‘For God’s sake! No! You wouldn’t… you couldn’t…’ Her voice trailed off and a voice in her head said, Oh, yes, he could. He’s a damned barbarian. He wouldn’t give it a second’s thought.

He towered over her, waiting.

‘P-please,’ she stammered. ‘Please sit down.’

‘Only if I have your promise to behave in a more civil manner from now on.’

This was unreal, she thought dizzily. Worse than the worst nightmare she could think of.

Lowering her eyes, she bit at her lip then muttered grimly, ‘You win. I…I promise.’

‘That’s not quite good enough, Carrie,’ he said with a shake of his head. ‘You’re supposed to smile up at me and say, “Yes, Nikos, I promise.” ‘

So not only did he like sticking the knife in but he enjoyed giving it a twist, she thought savagely. It looked as if she was dealing with a sadist here. She raised her eyes and almost choked over the words. ‘Yes, Nikos. I…I promise.’

‘Hmm.’ He regarded her doubtfully, a faintly sardonic grin curling on his lip. ‘I suppose that will have to do. It wasn’t much of a smile but with a bit of practice it’ll be better.’ He regained his seat and folded his arms. ‘Now tell me what I want to know. Was your ex-boyfriend a good lover?’

‘I don’t know.’ She saw the gleam of anger in his eyes and she went on hurriedly, ‘Look, he was the only man I’ve ever slept with so I wouldn’t know whether he was any good or not. I mean, I wasn’t keeping score or awarding points like the Eurovision Song Contest, was I?’

‘Well, did you enjoy having sex with him?’ he persisted.

She bridled. Perhaps he was one of those peculiar people who got their kicks from talking about intimate things like that. The retort that sprang to her lips died as she remembered her promise and his threat.

‘Not particularly,’ she said in quiet embarrassment.

‘Then he must have been a bad lover.’ He smiled at her with condescension. ‘It couldn’t have been your fault. Beneath your cold exterior there are raging fires of passion awaiting liberation. I felt the heat for myself this afternoon.’

Once again she flushed as she recalled the way her body had responded to his deliberate provocation. Even in bed Victor had never made her heart race out of control like that. Nikos went on with his relentless questioning, ‘Is that why you left him? Because he was…unsatisfactory?’

‘No,’ she replied bitterly. ‘It turned out that I was only his Saturday-night girl.’

He gave a puzzled frown. ‘Saturday-night girl?’

‘Yes. I found out that he had one for Monday night and another for Thursday.’

He nodded in understanding. ‘He was being unfaithful?’

‘You could put it like that,’ she said, chancing a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Reaching for the bottle, he refilled her glass. ‘And there have been no other men since then?’

She looked at the glass. ‘Are you trying to get me drunk?’

‘Answer my question,’ he snapped.

Simmering quietly, she replied with dignity. ‘No. There haven’t been any other men.’ She paused then added, ‘You know the old saying: once bitten, twice shy.’

The fingers of his right hand drummed a slow tattoo on the table while he thought her answer over. They were strong, very competent-looking fingers, she noted. Perfectly manicured, the halfmoons translucent in light contrast to his darker skin. Finally he gave a decisive nod. ‘I have the feeling that you’re telling the truth, Carrie. You strike me as being open and honest.’

He’d be giving her a gold star and telling her to go to the top of the class in a minute, she thought. ‘Look,’ she began with a forced politeness, ‘would you mind telling me why you’re asking all these questions? I don’t see that my previous life has anything to do with you. I mean.. .why should it make any difference to you what kind of sex-life I’ve had?’

‘It matters considerably, Carrie.’ His eyes measured her dispassionately. ‘I wish to hurt your brother, make him suffer the same disgrace he has brought down on the heads of my family. If you were a person of loose moral behaviour, as he seems to be, he might simply shrug off your pregnancy as being of little consequence. Certainly nothing to feel disgraced about.’

The sheer cold-bloodedness of his reasoning was almost unbelievable. Recovering her breath, she looked at him with barely disguised contempt. ‘I suppose it’s your only regret that I’m not a virgin? That would really have made your day, wouldn’t it?’

He gave a dry, philosophic shrug. ‘A man can’t have everything. However, I want you to know that I have nothing against you personally, Carrie. In fact, I think I’m beginning to like you. You’re extremely attractive and, as I pointed out before, my mission here will be a pleasure instead of mere duty.’ He spread his hands in a gesture of mock-appeal. ‘Believe me when I say that I sympathise with your position but it isn’t my fault that you’re unfortunate enough to have a brother who doesn’t share your high moral scruples.’

The rumours she’d heard about him were true, then. If this was the way he treated people whom he liked then God help his enemies.

A sudden, suspicious thought crossed her mind. At first she dismissed it as highly improbable then she decided that any chance was better than none at all. There could be no harm in calling his bluff, if that was all it was.

‘I want to talk to my brother,’ she said calmly.

He gave a dark frown of displeasure. ‘That isn’t possible.’

‘Why?’ she demanded. ‘You said that he is being held by your cousins at some estate. I presume they have telephones there?’

He nodded. ‘Of course. But talking to him will do neither of you any good. Besides, at the moment he’s in an agony of suspense wondering what my plans are for you. For the moment I’d rather keep it that way.’

Once more she wondered how anyone could be so studiedly callous and in a cold voice she said, ‘Well, it’s like this, Mr Spirakis. You may be convinced of my honesty but I’m not entirely convinced about yours.’

His mouth tightened into a savage line of anger then he growled at her, ‘You doubt the word of a Spirakis? You’re treading on dangerous ground, Miss Stevens. I’d advise you to watch your step.’

‘You doubted my word,’ she retorted, ‘then you subjected me to a humiliating cross-examination. All I’m asking you to do is allow me to speak to my brother. If you refuse then how do I know that you’re telling me the truth about him—or anything else, for that matter? For all I know this whole thing could be a hoax—an elaborate scheme to put me out of business.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ He sounded bored. ‘What makes you think I’d be remotely interested in an insignificant operation like yours?’

She ignored the disparaging comment and stood her ground. ‘Then let me talk to Jimmy. If you really do have him then I at least have to know that he…that he’s still in good health. Perhaps you’ve already taken your revenge on him and I’m just the sweet after the main course. All I’ve heard from you so far are accusations and threats. I want to hear the truth from his own lips.’

Again he regarded her in thoughtful silence then he shrugged. ‘Very well. I’ll let you talk to him briefly. If that’s the only way to make you come to terms with the reality of your situation then so be it.’ He signalled to the waiter.

They both sat in tense silence until the waiter returned with a phone and a long extension cord which he plugged into a socket on the nearest wall.

Lifting the handset from the cradle, Nikos pushed the numbers, waited a moment then said quietly, ‘Andros? Fetch the Stevens boy. His sister wants to talk to him.’

He passed the handset across the table and she snatched at it eagerly. The instrument crackled in her ear for a few moments then she heard the breathless voice of her brother. ‘Sis? Is that you?’

‘Yes, Jimmy.’ She paused, afraid to trust her voice, then she took a deep breath. ‘Jimmy…are you all right?’

He sounded angry. ‘Sure. I’m fine. But what about you? Is Helen’s brother with you?’

She closed her eyes in relief that up to now he was unharmed.

‘Sis? You still there?’

‘Yes, Jimmy. And yes—her brother is here.’

‘Listen, you tell him from me that if he lays one finger on you I’ll…I’ll—’

She cut him short. ‘Don’t worry about me. I can look after myself.’ She hoped her voice sounded convincing enough.

There was an awkward pause then he said quietly, ‘Look…I was going to tell you about Helen. You’ve got to believe that, Sis. As soon as I found out about her condition I was coming back to the Miranda to tell you but these goons just bundled me into the back of a car.’

Her heart felt heavy as lead. ‘Then it’s true about you and her? She’s really going to have your child?’

‘Yes, it’s true. I’m going to be a father.’ There was another embarrassed silence then he tried to make light of it. ‘I guess it isn’t the time to be passing around the cigars, though. Now let me talk to that brother of hers.’

A steel band seemed to be tightening around her chest and she handed the phone back to Nikos. ‘He…he wants to talk to you.’

Nikos held the phone for a moment between finger and thumb then he dropped it carelessly back into the cradle, cutting the connection.

‘You might at least have listened to what he was going to say,’ she flared.

‘Listen to excuses…pleas for mercy? It’s too late for that now.’ He signalled to the waiter, who came over and removed the phone.

She held her tongue as Stavros, the hotel owner, came over and grinned at Nikos. ‘The accommodation you asked for is ready and the clothes you ordered have arrived.’

Nikos gave a satisfied nod. ‘Good. And the other matter?’

‘It is being attended to. The men say it will take a few hours. It will be ready in time and you will have no cause for complaint. They are the best on the island.’

Most of the conversation had been above her head but one item had caught her attention by the throat. He’d ordered ‘accommodation’!

As soon as Stavros was out of earshot she hissed across the table, ‘I’m not staying here. I’m going back to the boat.’

‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible,’ he drawled. ‘But you needn’t worry. The rooms are separate.’

‘With a connecting door, I’ve no doubt,’ she ventured bitterly.

‘No.’ His teeth flashed again in that predatory smile. ‘I dare say that you’re now impatient to get the whole thing over with as quickly as possible but tonight wouldn’t be a good time to start. You’ve had a very trying day and you’re tired. I’d rather wait until you’re fully recovered from the shock. After all, I want you to enjoy the experience as much as I know I shall.’