The Forty Column Castle

Ten


“Where to now?” I asked after we had dried off and dressed by the car. We were the last to leave the beach.

“Let’s walk over to the ruins and get a drink at the harbor. We still need to kill some time before we make our round of calls. We can blend into the tourist crowd. You hungry?”

I smiled. “Starved. You kidding? After all that exercise?”

He smiled back, and the glow in his eyes told me he had had as much fun as I had.

We could see the tops of the arches in the Forty Column Castle from where we stood. The walk was short. The evening, lovely. We could watch the sun set. I was putting a romantic spin on the whole affair, wasn’t I?

He held out his hand, and I took it, still glowing from the intimacy we had shared. Don’t overdo this I warned myself. Enjoy this for what it is. Let it go when it’s over.

We walked south along the goat path that wound through rocks and over the beach to the ruins of the Odeon, an amphitheater that dated back to the 2nd century AD. We stopped, so I could show Zach how the acoustics worked. I stood center stage. He sat halfway up the amphitheater. I talked in a normal voice and gave a blow by blow description of our lovemaking session in the car. He heard every word and clapped in appreciation. Those Romans knew how to build a theater.

We headed for Saranta Kolones, Greek for the Forty Column Castle, not one column of which was still standing. Only a few arches and the massive walls remained of the Byzantine fortress, destroyed by an earthquake in 1223. On our way we passed the tents of the archaeological dig at the ancient Roman villa where they had uncovered spectacular mosaics. The tents served to protect the excavation and the diggers. When I had helped, one of the archeologists had splashed water on the mosaics to show how the colors came alive. Photos in books did not do justice to the real mosaics.

The sun set, the breeze died. The light was clear and low horizon clouds made the western sky glow with gold and crimson. We walked in silence for most of the way, hand-in-hand when the path was wide enough.

A kaleidoscope of images tumbled through my mind -- my aunt gripping the bars in the jail cell, the interlude in the back seat of the car, the bottoms of the shoes lying in the garden at the safe house, Zach’s naked body standing in the waves of Lara Bay, the rifle crack of flying bullets, the message to kill the man who was with me. The images were at odds with the peacefulness of the scene through which we now strolled.

Where was my aunt? What was she doing and how would I ever help her? I hoped she was safe, but when my mind replayed the frightening images of the last two days, fear spiked through me again and scorched my nerves.

As we passed the castle I shivered, remembering the excavators’ stories of how they had found people buried in place as they fell inside the castle during the earthquake. They had lain as they had fallen all these years. Stories abounded in the local community of lost treasure yet to be found. As far as I knew it was all myth and rumor. That all was so very long ago and so very far away from my predicament. No one was hanging around the site. Work had stopped for the day. Not that I had entertained hope of finding the American couple around the dig.

“Have you ever eaten at Hondros?” Zach asked.

“Many times. Let’s go there. Good Cypriot food.”

“I don’t think we’ll be recognized but keep your hat on just in case. Besides it looks good on you.”

He had donned his Panama for the walk over and looked the tourist. The floral shirt put him over the top. The short gravel road we followed from the castle brought us to the main paved street out of lower Pafos. On the corner sat the Hondros restaurant. I was primed for a glass of wine and good food, especially Cyprus chips.

The waiter seated us, and we studied the menu. It was too early for Cypriot diners. A party of Brits sat at a table across the room enjoying cocktail hour. We sat facing the street, everything open air. Our drinks arrived, a Keo for Zach and a glass of red wine for me.

As I sipped the wine I engaged in some serious people watching. A scruffy looking guy in fatigue shorts and flip flops walked by, trailing a group of people that included three gray-haired ladies.

I grabbed Zach’s arm and in a low voice said, “There’s Lonnie and look who’s with him.”

“The widows.”

“I’m going to talk to them.” I got up to go but didn’t make it half-way out of my seat before Zach had his hand on my arm to restrain me.

“Wait. Let me go. They don’t know me, and they might have heard about you.”

He gave me a hard stare. “You wait here.” His look softened. “Please. Stay here until I get back, okay?”

I nodded and smiled and as soon as he left the restaurant, I looked around for a pay phone. The waiter said there was a pay phone on the corner half a block down. I told him we both would be back and took off down the street. First I dialed Yannis’s number.

“Ney, ney.”

Oh, thank you Sweet Jesus, it was Yannis.

“Yannis, it’s Claudie, we have sixty seconds, tell me what’s so urgent?

“Princess? Where are you? Are you okay? What is going on?”

“I’m fine. Please I only have sixty seconds, what’s so urgent? Have you heard from my aunt? Is she okay?”

“We have heard nothing from your aunt. The police, of course, are looking, but she seems to have vanished from the face of the Earth.”

“Then what was so urgent?”

“Zach Lamont is wanted by the FBI in the United States for smuggling antiquities and weapons. He is a felon and a criminal and has served time in jail. The Cypriot police are looking for him. Are you still with him?”


Holy Mother of all the Greek gods. “You can’t be serious.”

“Princess, I have never been more serious in my life. Where is he?”

“I was with him, but I’m not right this instant.” I knew I was stretching the truth, but I couldn’t tell Yannis. It could put him in danger. What if someone was monitoring the call? “He’s been protecting me, sort of.”

“Claudie, you must go to the police. Get away from him.”

Sixty seconds. I hung up and faded into the shadows by the building on the corner that housed a noisy music store. I flattened myself against the warm concrete of the building, hoping I might disappear. I needed to think.

Zach, a smuggler? How did he know about the safe house? And the NYPD badge? Of course, it had to be a forgery. If he circulated in the world of criminals, forging documents was probably an everyday necessity. What was Zach’s motivation in holding me captive? An easy piece? That was comforting. If he thought that I was tied up with my aunt, my value to him was a way to access what he wanted. He must really think I was a thief. Maybe that was the attraction. And the men following us? Zach must have something they wanted. A horrible been-had feeling crept through my gut. My skin felt like it was crawling with worms. Slippery, slimy, creepy worms.

I took stock. I had the clothes on my back and my purse. Zack had the keys to the car. I had to get a taxi and go to the police. But if I went to the police, they might throw me in jail, and I still wouldn’t know where my aunt was. If I went to Limasol which was over an hour away, maybe I could find my aunt’s boy friend. Maybe he knew where she was. But Zach had the address. That meant I’d have to call Yannis again. But not from here.

Taxi. I needed a taxi. I needed to get away from Zach. I didn’t want to think about what we had been doing back there in the car. Making whoopee with a criminal? I was slipping to a new low.

I peeked around the corner of the building, back toward the restaurant. No Zach or Lonnie or gray haired old ladies in sight. I crossed the street and headed toward the main boulevard that would take me to Limasol, scanning for a cab while I walked, trying not to hurry, trying not to look like a woman on the run. Surely, there would be a cab on the main drag. Another block and I was there, half way into the street, holding up my hand, waving the universal signal for a taxi. With the honking of the horns and the noise from the traffic I didn’t hear the footsteps until they were right beside me.

A big, strong muscular arm went around my shoulder and another arm joined mine waving for a taxi. I yelped and jumped straight up three feet.

“Where are we going, darlin’?”

I looked into Zach’s dark, unfathomable eyes.

“You weren’t going to leave without me, were you?” His smile had an edge to it and wasn’t sexy in the least.

“No, of course not.”

“Do we need a taxi? We have a car waiting for us back at the beach. And you haven’t had dinner yet, have you?”

His smiled got even tighter, definitely false around the edges. We stood in our ridiculous tourist get ups, squared off in mid-traffic, angry drivers honking and shaking fists at us. I was at a loss for words. How did he find me so fast? He pulled me out of harm’s way and back onto the sidewalk.

“We’re creating a scene. Would you like to tell me what you’re doing?”

Evening strollers passed by on both sides of us, some staring at the strange tourist couple. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him. “You didn’t mention you are wanted by the FBI.”

“Ah.”

I saw the light of understanding in his eyes.

“You talked to Yannis. Not the police, I hope.”

“Yannis. But I’m on my way to the police. I’m going to get a taxi and ride away, and I don’t ever want to see you again.”

“But what about the beach this morning and our play time in the back seat of the car? Doesn’t that mean anything?” He cupped my neck with his warm hand and smoothed his thumb across my cheek.

I slapped his hand away. “Stop it. You’re a criminal, a fake, you lied to me and I …” The tears started and that infuriated me more. “I hate you.”

Geez, that was real adult. Now we were starting to draw a crowd.

He grabbed my elbow and propelled me forward. “Walk with me. We’re making a scene. You’re upset. Try to calm down.”

I trotted away from him, and he hurried to catch up.

“Calm down? Me calm down? After your lies?”

I stopped and poked him in the chest with my finger. “My aunt could be dead by now. Yannis says she has disappeared off the face of the Earth. Because of you, I’ve lost two vital days trying to locate her. Two whole days.”

“Walk,” he said again, pulling me along, as a crowd started to form around us. “You haven’t lost two days because we’ve been looking for her. You’re being unreasonable.”

“Don’t let him get the best of you, honey,” shouted one tourist, shaking his fist.

“You’re creating a scene,” Zach said, “and if we are both wanted, that wouldn’t be such a good idea, would it?”

He steered me down a side street. We were heading back to the beach. By now it was dark. Maybe I could out run him on the beach and hide somewhere in the ruins. The sunset had dimmed and an evening star glowed on the west horizon. Around us the shop lights burned bright. Street lights flickered on. I didn’t know what chance I stood running on the beach in the dark, but it was worth a try. I had to get away from this maniac. Our fling was over.

I hurried ahead, but he was right behind me. We were on a rough side road that led to the ruins, a road used only by the archeologists and excavation workers that was more rock than road. As soon as we were out of the glare of the street lights and surrounded by darkness, he yanked on my arm forcing me to stop.

“I can’t let you go, my dearest Claudie.”

I refused to look at him, so he grabbed my chin hard and turned my face so I had no choice.

“You know too much. Besides, aren’t we one of a kind? Aren’t you in this with your aunt? It will be much easier on both of us if you tell me where she is.”

“Why? What could she have that you want?”

This was the part that baffled me.

“Your aunt’s the head of the smuggling operation on the island along with those three widow friends of hers. All she has to do is tell me where they stashed the antiquities that they stole. That’s all I want. I wouldn’t report her to the police now, would I, if I’m a thief myself?”

I thought that one over. But something he just said gave me pause. What stash of antiquities? And who did they steal this stash from?

“Let’s back up. You say there is a stash of antiquities involved, not just a few statues and potsherds?”

“Don’t play dumb, Claudie. You know about this.”

“Let’s pretend I don’t, just for the heck of it. You tell me what’s involved.”

He crossed his arms and stood studying me. A rainbow of emotion flickered over his face. Disbelief, suspicion, caution, calculation, doubt.

I knew what the problem was. If I wasn’t a thief, and he told me about the stash, I could do a number of things that might dig him in deeper if I ever got to the police. Like tell them about the stash he was after, what was in it if he would tell me, what the stakes were in the smuggling operation.

He came to a decision. “All right. Let’s pretend you don’t know the stakes in this game. Here it is. Berengaria’s jewels were found in the excavation of the Forty Column Castle.”


I looked at him and a smile spread across my face. “Are we talking gold jewelry set with precious stones worth maybe two to three million on the black market?”

His eyes lit up, and I could tell by the lively interest in those deep brown eyes that I was getting close.

“I’ve never seen them,” I said, “but I heard about them when I worked on the excavation.” I started laughing. “Give it up, Zach. It’s all rumor and legend. Those jewels don’t exist. There never was such a find at the Forty Column Castle. It’s just one of those funny stories that circulate around digs about buried lost treasure.” I smirked at him. “You’ve been had, and, you know what? I’m glad.”

He smirked back.

“No, darlin’, I’ve seen the jewels. I had them in these hands.” He held up his big hands. “They were stolen from me. Why do you think Max and Irene are dead?”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Why do you think the guys in the Maruti are following me?”

My eyes widened. “Why?”

“They want the jewels, and they think I have them.”

“Do you have them?” I asked. This was getting ridiculously confusing. The whole thing had always been confusing, hadn’t it?

“Of course I don’t. But your aunt might know where they are and that’s why we need to find her.”

Something then occurred to me. Was it possible that during her vacation this time in Cyprus my clueless aunt had unwittingly gotten these jewels? But how? Now I was thinking like the jewels were real. Zach said he had them in his hands, but he had a way of saying things that weren’t always true.

“Isn’t that a coincidence? We both want to find my aunt, but for different reasons.”

Zach looked uncomfortable. He wouldn’t look me in the eye but seemed to be studying something in the darkness.

I found a big rock to sit down on and let out a soul draining sigh. “Unbelievable.” Then I remembered that I never had had dinner, and my stomach was growling with no hope of respite any time soon.

I was at a loss. I was no good at being a detective. The Great Above only knew what was happening to my mutual fund although I had great confidence in Lena’s ability to carry on without me, maybe permanently but I hoped not. My aunt could be dead if those desperados thought she had the mythical jewels. The police were looking for me and Zach, and he was a bona fide criminal. But the sex was great.

I realized I was studying Zach’s muscular, hairy calves. “You have nice legs,” I said. I couldn’t think of anything else to say. “And I need a bracer. A raft of Cyprus brandy sours might do it.”

“Thanks but I need to lie low, and you will have to lie low with me. How about we get the car, drive over to Limasol, and look up Mr. Bellomo.”

I squinted up at him, not finished with the inquisition yet. “Did you find Lonnie and the widows and what did they say?”

Zach stared off into the darkness of the night. I looked over my shoulder to see what could be so interesting. Only blackness as far as I could see. He took off the baseball cap, smoothed back his hair, put the cap carefully back on. The breeze was picking up and ruffled the lapels of his ridiculous shirt.

“You didn’t talk to Lonnie?”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, I did.”

“And?”

“It seems the widows have gone on to Jerusalem to complete their vacation. Those weren’t our girls with his touring party today. They’ve left your aunt twisting in the wind, I do believe.”

“That’s fine, just fine.” I stood, dusting off my Capri pants. I was beginning to like them and thought about picking up another pair. My bikini bottoms were in a wedgie under the Capris, and I was sticky and sandy from the beach. I wanted a nice hot shower and a comfortable bed. By myself.

We started trudging in the direction of the car. I stumbled and had to resort to holding on to Zach’s arm. The stars and a bright half-moon provided some illumination. Those lovely ruins that looked so romantic under a setting sun now looked spooky.

I was jumpy, and my skin was crawling. As a kid I always hid my head under the pillow when ghost stories started flying around Girl Scout campfires, and I hated horror films. Stephen King? Never. I didn’t like being terrified. So what was I now?

We passed the castle then the mosaics. Ghosts might be hanging around an old ruined castle. I clutched Zach’s arm tighter. We passed the Odeon with the fine acoustics. The breeze blowing through the ancient rocks whistled eerily, making me more jittery. The place had to be haunted with all those people dying over the centuries. I hoped I didn’t see any ghosts. They were in the same class as terrorists. It would be too much for my heart.

We neared the beach where we swam earlier, picked our way down the old goat path, Zach helping me over a rock or two, when he stopped so suddenly I stumbled right into him. He steadied me but continued to look over my head in the direction of the parking lot.

“I don’t see the car.”

I squinted, trying to make out the form of the Honda SUV with the memorable back seat. Nothing. We studied the area.

“Maybe we’re at the wrong place. It has to be there. Did you lock it?”

“Yep, but that wouldn’t stop a tow truck from hauling it away.”

I took a few steps forward. It had to be there. Auto theft was unheard of on Cyprus.

Zach held my shoulder. “Better not go any closer. They’re probably watching the area. They might already see us.”

“They?”

“The police. They probably tracked us through the car rental agency.”

“But why would they take the car? Wouldn’t they just put a watch on it until we returned?”

“Maybe. Or our friends in the Maruti might have taken it. They’re good at stealing cars. Might have wanted my gear.” He looked sad at the thought. “I guess we’ll have to spend the night in the ruins.”

I gave him a you-got-to-be-kidding look. “Not this lady. I want a shower and a bed, bare minimum. Why don’t we go to Yannis’s? His house isn’t far.”

“So he can call the police to pick us up?”

I shrugged happily. “Worse could happen. Your friends could shoot you.”

He frowned at me like he didn’t like my use of language. “I have a better idea. We’ll walk to the main drag and catch that taxi you were trying to get earlier to Limasol. Excellent choice, now that we have no car.”

I didn’t think my legs would carry me back out to the street. These flip-flops were not made for rough terrain, and I could feel a new blister forming every minute. But I had to find my aunt.

“Do you have the address of Mr. Bellomo?”

“Right here in my pocket.” He held up the corner of the napkin from this morning’s breakfast. “Let’s get a taxi to Limasol.”